#yes my situationship has let me down once again

[ldyvdr]

tags are so real but as a bay area girly this is the worlds least romantic place.

idk if someone asked for this before but moodboard of like stanford era tashi (no injury) but like.. gf coded if that makes sense

ohhh to meet tashi when you’re both at stanford and fall in love with each other 🤧

[yoonia]

blooming wallflowers (m) | knj

⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again

⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader  ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation.  ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading!  ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints

⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission  ⟶ Read on AO3 ⟶ Short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie

On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together. 

But today is not one of those days. 

“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands. 

“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.” 

Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started. 

“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.  

“I am not!” 

“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.” 

Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!” 

Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry. 

Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it. 

Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter. 

You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute. 

Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now. 

Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something. 

She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon. 

“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them. 

You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries. 

For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things. 

“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—” 

Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn. 

“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry. 

Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to. 

Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment. 

“Hi there, do you need any help?” 

“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.” 

“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.” 

Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.” 

All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked. 

Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.” 

“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?” 

Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl. 

“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer. 

“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight. 

As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.” 

A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.” 

“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.” 

Find the beauty in the chaos. 

You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time. 

Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane. 

You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead. 

Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe. 

Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened. 

While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend. 

And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says. 

It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him. 

“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.” 

And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other. 

“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother. 

“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.” 

Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.” 

Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding. 

Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.” 

“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.” 

You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour. 

Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than. 

The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.” 

Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.” 

Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”

The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.” 

“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both. 

Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.” 

Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head. 

Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real? 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders. 

No, none of it involves you. 

Maybe. 

You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.” 

You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave. 

Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.” 

You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car. 

Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye. 

“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter. 

“Yes, um. You too.” 

Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls. 

“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.

“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.

“I’ll see you girls around!” 

Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving. 

Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon. 

Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all. 

There is truly no beauty in this chaos. 

Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.

It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse. 

But, of course, it eventually did. 

Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.

Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now. 

But must it happen when you are inside it?

The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself. 

You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm. 

At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself. 

It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together. 

You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt. 

“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation. 

You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space. 

“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little. 

“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator. 

It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away. 

Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in. 

Is the building really burning? 

Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?

What happens if help doesn’t come? 

What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope. 

Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—

A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way. 

"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”

"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."

You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.” 

Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall. 

Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.  

"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."

Safe. 

The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside. 

More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.

One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?” 

Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn. 

"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."

You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.

"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."

Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold. 

With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak. 

“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met. 

“I told you we’d meet again soon.”  

“Is this really necessary?” 

You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem. 

Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere. 

Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office. 

“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.” 

“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?” 

The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still. 

Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by. 

“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.” 

The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—” 

His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.

Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.” 

Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.” 

He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.” 

You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.” 

“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.” 

At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.” 

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?” 

You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.” 

With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side. 

“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?” 

You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”

“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.” 

You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.” 

“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.” 

As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next. 

“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest. 

“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.” 

You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing. 

“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.  

“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”  

You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.” 

You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again. 

And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself. 

“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.” 

Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency. 

Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye. 

Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.” 

Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.” 

It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city. 

The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender. 

“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders. 

Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.” 

“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh. 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.” 

“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.” 

Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down. 

Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.  

Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive. 

He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more. 

He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled. 

He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago. 

It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away. 

Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—

He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so. 

“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.” 

Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.” 

Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.” 

Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.” 

“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink. 

Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild. 

“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?” 

“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.” 

As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time. 

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink. 

“Sure. Anything.” 

“Do you believe in fate?” 

Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?” 

Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home. 

“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.” 

“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks. 

“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts, 

“To friendship.” 

Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?” 

“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.” 

Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?” 

“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home. 

“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.” 

Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.” 

Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.  

The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage. 

Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel.  It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it. 

“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side. 

“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter. 

You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at. 

You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.” 

Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.  

“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.” 

Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence. 

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows. 

You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself. 

As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”

Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.” 

“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over. 

“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”

Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips. 

“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”

“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?” 

“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”

Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.” 

 “Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this. 

You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender. 

“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going. 

The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone. 

Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing. 

You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it. 

Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years. 

As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all. 

Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—

Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name. 

“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach. 

“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?” 

“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.” 

Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them. 

“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon. 

“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.” 

You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.” 

Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?” 

“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?” 

You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes. 

Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink. 

It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night. 

Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night. 

Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.” 

“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?” 

You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once. 

“I think I’m going to stay.” 

Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.” 

You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame. 

“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.  

“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?” 

The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”

“Surprise me.” 

Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.” 

“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?” 

Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”

You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree. 

“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing. 

“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”

He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”

You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”

He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him. 

The look which shows a different kind of want.

And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more. 

It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right? 

Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it. 

But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance. 

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to. 

“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse. 

“Your place, or mine?”

A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer. 

You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?” 

Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his. 

“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him. 

“No, they’re at my parents.” 

A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?” 

You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.” 

Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this. 

In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come. 

He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless. 

“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh. 

Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home. 

In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips. 

He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer. 

“Of course.” 

“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you. 

“Since the fire alert?” 

“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.” 

Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls. 

No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates. 

“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.” 

Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?” 

With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—” 

You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?” 

Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—” 

Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.” 

You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you. 

As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it. 

Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life. 

“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.” 

Namjoon laughs. “What—?” 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss. 

“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—” 

It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once. 

“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home. 

As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see. 

Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air. 

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home. 

Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.  

Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you. 

He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss. 

For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss

Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue. 

He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours. 

The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his. 

Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.  

Tonight is going to be a good night.

As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door. 

It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer. 

You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot? 

Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way. 

Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does. 

As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from. 

It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions. 

While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste. 

You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards. 

Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.

Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night. 

He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”

Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms. 

A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles. 

You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt. 

His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso. 

It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you. 

You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more. 

Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp. 

“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him. 

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”  

He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time. 

You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look. 

“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?��� he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you. 

Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly. 

The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand. 

Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath. 

“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.” 

Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.” 

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach. 

“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control. 

He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead. 

With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs. 

Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.” 

He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin. 

Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings. 

Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself. 

Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?” 

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.” 

At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders. 

Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more. 

Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him. 

Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss. 

His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making. 

In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom. 

His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment. 

Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth. 

Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release. 

“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm. 

Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release. 

“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.” 

“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles. 

“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him. 

Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.” 

Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you. 

It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you. 

As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further. 

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness. 

Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs. 

“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?” 

Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body. 

Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure. 

With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them. 

Dear God, help me. 

You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind. 

Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place. 

“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.  

“Everything okay?” 

You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.” 

Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.” 

Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.” 

His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.  

“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.” 

You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom. 

Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed. 

Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees. 

Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you. 

Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow. 

An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own. 

Desperation. 

Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel. 

Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done. 

Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name. 

His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you. 

Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs. 

You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds. 

His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure. 

With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core. 

With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other. 

It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body. 

Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high. 

Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.” 

His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry. 

You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss. 

Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth. 

This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm. 

With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. 

Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance. 

“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.” 

He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed. 

The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again. 

You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze. 

He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath. 

“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.” 

You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit. 

Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over. 

“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.

His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late. 

The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.

“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.   

“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away. 

His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?” 

“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.” 

The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?” 

He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position. 

Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time. 

You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough. 

As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you. 

His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core. 

Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly. 

You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips. 

A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent. 

“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size. 

Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts. 

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free. 

Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now. 

These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.” 

Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers. 

With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it. 

Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin. 

Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns. 

“You’ve already came too many times, so—” 

Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.” 

Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod. 

Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.

“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow. 

Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other. 

Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy. 

“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still. 

Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you. 

“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core. 

“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.” 

With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop. 

“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body. 

It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies. 

It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking. 

“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat. 

You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste. 

He’s close. 

“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.

“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build. 

His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge. 

A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm. 

Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 

The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt. 

Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent. 

“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder. 

“Hmm…yes, it was…” 

A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say. 

Incredible. Astounding. 

“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 

You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him. 

Stay the night. 

The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon. 

“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes. 

“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?” 

“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?” 

Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more. 

You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin. 

You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time. 

Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.” 

Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.” 

You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?” 

His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines.  Update | you can read more in the short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[zweiginator]

always think about inexperienced reader not realizing patrick’s falling in love with her. they are hooking up and he is always with her and breaks it off with everyone else and does subtle things to show his loyalty to her without actually saying it. when her friends ask her about it she’s like patrick???? in love with me???? no way??? this is what he does with everyone??? he dosnt know how to communicate and she dosnt pick up the signs

yes <33 it fucking scares him how little interest he has in other girls. and then he thinks about it more and it's not even a little. it's none. all he cares about is you. all he thinks about is you too.

patrick is infamous for having at least five or six situationships at a time--if you could even call them that. he is good at shutting his feelings off. hooking up with girls and not caring if anything happens after that. in fact, he prefers that nothing happens. but girls, their feelings get hurt and they want more. they want dates, a text, calls after class.

and then patrick meets up with you. a pretty, smart girl from his class. he loves how in your own world you are. the first day of class you sat there, listening to music and doodling in your notebook as you waited for class to start. you softly hummed the tune of your music, probably because you thought you were the only one in the lecture hall.

but there patrick was, and he noticed you and didn't stop noticing you. and then he started sitting right next to you. didn't even leave a seat in between. got you to share your earbuds with him and you even let him play some of his music sometimes.

but you'd always just--leave. you never asked for patrick's number, but one day he asked for yours and you looked surprised. you gave it to him.

he texted you and you kept texting because he kept answering you faster and faster. and then he started to call you and you'd answer.

your friends started asking you who you were always on the phone with.

"patrick. a guy in one of my classes."

"is it patrick zweig?" your friend looked flabbergasted.

"yeah, why?"

"he's known for being quite the--slut."

you told her that you didn't believe that. you'd never even kissed him yet.

but then your friends told you the stories. none of them had hooked up with him, but it seemed like everyone was one or two degrees away from a girl who had. and every story had the same ending--and then he never spoke to her again.

after hearing this, you separate yourself. you still call and text but you tell yourself it isn't a big deal. you can just have fun and call it quits. except you've barely lost your virginity. you're not equipped for this.

patrick begs you to come out with him one night. you do your makeup and don't wear your glasses for once and you wear a nice top.

you don't even make it to the club; patrick tackles you into his backseat and one thing leads to another and you're scratching your nails down his back and thinking--fuck. this is how they get so attached.

at this point patrick has stopped talking to every other girl. mostly without even realizing it. he just--forgot about them.

and you start distancing yourself. one day you don't even sit by patrick. it almost makes him tear up.

he texts you that night and asks

Are you mad at me?

No, why?

You didn't sit by me in class

Oh, I'm sorry

Can i come over?

you say yes.

and your roommates yell that patrick is here and he brought you a present. a bouquet of roses with baby's breath. you blush and thank him. he eats you out on your baby pink sheets and begs you to cum for him. he wants you to just fucking let go. but it's hard for you to trust him.

weeks of him inviting you out, meeting his friends. him asking to meet yours. more flowers, he buys your favorite snacks. he drives you to class and holds your hand on the way to tennis practice.

your friends ask if you're dating him.

"no, no. we aren't. he's not into that."

they look at you, confused.

"did he say that to you?"

"no, but it's implied. with his past."

one of them sits down across from you. "it's pretty clear he loves you. this isn't apart of a scheme--like im telling you--"

your other friend interjects. "it's always him hitting a girl up at a party or something and then they fuck maybe once or twice and then he just stops talking to them. never flowers and hand holding."

"oh--i mean. we'll see."

and patrick thinks you're his girlfriend. that's what he tells art, anyway. and art congratulates him. asks patrick when he asked you to be official.

"what do you mean?"

"patrick you have to fucking ask her."

[coffeetheactualjellii]

"Diluc x Male Bodyguard Reader"

Content: Smut, aftercare, and enemies to eventual lovers. 

Smut Content: Anal, Oral (reader receiving), Use of Aloe Vera as Lube. 

A/n: Hello Guys! It's finally time that i uploaded this lol, but the thing i promoted this as is true it is co-written by me and my ex-girlfriend/situationship lol. Btw this might be a oneshot or a three part series depending on how well this does and if she still wants to co-write with me.

A/N update: [[ Me and my ex are no longer in talking terms as of now, because she got a new partner and its weird that Me (her ex) is asking her to write smut with me lol. I might write the following ones by myself. ]]

{{A/N Update}} Hi this is several months after the update up above and me and ny ex are in talking terms again and am here to day that part 2 will come eventually once the both of us are not that busy.

!!MDN!!

Word count: 2.2k 

____________________________________

Kingdoms Fall

The three Kingdoms in Monstatd live in harmony in the Continent of Teyvat.

You work for the Ragvindr family as the personal guard of their son Diluc. The Reign-ing Monarch of the kingdom of Krasi as one of their soldiers. 

The family has always been very traditional, royalty must marry royalty, Future king gets the throne regardless of the eldest daughter or not. Y’know, the basics. Now as a soldier you’re never close to any of the royals, the closest you’ve gotten to any of them is a simple “yes, sir,” or “Yes, ma’am.” Now you were assigned to guard their oldest son, Diluc Ragvindr. Keep in mind, this man hates you, he doesn’t like the thought of having a personal guard let alone a guard at all. Your duty as his personal guard is to follow and take note of his every single move, where he goes, what he does, even what he says.

Today the prince is training with some of the guards. You watch closely as he takes down the soldiers one by one slightly impressed by his skills. He takes the soldiers down one by one, leaving bruises and even some dislocated limbs on a few of the soldiers.

You see Diluc, a tall young man with crimson hair and autumn eyes. He’s a strong young man and it shows through his body shape and tight leather clothes. Diluc turns to face you, pointing his index finger directly at you. “You’re next.” He says with heavy breath and a raspy baritone voice as if he’s talking to a rival, a nemesis, an enemy.

As you stepped out onto the battlefield you and Diluc began to circle around each other, threatening each other death stares, gradually walking around each other, round, and round, and round you go. 

When the call was made Diluc ran at you giving you a good hit in the chest. You returned the gesture by kicking him in the leg sending him down on one knee. This battle went back and forth, over, and over, and over again. One minute you would have the upperhand, the next he would have the upper hand. About what felt like hours (which was actually just 15 minutes) you won the battle pinning Diluc to the ground with your leg against his back holding his hands bound behind his back.

“Okay! I yield! I yield! You win!” He yells from underneath you with heavy breath and an annoyed tone.

You stood up walking away from the man and standing with the rest of the soldiers. Diluc is surprised by you being able to defeat him, you could clearly tell that he’s pissed about it and that thought brings you joy.

An hour later; The prince is currently taking a nice bath as he washes off the residue from training, you are standing outside the curtain, listening in on him washing, scrubbing, wiping, whatever a prince does in a shower.

You continue to listen in on him scrubbing away until it stops…

Nothing…

Absolute silence as you wait for the prince to say something, you begin to get worried. Even if it’s the prince you couldn’t help but take a peek just to make sure that the prince is okay, but then you see him, naked, and standing there… staring.

“Ah, so the personal guard has interests?~” He says in a teasing manner as you quickly close the curtain, a crimson hue appears on your face as he walks towards you, he opens the curtain, widely  to show the prince standing there… Naked

“My apologies prince, you had me worried for a second there.” You try to explain but it seems that Diluc doesn’t believe you, you can hear him chuckle a little bit with the same teasing tone.

“Are you sure, cause… your cheeks sure do say otherwise.” He says in a teasing manner, suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer and through the curtain into the bathroom as you feel another hand on your face forcing you to gently look behind to, seeing Diluc with wet hair forces more blush into your cheeks basically turning you into a tomato of sorts.

You notice a sly smirk on his face as he pulls you closer, even through the thick leather you’re wearing you can feel his wet skin against you. As you stare deeply into his eyes you notice something there, not the usual spark of hate you had been used to, not the hint of boredom he usually had when you two were alone. It’s something new, something you thought you would never see, not when he’s looking at you anyways, the longer you stared, the more you noticed. It was, Lust?  

Yes, it is, lust in the eyes of a prince? That couldn’t be, he hates you, despises you, how could a prince like Diluc have lust for a soldier? It’s against the royal code, against all rules, against the whole royal family line… But it’s there, and you know it.

As Diluc begins to lead you backwards still holding you by the waist, without warning he turns your face back kissing you passionately. You had no time to react, not time to stop him, but then you noticed it… *Are you enjoying this? No, no, you can’t, this is against all moral code, against what being a soldier is about*. Half way through contemplating your life choices you feel Diluc slip his tongue into your mouth tasting yours, you couldn’t help but let out a low groan at the taste and the feeling.

Diluc pulls you back by the waist slowly bringing you closer to him as you feel his naked, et chest press against your back. His every touch on you sends a chill down your spine. Without warning he turns your head back to face him as he kisses you passionately before trailing down from your lips to your neck and so on to your collarbone. You can feel his lips on your skin as he begins to leave hickeys every here and there.

As Diluc breaks the kiss looking at you with a chuckle, you can see the need in his eyes, the want he has. “I see you enjoyed that.~” He says with another tease before kissing you, slipping his tongue in your mouth, tasting every inch of your mouth earning another low groan from you.

Half way through the kiss you feel something running up your thigh, something warm, something soft. The kiss is interrupted by a sharp breath in as you feel something on your crotch, holding it, rubbing it through your pants as you moan deeply into Diluc’s mouth. Diluc breaks the kiss letting out a low chuckle as he looks at you deeply in the eyes. As the feeling of his hand continues to massage your crotch rubbing up and down forcing a few low moans out of your mouth.

“I see you like it.” Diluc whispers into your ear in a low seductive tone as he continues to rub against your crotch.

Out of nowhere you feel his hand slip into your pants slowly pulling them down as you watch with heavy breath, the red returns to your cheeks as you feel his hand make their way to your skin. You can feel Diluc’s breath against your ear, your heart beating faster with each stroke of his hand.

“Ah!~♡♡” You let out a sudden moan as you notice his hand wrap around your dick moving up and down slowly.

You can still feel his breath against your ear as he lets out a low chuckle, then moving his hand slightly faster earning more and more moans from you. Half way through the ‘session’ he pulls your face to look at him as he kisses you passionately still rubbing your crotch and making your knees shaky. Your moans muffled into his mouth as hand continues to move faster and faster on your cock. Soon you eventually came all over the floor and his hand as you pulled away from the kiss throwing your head back onto his shoulder letting out a final goran. Diluc looks down at his hand covered in hot cum and sweat before he looks back up at you with a low chuckle.

“You took that so well.” He whispers into your ear leaving a slight kiss, you begin to take this chance to catch your breath and your heart.

You are then forced to turn over facing him as he pulls you closer for a kiss teasing your dick in the process. You begin to feel him removing your shirt now undoing it button by button and peeling it off, pulling one arm out of each sleeve at a time eventually completely taking your shirt off. Diluc then begins to kiss your neck and leaves a few love bites going down to your shoulder, getting elicit whimpers from your mouth, trying so hard not to moan loudly.

Diluc begins to lead you out of the bathroom he drags you to the bed pushing you down and laying you out now completely undressed, as he trails his kisses back upwards meeting your lips.

As Diluc continues to kiss you passionately he brings you legs up still rubbing lightly against your dick, halfway through this process you notice another feeling, despite him rubbing against you in such a way bringing you close to ecstasy. You notice his hands travel towards your ass until he circles it with his thumb “ahh look at your pretty little ass” he says You get a hard shock on your ass as you realise he just slapped your ass leaving a red hand mark on it. “♡A-ahh♡♡!!~” A loud moan escapes your lips as you feel the sharp feeling of pain mixed with pleasure. “hmm i didn't know that my little knight was a slut.” Diluc whispers into your ear as he gives you another hard slap on the ass, probably now leaving a bruise.

Diluc walks to his Vanity and gets a jar of Aloe vera (that he uses for his hair Normally) he walks back to the bed putting the aloe vera in his night stand. His dick was 5 inches, he started to rub his cock and now it's rising  it's about 6 inches fully hard. 

Diluc leaned down to rub your dick with one of his hands and his other and started to circle around your small virgin hole “♡A-ah♡♡!~” You let out a whimper as you feel his fingers enter your hole, stretching it out just a bit. After he takes out his finger and puts some Aloe vera and uses it as a Lube, he continues to push his fingers in and out as you moan. Feeling his fingers begin to go deeper into you, reaching as far as his finger can go.Then he adds a Second You can feel his fingers pushing in and pulling out causing you to bend forward arching your back allowing Diluc more access to your asshole. 

He adds a Third finger and he slides his fingers up and down Over, and over, and over again pushing into your asshole and pulling out forcing moans out of you as you are forced to cover your mouth in order to stay quiet.

You let out a low groan at the feeling of Diluc removing his fingers from your ass. You then notice that his dick is hard and it’s obvious. Suddenly you feel a sharp pain as Diluc slips his dick inside you stretching your tiny hole.

You can hear a few low groans from him as he lets you adjust to his size for a couple of seconds. Soon he begins to thrust into you slowly, he gradually fastens his pace, he begins to build up his speed and over and over earning a few moans along the way. As he continues to thrust into you, you begin to moan louder and louder with every thrust eventually forcing the prince to cover your mouth.

“Shh. We don’t want anyone to find out now do we.” Diluc whispers into your ear as he continues to thrust into you faster, and faster, stretching out your hole to its limits as he lets out a few low groans. A few tears fall down your cheeks, as he continues to thrust into you faster and faster eliciting multiple gasps and whines out of you. High pitch squeals and heavy breaths escape your mouth at the feeling of his massive cock inside you.You then feel something warm and slimy enter your hole as Diluc cums into you leaving his cum and some of your blood all over your now stretched hole. As he begins to catch his own breath, he lets out a satisfied grunt as he falls beside you lying on the bed heaving and satisfied before reaching over to you for a warm kiss as he pulls you closer 

. ”Hmm, is my little knight satisfied?” Diluc said pulling out of your ass, your legs were kinda sore so you stayed lying down ;Diluc went back to the bathroom. When he came out he has a  towel wrapped around his waist to cover his complexion and a damp towel that was put into some warm water to clean you up. 

[beefrobeefcal]

Pointing Fingers feat. Ezra & f!reader

Summary: Will has an opinion and you have a need for comfort. Part 4 of There are Other Fish in the Sea

Pairing: Frankie, Ezra & Mouse | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 2,964

Content Warnings: verbal fight, words said in anger, digital penetration (f receiving), mentions of Watership Down (childhood trauma)

Author's Notes: Strides are being made. Will is a big floppy donkey dink.

Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @noxturnalpascal for brainstorming this with me, and to @bitchesuntitled and @mothandpidgeon for their eyes and love.

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Dating Ezra was something else. Since that first night in the apartment, you’d both agreed to go slow and get to know each other further. He’d admitted to you that he, too, was nervous, given he hadn’t been in a solid, actual relationship in a while, spending the last decade in and out of ‘dalliances of convenience’.

“Situationships?”, you asked, trying to suppress your grin.

“Situa- Little Bird!”, he exclaimed, faux-chiding you as his eyes danced with a laugh. “How on earth do you know such a bastardization of the English language?”

Throwing your hands up in surrender, you laugh. “That’s what they call it!”

“Oh yes, they!”, he mock-scolded you. He stands up at the table in the coffee shop and leans over.  “They! The ones who hold the power to command society in their hands!”

At that moment, you didn’t care that other patrons in the coffee shop were looking at you. The squealing giggle you let out spurned Ezra on and he gave you a gleeful, mischievous grin.

Standing up straight, he raised his arms as if he were giving a Shakespearean soliloquy, and declared,  “They! The ones who decide on all of humanity’s terrible statistics and give us their opinions on our horrible habits!”

Dating Ezra was something else, and you were loving every minute.

***** 

You arrived home one evening after a date, and upon walking in the door, Will was sitting in the living room. He stood up and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You’d avoided him since that lunch you had at Denny’s. 

“Hello.”

Will crossed his arms across his chest and gave you a parentally-critical look. You fought the beg-for-forgiveness feeling that he elicited in you, dropped your purse and jacket on the bench by the door, and mirrored his stance, crossing your own arms. 

“Hi.”

Benny let out an irritated sigh, getting up from the couch. He turns to Will and points. “I’ll leave you to it, but if I hear so much as one unhappy sound coming from her, I’ll break your nose. Again.”

Benny went into the kitchen to give the two of you privacy, and you stood awkwardly squared off with Will.

After a tense few seconds, Will cleared his throat.

“Ben says you’re seeing someone.”

You nodded, looking down at your anxious, tapping foot, then back up. “Yeah. Yes. I am, yes.”

He hums in response, nodding his head once. You noted his jaw had tightened slightly. You didn’t feel intimidated anymore and your patience was running thin. How dare he show up unannounced and try to throw his weight around. You didn’t owe him shit. 

“And you’re happy w–”

“What do you want, Will?”

Your interjection earned you Will’s raised brow and cold stare. When you didn’t back down, he dropped his arms and stepped towards you.

“I want to make sure you’re okay–”

“Bullshit.”, you snapped. “You came here because Frankie came whining to you about me telling–”

His eyes widened under furrowed brows as his head tilted. Will raised his finger to his mouth in a shushing-motion. “Mouse - don’t. I am just checking in.”

No. He was not allowed to come in and tell you to be quiet in your own home. “Oh come on! This is not ‘checking in’! You come here to interrogate me because-”

“Mouse–”

“--you think I am doing everything wrong by trying to–to move on and have a life that you don’t approve–” “Mouse–”

“-- of and who the fuck do you think you are, Will? My dad? You aren’t! You wanted me to stay with a guy who cheated on me and drank himself into sleeping with Santi’s sloppy fucking seconds and– “

“Mouse, I–”

“He wasn’t good for me anymore!”

Will walked up to you and held your shoulders. His eyes looked over your face sadly. This did nothing to soothe your temper.

“Mouse, honey–” Will’s voice was softer now and his thumbs rubbed your shoulders as he tried to get you to calm down. “He hurt me, Will, and you wanted me to go back to him!”, you snarled, shoving his arms off you and stepping back.

Will looked down, as if he were trying to collect himself and let out a sigh. When he raised his head again, his icy blue eyes were staring daggers at you. 

“You’re so fucking stubborn!”, he yelled. 

“Oh, I’m stubborn? You fucking come here to pick a fight with me, your own cousin, over a relationship that ended last year! You’re the fucking stubborn one!”

“Big fucking deal, Mouse! He fucked up and he apologized! You didn’t even give Frankie a chance! He loves you and you’re killing him!”

You felt your face grow hot and you clenched your fists. “What the fuck did you say?”

Will took two strides towards you, his hand jutting out and gripping your shoulder. His eyes bore into yours and he spoke in a low and terrifying voice. “You owe Frankie better. You are better than this. You can’t turn your back on your family- ”

Benny came sprinting into the room and pulled Will back from you. “You’re done!”

Will turned, shoving Benny off him and turned back to you, pointing aggressively. “I hope you know what a fucking joke you are, Mouse!”, he yelled as Benny grabbed him from behind, hauling him to the door. “You are a fucking piece of shit for doing this to him! You’re dead to me!”

The disgust and burning rage he’d left you with was threatening to pull you apart. You needed a release - a knife to the cord trap that had you tethered. You needed Ezra.

As soon as Benny had him out of the apartment, you grabbed your purse and jacket, and took off out the door. Hearing Benny loudly ripping into Will as he dragged him down the stairs, you went the opposite way to the building’s emergency exit and out into the cool night air.

****

Ezra’s door opened to your hasty banging, and his face grew concerned when he saw you.

“Little B–”

His words were stopped when your mouth landed on his, your hands gripping and pulling him into a feverish kiss. The force that you threw yourself on him sent the both of you stumbling back into his apartment. He sensed the desperation in you, and when you pushed to deepen the kiss, he yielded. It wasn’t until his own need and fervor matched yours that he moved up off the console table you had him pinned against, his hands furiously working to rid you of your jacket.

You parted, both panting through reddened mouths. Chest heaving, Ezra knew what you wanted and, as much as he wanted to launch himself at you and give you what you were demanding, he couldn’t ignore the shards of pain in your gaze.

He held his hand up, gently pulsing it towards you as a signal to slow down. “As much as I am sorely tempted to fuck you senseless, Little Bird… I must ask what is happening?”

You felt the heat creep up in your face and you realized what you had done. Your hands dropped to your sides, fingers fidgeting in and out of fists, and you looked up, blinking, to stop the tears.

Ezra lowered his hand and stepped towards you, eyes sympathetic, and he clicked his tongue and pulled you into a hug.

*****

“Remind me again why your cousin is so invested in getting you and-and that man back together?”, he asked softly.

You sat tucked into Ezra’s side with his arm around you securely. You sighed, eyes fixed on the glow of the TV.

“Will was the only dad-archetype I ever had. What he said was gold and, even though he was wary of me and Frankie dating at first, I think he liked keeping it, you know, all in the family…”

“He knew things were bad with us, but he… he told me to tough through it because he knew what Frankie had seen when he was deployed and I needed to be his-his anchor… or whatever.”

Ezra hummed in response, nodding as his thumb gently rubbed circles on your arm.

“I don’t know why really… I just know that based on tonight, he’s made it clear what I am to him.”

“Words spoken in anger are rarely honest. We spew all sorts of nonsense when we hurt with the intention of hurting others, Little Bird.”, he murmured as he pressed a kiss into your hair, then laid his cheek on your head and pulled you in tighter.

His words reverberated in your skull. Was Will hurting? You’d never stopped to think about how badly your and Frankie’s break up had hurt everyone. Sure, you knew they were affected, but hurt? 

You silently mused for a moment before asking, “How’d you get so smart?”

Ezra chuckled softly. “Experience, mostly. I spent my youth hurting people, Little Bird. Using my words to hurl daggers at anyone who I saw fit. I drove away a lot of good until I allowed myself to admit that I was hurting.”

You sat back and looked at him. He finally turned and you saw the weariness of guilt on his face for just a moment before he smiled softly. 

“I say this because you are hurting, Little Bird, and as much as you want to lash out and seek comfort in carnal things, you need to let those wings heal first.”

His hand came up and gently held your face. “And heal you will, Little Bird.”

*****

Sleeping in the same bed as Ezra had excited you. At least until he fell asleep and you laid in the dark in a strange bed, staring up at the ceiling. His soft breaths accented by the occasional light snore were an upgrade to the sound of the pipes rattling in your apartment with Benny, but it wasn’t enough to calm your mind. 

You quietly slipped out of bed and padded softly into the living room. The dim light from the streetlamp outside lit the room enough that you could make your way to the couch. Turning on the table lamp, you grabbed the book on the side table, looking at the cover: Watership Down. You hadn’t read this since your elementary school days and your interest was piqued. You flipped it open and on the first page there was a scrawled message:

Ezra,

Happy 10th birthday! May all your days be spent hopping in a field carefree.

Love, Mum

October 30th, 1990

You smiled. You assumed based on this that his mother had never read or knew the plot of this book and just saw the illustrated rabbits on the cover. Then again, it had been so long since you read it…

*****

Ezra found you on the couch, sipping a glass of water, his old copy of Watership Down on the couch next to you. He kissed you softly from behind the couch, then leaned his weight on the back of it on his elbows. His fingers gently slipped through your hair. 

“I awoke and found myself bereft of you. And yet here you are, seeking comfort with Hazel and his warren.”, he muttered into your hair with a kiss, feigning irritation with a small grin.

“You’re mom gave you this.”, you stated, holding the book up.

He nodded. “That she did.”

“Did she know what this book was about?”

Ezra looked down and smiled to himself. “I believe she did.”

You stared at Ezra, a little confused.

He sighed and turned his head down, eyes on the couch. “My mother - above everything - believes that life’s best teacher is failure. And failure only happens with risk. Risk starts with asking questions, and questions are prompted by a need for knowledge… her choices of books for me were part of that.”

“Smart woman.”

Ezra chuckled and stood up, stretching. He let out a groan as his sleepy joints popped and cracked. Looking at him, you couldn’t help but admire his form, backlit by the window behind him. He caught you ogling him and his smile seemed to rival the warm light silhouetting him. 

“You’re gonna read for me.”

He sauntered around the couch and sat heavily beside you. 

“Am I now?”, you smiled back.

“Yes, you are, Little Bird.”, he breathed as he leaned in and kissed your neck. His hand slipped across your waist and he pulled you closer to him.

His voice was low and gravelly.  “Go on, now. Read.”

You sighed and opened the book, trying to at least make your voice as appealing and melodic as his, but knowing it was a futile effort. 

Chorus: Why do you cry out thus, unless at some vision of horror?

Cassandra: The house reeks of death and is dripping blood…

“You skip that part.”, he huskily grunted into your neck. 

“The primroses were over. Toward the edge of the wood, where the ground became open and sloped down to an old fence and a brambly ditch beyond, only a few fading patches of pale yellow still showed among the–”

Ezra’s mouth nipped, sucked and kissed at your neck a little more fervently and the large hand that held you close slipped down between your crossed legs, palming your mound, causing you to pause.

“Keep. Reading.”

You’d lost your place as his middle finger pushed his boxers into your slit. Ezra smiled against your neck.

“So easily distracted…”, he cooed with a grin. 

He pulled his hand away and pulled the book from your hands, tossing it to the side. He then maneuvered you onto your back with him wedged on his side between you and the back of the couch. Your arm closest to him was under your head, allowing his head to rest on your upper arm.

As his fingers trained down your body, he kissed you. It was just as fervent and demanding as his mouth’s assault on your neck moments ago. His hand reached the waistband of the boxers and gently pushed underneath. A soft moan passed from your mouth to his as his fingers, no longer burdened by fabric, gently touched and pet your folds. 

“You tell me… Little Bird, you tell me that you want this… that you want me…”

“I want this- you. Fuck yes. I… I-oh fuck, Ezra!”

 His long, thick finger circled and pressed down on your clit, pulling slick up from your hole.

“So very special, Little Bird… so responsive.”, he grunted again, nudging his nose against your jaw to gain access to your neck. 

You could feel his erection pressing into your thigh as he adjusted, dropping a leg over yours to pull your thighs apart a little further. Your hand darted down to his cock, assuming he would want it, but he pulled his head back and shook it subtly. 

“No, sweet girl. I want to watch you fall apart unburdened by my needs.”

He danced a finger around your hole and watched with heavy lids as your lips parted, soft, panting sounds escaping. “Keep singing for me, Little Bird.”

Your hand then moved on top of his, holding his wrist as he began to prod his finger in and out of you. Moving from his wrist slowly, your hand covered what it could of his.

You hadn’t been touched like this in… ever. This was sensual and didn’t feel rushed or forced. You almost allowed another moment to compare Ezra to Frankie, but the way he pushed in a second finger blanked your mind. Your body responded by arching your back slightly and the low whine that peeled out of your throat had Ezra’s cock seem to harden further against your thigh.

“That’s it,  let me in…”

Ezra pulled his hand back and adjusted himself beside you to have more leverage. He pulled down the boxers, and you lifted your hips to allow him to remove them completely. He hovered over you, knelt between your legs, holding his body up on the armrest above your head, and leaned down to kiss you again. 

His fingers found your sex again and pushed two fingers into you, finding a rhythm. Your hands gripped his impossibly broad shoulders and you panted and moaned into his mouth. He sat back, eyes trained on his fingers disappearing over and over in you and he licked his parted lips.

“Please… sweet girl, let me… fuck!- let me see you cum.” 

His pleading voice and the way his eyes watched you was adding to the tightening coil. His thumb found your clit again and lightly rubbed small circles. 

Your body tensed and Ezra’s brows furrowed; he let out a low groan as your core fluttered and squeezed his fingers. 

“Please… please, Birdie… lemme see…”

He’d lost the ability to loquaciously vocalize his every thought and was reduced to under enunciating his words as he watched you fall apart.

You cried out, eyes clenched and your hands gripping each of his wrists. He panted along with you, murmuring praises.

“That’s it… there it is… my sweet Birdie…”

You came down and he pulled his fingers from you, wiping them on the discarded boxers, and he laid down on the couch again, pulling your back to his front.

You laid together for a moment, breathing in tandem. Ezra kissed your shoulder softly.

“Thank you.”, you murmured.

You could feel his smile as he pressed another kiss. “I should be the one thanking you. I was the blessed party that got to watch you succumb.” 

You let out a laugh, a real, full, genuine laugh, and Ezra joined in. You felt a peace in your heart that was slowly flooding the rest of you. 

It didn’t matter if this wasn’t going to last - in this moment, you felt free.

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[puck-luck]

all roads | mattias samuelsson

warnings: use of Y/N, miserable situationship, terrible cycles being repeated, more angst and thought daughter than smut and thot daughter (my b), spit, unprotected p in v, gaslighting, slight choking, fingering, oral fem!receiving, hickeys, mentions of drunk mattias, heavy on the EVIL mattias on this one… your honor i need him pairing: mattias samuelsson x fem!reader summary: fem!reader finds herself going through the motions of a confusing situationship with mattias, eventually attempting to break free of the cycle. wc: 4861

title and content based off this song

Can I come over? the text reads.

You stare at the message, thinking about the possibilities for a moment. You toy with it for a second like a proud cat who finally caught her nemesis of a mouse, letting it go just to step on its tail and capture it again. The possibility that you’re playing with is, of course, that you’ll tell Mattias ‘No.’

As much as saying no would bring you power, it’ll never work. Mattias will come over anyway. He’s probably already on the way, knowing that you’ll say yes because you always say yes to him. You always say yes and you always regret it the morning after.

You say yes. Mattias comes over. He pretends to watch the show that you’d thrown on while eating dinner, then he makes his move and you fuck. He comes, you come, he leaves. You have to change your sheets at 2am because they’re covered in sweat, cum, and spit. You forgot to lay down a towel, which is what you promised yourself you would do last time. It’s 3am by the time you go to bed and Mattias, once again, forgot to text you that he got home safe.

The cycle repeats.

Your friends have been here since the beginning of this relationship– relationship, as if you can even call it that…– and they’re getting tired of it. You can’t count the times they’ve said, “Y/N, he’s not good for you” or “Y/N, you deserve better than him.” From them, the sentiment comes so often that the truth of it has worn off. You’ve taken to responding with a groaned “I know” or an unsubstantiated “he’s been better lately!” or even a vague lie about how Mattias told you that he wants this to be more.

You’ve been able to believe your own lies, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions, until you couldn’t anymore. Just last week, after Mattias came to visit you over your fall break from grad school and you hooked up in the backseat of his car after dinner with your parents, your mom spoke up. 

“It really seems like you like him, Y/N,” she said while drying the last of the dishes. 

You were sat at the kitchen counter, fiddling with the tab of the seltzer you’ve been nursing since dessert. “Yeah, I like him, Mom.”

“Have you been seeing him long?”

“We met last year. We started hanging out in the spring.”

Your mother nodded slowly. 

“What?” You asked. 

“One of your friends talked to me at the football game a few weeks ago.”

Oh, God. “Which friend? What did she say?”

Your mother waved you off. “It doesn’t matter. She mentioned something about how you’ve changed since meeting the boy you’re dating, and now that I’ve met him, I have to say that I agree.”

It was a gut punch. You scoffed. “I can’t believe you’ve been talking about me behind my back.”

“Honey, we were barely talking about it. She just said she was worried that you’re caught up in something that won’t benefit you.”

“Well, Mom, you’ve only met him once,” you replied coldly. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know you,” your mother had said to your response. “I don’t like seeing you jump on your phone whenever you get a text.”

Mattias only sends you Snapchat messages, but that’s neither here nor there. Your mother wouldn’t understand, even if you tried to justify it.

“You just don’t seem the same, sweetheart,” she continued. “You seem quieter. I wasn’t sure what it was, but now that I know you started seeing him in the spring…” She shrugs. “It’s starting to make sense.”

You stormed out in a huff after that, venting in long texts to Mattias over Snapchat and barely receiving any sympathy. In fact, he was slightly more defensive than you: ‘I don’t think you’ve changed,’ ‘Sometimes I feel like your friends hate me just to hate me and it’s weird that they’re getting your mom involved,’ and the most telling, ‘I knew I shouldn’t have come to dinner.’ At the time, the messages seemed normal.

When you go back to your town, the place where you’ve spent the past few years with your friends and your independence and with Mattias, he invites you over to his house. You go, walking the distance between your place and his because you thought the fresh air would help clear your hear. Today, you’re a bit more tentative about letting anything happen.

“Don’t let their words get to you, babe,” Mattias murmurs, kissing the skin behind the shell of your ear. “You know what we have.”

“I know, but it’s different coming from my mom,” you complain, shrugging him off.

Mattias only doubles down on his kissing and his touching. “Let me make it up to you. Gonna give you a great night so that you forget all about that bad one.”

And he does. Despite all of his “noncommittal behavior”– your best friend’s exact words, when it comes to the things Mattias does– he is very committed to making you moan out his name. He fucks you bare, well into the night. You actually knock the sheets off the bed with all of your wiggling and repositioning, going from missionary to cowgirl within mere minutes because Mattias doesn’t like missionary, then to doggy to broken eagle to a weird position where Mattias has you on your side and your ankle rests on his shoulder. You’re perpendicular from him, staring towards the mirror in the corner of his room, and you come with Mattias’s hand around your neck. He kisses you after, just once.

Then– and get a load of this– you ask him to take you home and he says no. He says he has an early morning, with practice and all. He has to be at the rink practically before the sun rises and he doesn’t want to wake you when he gets up. It’s considerate enough, but when you sarcastically say “I guess I’ll just walk home in the dark, then,” Mattias replies, “Text me when you get home so I know you got back safe.”

For the first time since this started, you think to yourself: What if you just walked me home? Then you’d be absolutely sure that I got home safe…

In the weeks since, your mother’s words have struck you. They’ve given you pause. They’ve thrown you for a loop– or one of the many other synonyms that you could use for your new perspective. If the people around you are saying Mattias has changed you, maybe they’re right. Your mother met him once and thought that she should say something. That has to mean something.

You’ve noticed the pattern: that Mattias rarely ever texts you first, and when he does, he wants to see you. What started as sweet, cute meet ups last spring for coffee or a movie or dinner have devolved into hurried hookups in your bed, rarely ever Mattias’s. He never sleeps over and he always makes an excuse when you try to sleep at his place. When he turns you down, it’s because he has film to watch, or practice to attend, or plans with his friends. When you turn him down in order to study or do homework, he persuades you that he can relieve your stress with school or that you’d have more fun in his company.

You’ve been a negligent friend and an even worse person because of Mattias. Yet– you just keep going back.

Maybe it’s because of the potential he has. You know he can be affectionate and kind and perfect. You feel it in the reverent touches to your skin when he undresses you. You see it in his eyes when he stares up at you, perched on his lap and grinding against him. You hear it when he calls you ‘babe’ and tosses a wink at you when he’s too far away to swat at your ass. He lets you hang out with his friends– only with his friends, he won’t hang out with yours– and claims you by holding you on his thigh and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. He shares drinks with you, he always comes when you call, and he always is by your side when you’re stressed or upset. Even when you say you want to be alone, Mattias knows that you don’t really. He knows that you want someone there, seeing through all your feeble lies, and he is.

Your friends say that it’s making you codependent on him. You think that he’s really just trying to help you.

Tomato, tomato.

So, you stop talking about him. You start seeing him in secret. Everyone knows– of course they do– but you pretend like there’s nothing happening anymore. You’re tired of people saying that he’s bad for you, especially when Mattias makes you feel so good.

You’re able to keep up the facade for a few months. Your roommate ignores the beeping of the alarm and the creak of the door from your late night departures and early, early morning arrivals. Your friends stop asking about Mattias because you stop telling them about what you did with him last weekend– you went down to Nashville in Tennessee for his team’s game on Friday night, then spent Saturday night on Broadway with Ti, a name that he hates but you insist on using. He wishes you would call him Sammy, like his ‘bros’ do, but you can’t stand the idea of being on the same level as them. You’re not his friend or his teammate. You’re seeing him, consistently, and isn’t that enough to consider your ‘thing’ a relationship? Not to Mattias.

He has changed you. He’s given you every reason to move on– a lack of a label, which you’ve asked for. A lack of consistency, which you’ve begged for. You’re tired of him requiring you to say hello to him whenever you see him around, but he’ll never do the same if he sees you. You can’t count the times that he’s offhandedly mentioned “Oh, yeah, I saw you in the park last week” or “Did you go to that coffee shop on Fifth the other day? I think I saw you when I drove by” or “Got you a ticket for the game. You’re still coming right?” (No, you weren’t planning on it, but his pouty lip in one of the rare pictures he sends through Snap goes right to your heart.)

It’s exhausting.

And yet, he’s at the end of every road that you try to forge for yourself. You tell him no– he comes over. You ask for space– he convinces you that you don’t need it. You get stressed about grad school and try to pawn him off– he tells you that he’ll quiz you, then reward you for every answer you get right.

You’re tired. Your grades are being affected. You’ve even called out of work for him, multiple times, something your manager isn’t happy about. Yet– you keep going back. You keep finding him at the end of the path.

There he is: Mattias Samuelsson, in all of his 6-foot-4-inch, 235-pound, goofy smile glory. One look into his smug eyes, insisting that he knows you even without saying it aloud, and you’re done for. You fall right back into bed. 

It has to stop, you decide. You’re set on ignoring Mattias for as long as it takes for him to get the hint. You’re upset about the decision, yes– but you’re tired of looking at yourself in the mirror and wondering if you even recognize the girl staring back at you. You try to convince yourself and say that you never left, you never changed, but you know that deep down, things are different. Maybe you and Mattias decided to be together in another life. In a third, perhaps you never met. You wonder which outcome would make you happiest and you aren’t able to make a real decision, but you do know that the current situation is making you miserable. You can’t keep doing this. 

Two weeks pass where you don’t text first. It’s the easiest way to start– letting Mattias come to you. He texts you a couple of times, but you tell him that you have plans with your friends that are unavoidable. 

Surprisingly, you’re able to make those plans happen. Now that you’re not hanging out with Mattias all the time anymore, they’re happy to see you and catch up. You don’t have much to say since the last few months of your life have revolved around a boy that they don’t like, but at least you’re there. At least you’re seeing them.

It’s the first time in a long time that you’ve gotten the breath of fresh air that you were looking for.

Everything is fine– improving, even. One of your friends says that she saw Mattias on Tinder the day prior and you can’t find it in yourself to care. You just shrug and say that you wish him the best. It gets you a few perturbed looks, but you couldn’t care less. You’re no longer under his thumb.

The itch is still there. If he called, you’d come.

And when he does, you do.

It’s more of a text message than a phone call. It’s through Snapchat, like always, but you’re used to that. Mattias’s tone, however, is different. 

You’ve gotten to know him like the back of your hand over the past year. He’s had you bare and laid out beneath him, ugly crying over school, and unable to stop laughing because of something he said that wasn’t funny at 4am. Come to think of it– the thing that wasn’t funny was that he had a tee time at 8am and he had still chosen to stay up with you.

Chosen to stay up with you. You’re not sure that’s true anymore. Maybe he had just waited it out, until you gave in and caved to his advances, and it happened to be in the early hours of the morning.

It doesn’t matter.

Can I come over?, his text says. 

You’re right back where you started.

His little Bitmoji pops into the chat as you stare at the message, debating your answer. He starts to type and you feel caught out, wanting to swipe away and ignore the message. You know you can’t.

I just wanna talk :/

Mattias rarely uses emojis, at least not the ones that look like actual facial expressions (he loves the poop-face emoji and the 100 and the t-rex). He uses manually typed emojis even less, only replying to you once with a “:)” after you sent a “:(” when he stole your water bottle and refused to return it unless you came over to get it yourself.

Because of that, you believe him. You call him– through Snapchat, by the way. It’s never any less humiliating.

“So?” Mattias asks, instead of a hello.

“Are you already on your way?” You ask.

His low laugh rumbles through the phone. “Babe, I’m already outside.”

“Of course you are. I’ll come get you in a minute.” You hang up, untucking yourself from underneath your comfy bedsheets and sliding on your slippers. You’re wearing your most homely pajamas, but the weather is starting to get cold, so you wrap yourself up in your bathrobe and go to greet him. 

Mattias is at the door when you open it. You’re not sure how he got into the apartment complex, but he must have snuck in behind someone else. He probably found a guest spot and parked there, or he stole an open spot in the lot that belongs to someone else… hopefully, he’ll leave before he gets towed. Your talk shouldn’t last too long– all you have to say is that this is over. 

“Hey, gorgeous. I was wondering when I’d see you next.” Mattias steps across the threshold and dips his head to try and give you a kiss. ‘Try’ is the key word, considering you turn your head to the side and he catches your cheekbone. 

“What’s up, Mattias?” You ask.

He’s taken slightly aback by your response. You know that from the way his hand drops from your waist and finds his pockets. “Are we jumping right into this?” He sounds a bit forlorn as he questions you. 

You sigh a bit, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have that much to say, Ti.”

He goes to correct you, like he always does when you call him ‘Ti,’ but he seems to change his mind. He looks you up and down, lifting a hand up to scrub over the scruffy shadow lining his face. “Is this over?” He asks.

Tentatively, you nod. “I think so,” you confirm quietly.

Mattias looks down at you, always towering above you in a once-sexy way, but now it’s just upsetting. You liked him. He didn’t treat you right. Yet– you still want him.

“So this is it?”

He sounds just as dejected as you. Although– he seems like he was quicker to acceptance. Probably because he’s got another girl lined up already, having met her on his secret Tinder that you shouldn’t know about. Who knows how long he’s had it– maybe he’s been on there since even before you stopped talking to him.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah, Mattias. This is it.”

He stares at you for a minute. With hesitation written all throughout his movements, he brings a hand up and caresses your shoulder. 

“Shit,” Mattias mumbles. He sounds genuinely regretful and it’s working. You want to wrap your arms around his waist and press your face into his chest and hold him while he hugs you, but you fight to stay still. “I wish I had known…” he trails off, then bows his head. His fingers find the neckline of your robe, toying with the plush fabric. “If I had known that last time was the last time, I would’ve made it better for you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you reply, your voice somewhere between a tease, a whisper, and a scoff. 

Mattias lets a little smile grace his face. “Just gonna miss you, that’s all.”

“Are you?”

He’s taken aback again by how brash you are, how disbelieving of his sweet words. It’s a stark contrast from who you were for the past year– the girl who was willing to go back to Mattias with just a slight nudge.

His lips part in surprise, pink and full and distracting. You won’t let his Cupid’s Bow shatter the guard that you worked so hard to put up. He’s so pretty. If things were different, you’d be happy staying with him forever. At one time, you thought that maybe you would.

“Of course I’m going to miss you,” Mattias says. “We were together for a year, babe.”

“Don’t call me that.” You turn your head to the side, biting the inside of your cheek. You shrug his heavy hand off your body. “You know we weren’t ‘together.’ You didn’t want to be.”

“It– didn’t make sense to me,” Mattias says, trying to salvage the situation. “You know that. With my job, I just don’t have time for a relationship.”

“So you decided to string me along for a year?” You ask. “You know I wanted something more.”

“I thought we agreed…” Mattias cuts himself off again. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry that you weren’t happy. I wish I could make it up to you, but… if this is it…”

“It is.”

Mattias looks at you for a little while longer. It’s absurd, how you’re still standing in the foyer of your apartment. Your roommate could be listening in. It’s not even that late. Part of you hopes that she is listening– so she can hear that you’re standing your ground and that it’s truly over. The rest of you hopes that she’s asleep and missing the whole thing. You feel too… vulnerable. This is a private conversation between you and Mattias. It’s the final bit that you can have, just between you and him.

“Can I kiss you?” Mattias asks.

It’s jarring and you go to say no, but he adds something before you can.

“Just– to say goodbye. I want to remember the last time I kissed you.”

He knows you just as well as you know him. He knows exactly how to break your resolve, exactly how to strike and when to get what he wants.

You fold. Unable to find your voice, you can only nod.

Relief spreads over Mattias’s face. His smile bares his top teeth slightly, just before he moves in. 

He touches you all over. One of his hands rises through your hair, fisting the strands and tugging slightly. He loosens the knot that you had tied your hair into while doing homework earlier, making the shorter face-framing strands escape and brush along your skin. His other hand encompasses the curve of your waist, then slides to the small of your back. He pulls you close, pressing you into his front and leaving no space between your bodies. You can feel his strong, warm figure fully encompassing your own.

You suddenly want to cry. This is the last time. You’re mourning Mattias already, knowing that you have to treasure the time you have left with him, to treasure this last kiss. 

You kiss him back, touching his scruff and fingering at the hair at the nape of his neck. You hear yourself whimper quietly against his lips, which makes Mattias pull you closer.

“Please,” he murmurs, sealing the plea with a lick into your mouth. “Fuck, baby, please.”

“Please what?” You say, lips still brushing his. That’s how close you are.

His hand brushes the globes of your ass, not quite cupping the covered skin, but definitely feeling you out. “One more time,” Mattias says. His tongue fills your mouth again, working against yours and distracting you. “Let me touch you one more time. It’ll be so good, please? I can’t let last time be our last time, not like that.”

You should say no and you know it. Then, his lips leave yours and he sucks a mark just past the curve of your jaw, at the sensitive spot below your earlobe. Heat pumps through your body and Mattias feels so strong and solid beneath your palms.

He’s working you, playing you like a fiddle. It’s so easy to fall back into your old routine, to let him have what he wants… what you want.

“One last time,” you concede, your voice still slightly unsure, and the relaxed sigh that eases Mattias’s posture is justification enough for your inability to hold strong.

He all but beelines for your room, intertwining his fingers with yours so that he can tug you along impatiently. 

His touches are just as sensual as always, but laced with an urgency that has your clothes falling away from your body in just a few moments.

He undresses himself much more slowly, teasing you until you’re complaining about how long it’s taking and how it wouldn’t kill him to just get on with it. Mattias reminds you that it’s the last time he gets to see you like this, and you with him, so he wants to take his time with it. That shuts you up.

You take in the soft skin of his chest and abdomen. He’s always been toned and muscular and broad, but the curves of his love handles and the fold of his tummy when he sits back juxtaposes the athletic body that you’ve come to adore. He’s long and broad and thick in the best places, although his body moves with the delicacy and grace of a much daintier person. That’s Mattias– a Russian nesting doll of surprises. You wish you could keep him.

“Open up for me, babe,” Mattias tells you gently, working his hand between your knees and nudging them apart. He kneels between your legs when they’re spread far enough, letting his hand slide along your skin and create ripples of goosebumps in its wake. He nears your core, his eyes growing focused on the skin between your legs. 

He always gets like this– hyper focused on the part of you that he likes most, the part of you that he’s claimed as his ‘home’ on multiple occasions. He gets so focused on the part of you that brings him the most pleasure. You’re finally seeing it for what it is: lust. Not love. Not a reciprocation of your feelings. Everyone tried to convince you of this for months, but you didn’t believe them then. You recognize it now… but you’re not willing to let him go without one last time in which you can fool yourself into believing it’s real?

So you let him in. You let him touch you. You let his fingers fill you the way that only they can, long and deft and agile. You let his mouth close over your clit, lathering spit into the bud until you’re dripping and writhing against him. 

“Ti,” you cry out when you get close, your nails digging into the muscle of his shoulder.

He grins up at you from between your legs. “Always liked it when you called me that,” Mattias says. “I don’t think I ever told you.”

Then, he increases his pace and he makes you come, flicking kitten licks over your clit like he didn’t just say something that changes your perception of the past and all the times he corrected you and asked you to call him ‘Sammy.’

You’re still thinking about it, his words running through your head like an endless loop, as he starts to work his cock into you.

“Say it again,” Mattias pleads, pressing kiss after kiss to your eager mouth. He makes sure he’s close to you, staying in just this one position: face to face, flush against each other, heart to heart. 

You repeat his little nickname breathlessly as many times as he asks. You watch the blush spread down his neck and his chest as he rolls his hips into you. He places his hand on your stomach, pressing down until he swears he can feel himself moving inside of you and you swear that it’s just making it harder to hold on. You don’t want him to make you come a second time, nor for him to finish inside of you– for the second time ever. The only other time was after your mother disapproved of him and he reassured you that she, and all of your other friends, were wrong. You don’t want this to end.

The room is hot and Mattias surrounds you. You’re expecting him to move you around like he always does, but it never comes. He lets you stare up at his face and kiss him as many times as you can and he does the exact same. It’s addicting and confusing and you want it to always be like this, but it can’t be.

He buries his face in your neck and kisses you, sucking hickey after hickey along your neck as he nears his peak. You can feel it in the way his fingertips clench on your skin, pressing tiny bruises along your hips, the back of your neck, and the soft skin where he sucked that first hickey– the one that broke your resolve.

Something to remember him by, you think briefly, although the thought only passes through your head and doesn’t stick until he’s long gone.

Mattias finishes inside of you, another thing to remember him by. He lets you grind into him until you come too, only subtly shifting his hips because he’s so sensitive. He lets his fingertips do most of the work, showering your clit in reverent touches that nearly bring tears to your eyes.

Conversation is stilted as you get dressed again. The weight of reality lies on you both like tons and tons of marble. It feels a little bit like being buried alive, you think.

You walk Mattias to the door. He kisses your forehead when he goes and wraps you in a big hug, holding you for a couple of minutes without saying a thing at all. He’s reluctant to let you go and you’re reluctant to let him leave. 

It’s for the best. This was the last time. It had to be.

In three weeks, you tell yourself the same thing as you drive to pick up a drunk Mattias from the bar. He called because it was close to your place and he couldn’t think of who else to call– said the bartender who talked to you on the phone. You may remember that it was the last time, but Mattias doesn’t seem to. 

His tender touches and babbled, drunken compliments reignite old feelings inside of you, ones that you’ve been hoping to quash for what feels like forever now. 

You’re starting to wonder if you’ll ever really be free of Mattias Samuelsson.

notes: in case this feels real to you, just know that i based it off of my worst situationship with my evil ex! i have been through this too, you know. i will desire mattias carnally... even if he is a red flag and incredibly evil in this one.....

[bramblesthatcat]

i know im not a steven universe blog but youtube knows i used to be a mentally ill middle schooler so i got recommended a bunch of SU songs and now i've binged the show again + movie + future and idk here r some of my SU opinions/hc bc fuck it why not.

opinions/thoughts

i totally think the Diamonds were redeemed way too quickly, and rewatching season 5 made me realize how god awful the pacing of that season was. they really needed a season 6 or like, split 5 in half idfk

obviously theres a difference between redemption and forgiveness, but I really wish that SU:F focused on that more bc it would've been a great internal conflict for steven but we only get like an 11 minute episode based on it (and yeah u could say that steven having mommy issues in Future is basically that but imo mommy issues r different than diamond issues)

pearl has the patience of a saint bc if my magical girl literal goddess of a gf/situationship left me for the 90's equivalent of a soundcloud rapper id never stop raging (yes this is partially a copypasta of that one tweet but they hit the nail on the head fr)

rewatching the series i love pearl so much i really see my younger self in her, especially w/ how autistic coded she is in regards to her feelings/emotions

i love seeing the different classic manga/anime artist styles reflected in each of the diamonds, like pinks design is so sailor moon vibes

steven shouldve flipped his shit before Future like, at least 6 times

headcannons/silly lil ideas

i like to think after SU:F and he's had time to heal, steven tries to connect with the diamonds and not run from/suppress that part of his family, like he's not gonna be 100% w/ them but he tries to at least accept it

steven also connects with greg's side of the family! idk I like to imagine he spends a lot of holidays with them to catch up on all the ones he missed

steven spends his summers in beach city and every other part of the year he dedicates to travel (idk he never seemed the type to settle down anywhere for long, and i fw the wandering nomad type)

steven grows his hair out as he gets older, like young-greg length (long haired men > literally any other hairstyle), despite the length it stays curly

once steven begins to accept/cope w/ being part diamond, he lets his hair go pink (either by dyeing it or magic, take ur pick) with the mentality of "im reclaiming this color from my mommy issues, also i look cool af" (this hc is mainly based off of how I like steven's pink hair in Future. style was first, lore was second lol)

post-Future steven is 1000% more willing to throw hands and lose his shit but in like a coping way bc he knows if he keeps it pent up it'll be 10x worse

steven definitely starts one of those van life style tiktok accounts and has a bunch of cats as his van pets

[dearrosaceae]

God maybe I do still miss him

Yesterday night, all I could think of was him, and so were any other nights. Lately, he’s been liking my photos on Instagram stories a lot which raised my suspicions. I had my coins on a bet that he would text me soon and he would text me first. It took a while but after the first few likes, he texted me first.

He deleted the text initially, followed by “Sorry, I accidentally press a button and hit reply”. I raised my eyebrow at that excuse. Yes, it sounded like an excuse.

A lousy excuse.

I wasn’t fussy about it either as I did have been waiting for him to text anyway even if it’s by accident. I was right nonetheless; he did text me, and he texted me first. I tried to play it cool, asking what’s up like that deleted text didn’t bother me. In reality, I was howling to myself. “I told you so! He came back?!” I cackled, which was so the opposite of cool.

“you missed me, huh?” I asked again. I didn’t know what got into me, I just thought to myself like let’s test the water to see where he is at right now, emotionally. If he responded positively, I’d take it as a go. To my disappointment, he shot that down as quickly as the question came. I was a bit dejected, but his casual response didn’t mean anything else either, just that he didn’t miss me.

Then again, he wouldn’t tell me if he missed someone else.

The conversation got upbeat as we got to talking. Just random stuffs like singing, about him posting really sad statuses, about me spamming mine. I missed this, us. I had to admit that, maybe I haven’t completely move on. I really missed him. I even thought of morphing the conversation into a phone call even, just because I missed his voice. I decided to not do that out of self-respect that I built for myself over the couple months.

I tried to milk the conversation, just talk about something a little while longer. I didn’t want him to go away, and let the conversation died out just like that. I ended up opening up about my best friend (whom I talked once here, and had a temporary crush on which was CRAZY and) whom had a familial-financial related personal problems. I asked him of his opinions, which he took the role adorably seriously.

I didn’t open up about too many things on my best friend as I kept it very vague, and I addressed mostly about my concerns on their circumstances and past self-inflicted abuses. He asked me a couple of questions as well, and gave me his opinion from a bystander P.O.V. I appreciated it, although his was not any different from mine.

I already knew what to do, it’s just that it’s a woman’s things to pretend to be dumb in certain situations in the presence of someone they like. Not that we are acting inferior, we crave the attention and just want to reel the guys in. Other than perhaps sometimes having the guys do all the work for us hehehe but the guys feel great to help too.

The conversation, like our situationship, met its end eventually. I said my thanks and bid him goodbye while he sent a sticker which I left on read. Somebody has to leave the chat, right? I prefer it to be me because I have a thing that if I’m the one left on read, I look at myself like I’m desperate. Most people might not care, so I take that generalization to my advantage.

Today, my day went as normal as it can be, per routine. I still think about him, which is also true to routine. My yearning for him might die down a little, but my feelings are harder to kill. I know it is not healthy and beneficial to stay emotionally attached to someone, but I don’t know if it’s any healthier to find a rebound; someone who I’ll form another relationship with in order to forget or move on from my past relationship.

Both options seemed toxic, so which poison will I ingest anyway?

[lifeoflustandwonder]

Currently

Im currently in two minds

The first mind says congratulations girl, you made it, you did it. You made it to a New country you werent ready for and you absolutely smashed it out the park. You've got a job, a house, a bank account (harder to set up as an international then it sounds), a few friends and even secured a situationship (more on this later, thats a promise). Look at how far you've come, look at all you've achieved. January 2023 you could never.

My second mind says jesus, you're homesick. You're struggling so much more than you are showing, but thats also okay. You're emotionally all over the place with being uncomfortable where you are at the moment. You're uncomfortable with the way this man is treating you, yet you continue to let him do so because you dont know how else to get that affection at the moment. You just need a hug, or a breakdown, or patience until you can get back to where you really want to be. Maybe all 3. You're craving love, in any shape or form. And you're not getting it, and thats making you emotional.

But you're not homesick for home, you're homesick for where you were before. Your new home. Your new home you've had to leave quickly due to legalities, you've left the weather, your job, your house, your friends, your perfect little life you were living.

But maybe this change has been for the best.

This is what I keep trying to tell myself. This change has been the best thing I couldve possibly asked for right now. Maybe I deserved to be grounded. Maybe I deserved the confidnce knock when the hairdresser took too my hair and cut off so much I didnt want to leave the house for two weeks. Is this what growth it? And no, I don't mean with my hair. Maybe this is what my growth is supposed to be, showing that even through so much emotional turmoil I can keep going. Even though at every waking moment I want to scream and cry, beg someone to take me back to where I belong right now because right now im not actually living. I am just here.

I don't feel present, I feel like I am floating.

This is only temporary, and these feelings will only be temporary. But this is the hardest and realiest temporary I have ever had to deal with and it is ruining me. I feel like a mess in front of my friends and they arent even in front of me. Messaging them all the time about how sad I am, I am so sporadic on my responses too them they probably can't keep up themselves. They are also dealing with their shit, why would they want to deal with mine too? They don't. But they do, thats what friends as for, and they will continue to step up for me, because I am so worthy of them and they keep proving that to me over and over again, but its just so hard actually beliving it at the moment. That I'm not bothering them. I love them, and they love me, and we all know that about each other, luckily.

But what about this man? This man that is showing me physical affection and not much else? What am I compensating for? I keep asking myself this. Am I letting him use me like this? Maybe I'm looking for that physical attention, and I feel like I'm hoping for something more even though I know there is nothing more too this.

I wonder if I am worthy of being loved like that.

By someone who wants to give me everything of themselves, all at once.

Right now, I am being used. It is that simple. I am aware of it. He knows it too, I think. I also know hes lying too me. 'Im not seeing anyone else' like I was born yesterday. I might be blonde, as he points out all the time, but I'm actually not stupid. God writing that down actually feels all consuming. Like my stomach just yawned open with regret. Why do I let him speak to me like that? Its simple, really. Sex.

The affection, the physical validation. So Yes, ill pay $50 to go to his place because thats what I feel its worth. Maybe thats what I feel I'm worth? God, thats awful isnt it? I know Im worth more than that, and I wish maybe he could see that too. I wish someone could see that.

I want someone else to see my worth. I want someone else to tell me they know what Im worth.

I am craving the validation from other people because I am so sick of giving it to myself. And thats so dumb, right? How can you be tired of giving yourself valdiation and telling yourself how great you are.

I just crave love. sadly love doesnt seem to crave me.

I know that I am looking for love in the wrong places.

I know that I should stop looking for love, because everyone always says that love never comes to you when you look for it. Maybe its true, but I'm like if I don't look, maybe it will miss me.

Im scared of being missed, scared of missing out.

I just want my cushty little life back, where everything was solid and I could build foundations and I could be happy.

Thats not to say that I dont love it here. Its a very beautiful place to be. I guess it would just be better and prettier if I wanted to be here. But I wasnt ready to be here. I am trying to appreciate it, but my experience is tainted. And that is more than okay, I need to keep telling myself that. It is okay that this is not my favorite place, it is okay that I dont want to be here.

[omg26lilly]

My first impression was your are my eternal sunshine, you are my first thought when my trauma is erased from my skin.

I wanted to save you from drowning, I'm throwing all your shit out, selling it to the highest bidder, I'm so thrilled that's over.

I get told that I'm known for being a homewrecker, that soulmates are maned with abuse, that I'm using my guilt to feed into fans praises, how can I lie when I did everything I could, yet the feeling in the room is yes and?

This situationship has been resolved, I hope you don't think of me badly, I hope life treats you well, you can send me sweet messages in the mail. How come you never think ill of the dead, when they're alive their dependency of abuse was so toxic, you had to let go of the leash that they had.

Wake up I'm looking through the mirror your kissing someone new, when my perfume cloud Eau de parfume is still sprayed around your room; I've found someone new, so I'm making a fresh start, no more treachery or lies, all I could say is bye bye.

This feeling it feels so supernatural letting you comb through my body, like a work of art, it's like when you're looking at the stars, they are all aligned in your direction. Can you name all the parts of me that aren't natural?

I'll tell you the truth I'll be whoever you want me to be, while I'll wait patiently to earn back your turst, I'll read the lines just as practiced and rehearsed. I'll be the good girl just as I've been since 15, 17, 20,21 etc.

I'll take my time believing your mine, this boy I would never of bet ... when my friends said I'll be fine, with your hands laced in mine, I'll explore all my imperfect tendicences, you are next to me as if perfect symmetry, this boy is taken, I could devour that your nothing I've ever tasted.

I'll walk be the most authentic version of myself I can be, why do I need to change, can you not see that everybody is hurting and that they deserve love? Thank you next. I'll protect my energy, that what I wear and how I look or how I serve. I'll walk on the pain, the burning fire of self realisation and reconciliation, move towards reconciliation within myself and peaches.

We can't be friend's go back to hating yourself and your jealousy that I'll always be loyal to you once again, maybe I'll win back your favour just by not listening to the haters. I know how to stand on my own 2 feet, I'm embracing this new feeling of acceptance I don't like how you take me, if that's what you make me.

I'll wait for your love because I wish I hated you, I'll rearrangeing all the memories, I'll learn to keep still, while your turn away, I wish I could say that I wish that It didn't end this way, no one was to blame when I was miles away and you could've move away from your career that you held dear.

I'm moving on jump in shotgun, this was a happy careless time, where I'm so imperfect, we leave our baggage where it was left, let's just leave it all behind, I'm so messed up I'm sure this where we all crash, burn into flames. Here goes self sabotage again, I'm anxious, insecure and I'm a mess.

No matter what I say or do, I'm just an ordinary thing to you the person I go home to, the alcohol dripping from your neck licking it off, you kiss and call me goodnight, we make up after a long night. I wish I could say it's a normal thing I can get used to, you are so nice, kind, I wasn't expecting that we both come out of these heavy emotional weights that were pointed as weapons, we put down our firearms.

It's going to be alright no one needs to believe that this is real, all we take is a leap of faith and trust that we won't fall. We are taking hold of the game and making it out own. We are everything we hold dear, we don't need keepsakes or souvenirs, just hold me close we will walk out when the climate is kinder, we will leave this times as I reminder of our strength and tenacity.

We are all want we need, maybe not for we came or asked for, it's what we received that I'm grateful and thankful for your guidance and your peace of mind.

15/3/24

[tyonfs]

monthly(ish) 🎀 update!

heyyy! it’s me. i haven’t done one of these in sooo long 😭 i figure i should start with what everyone is waiting on, arsal. truth be told i did not listen to anyone’s advice and im still hopelessly in love with him and it doesn’t help much that we’re both playing this back and forth hard to get game. truly it’s so like. draining to have him constantly on my mind. i think the problem is because when we were kids i liked him a little bit and now that all this dawned down on me it just became even worse because he truly is one of the first guys i’ve really really liked.

i’ve always had a bad track record with situationships and hookups and i never really really liked any guy i’ve ever talked to or been with but with arsal it’s so different. like even when i don’t talk to him something about him just makes me gravitate towards him. sigh it’s so hard being a girl 💔

speaking of guys randomly cameron called me one night after like 3 months of no contact and said he wanted me again and i told him i didn’t miss him and he called me a slut and said that’s why im incapable of love which is crazy because he is the first guy i admitted that fear to so good to know! he was drunk but it still made me feel a certain way.

back to less important things, currently im laying in bed in my hometown and it feels so surreal because it’s my last winter here and it’s just, hitting me. like ill actually have to leave this place i call home and it just sucks.

ENOUGH SAPPY THINGS! let’s go into more drama. basically i have a trio ish kinda thing with my main circle of friends, one is my best friend for ever i love that girl and the other is one of my guy friends and we absolutely hate him. he is such a man and it’s so disgusting how he talks about his ex. and he likes to act like he has a crush on both me and my friend it’s so weird.

kpop.. oh kpop. i’ve completely fell out of kpop once like school started again. i haven’t listen to any music or read a single fic since i fell out. i think it might be for good this time. but that does NOT mean ill ever stop sending in my updates, we are pen pals forever until somehow someone deletes my tumblr account and your account disappears.

god what else can i talk about. i turned 20 this year. so surreal truly. i blew out my candles and i think i stared at the cake in silence. i don’t even know whats happening to me at this point. i genuinely feel like im going through a (not mid) mid life crisis.

ANYWAYS. i know this isn’t like majority of my updates, everything is all over the place. and the vibes r off :( how are you doing alice? you mentioned you’re moving that’s exciting! is the place nice?? give me some updates girl i miss you!!

yours truly - 🎀

PLEASEEE 😭😭 i support you but also don't let him play you queen 😞🙏 i totally get the old flame reigniting type of crush tho it's so easy to fall back on the familiarity too :') i think also having a lot of good memories with someone makes it easier to keep thinking about those and looking forward to more 🤧

CAMERON??: 🙅‍♀️ NOOO also what the fuck?? what a dick :/ that is such a terrible thing to say intoxicated or not i absolutely HATEE when men just throw around derogatory words and put women down 😭 and i hope you told him off bestie, and if you didn't then i support going off on him whenever you want (or just ghosting for your mental health!!!) 🙏

it's always hard to leave home 🥹🥹 it feels so bittersweet cause you're excited about being on your own and living independently but it also feels like you're leaving behind the safety net :(( also GOD time to turn that trio into a duo cause why does he put down his ex and treat you guys like that?? :(

yes i love hearing from you so i'm glad we established the little pen pal communication 🥹🥹 but no i totally understand, i fall out a little too when life gets too busy :') but it's nice that kpop is something you can always come back to whenever you want (even if it feels like you're missing a lot of context since the industry is growing fast HAHAH)

the almost quarter life crisis is so real 🤧 i experience birthday sadness like every year even if i'm having a really good time <//3 it's just the fear of growing up and life changing as you take on more responsibilities, but you're not alone!! i hope that offers some comfort but we're all in the same boat struggling to feel like adults 💝💝

but yes the move is all done and the place is really nice !!! i've been meeting a lot of my neighbors and they're all very sweet and friendly, so it feels like a very supportive community 🥹 i've currently been deep in a reading phase so i've just been stalking goodreads like whenever i have free time 😭 i've also been talking to someone !! since like ?? november i think but omg my flight instincts are kicking in so bad i've been fighting the urge to ghost since december bc i'm so nervous ab this stuff 🏃‍♂️ like i'm just a girl omg....... but other than that i've been meeting up with friends and having a good time 🥰 OH and i Might go to coachella but we'll see because tickets are kinda..... ☹️ my wallet's gonna die and i wanna see svt this year sooo

currently my little project is this seungkwan harry potter fic that i started in december 🤧 but my goddd it's at 20k words and i'm barely a third of the way through <//3 but it's been fun to write!! so i hope i don't run out of fuel when i'm done HAHAH but i hope you've been doing well love !! 🫶🫶

[comphy-and-cozy]

congrats on 500!!! can i request 🌺 with prompts 2 & 128 with PLD or josty?

thank you so much doll 🖤

celebrate 500 with me!

Prompts: #2 “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” / #128 “you’re pretty.” - “you’re drunk.”

Pairing: Tyson Jost x Reader (f) Word Count: 740

Warnings: Alcohol use/mention, one (1) man with a mustache, maybe a slightly toxic relationship situation + a little bit of angst

The pulse of the lights above you syncs with the heavy beat of the bass over the EDM remix playing from the DJ’s booth. It’s dark, and loud, and entirely not your scene, but your newly-single roommate had dragged you out, citing a night at the club as the perfect recipe for moving on from her dramatic break up.

Of course, the club she selected was the most popular in Edina, where all of the summer NHLers went after Da Beauty League got out. And, naturally, she went straight to them when she arrived, which is how you found yourself on the dance floor, grinding against some handsy hockey player with a dirty mustache. 

He's cute, you suppose, but you know you're going to disappoint him when you reject his advances later on, not interested in a one-night stand. Not when your on-again, off-again situationship is standing across the bar, sloshing his 3rd or 4th paloma over his lilac button-up while he guffaws with a few boys from the summer league, each on the prowl for the night's prospects.

He'd caught your eye, once, a curt nod his only greeting. Typical.

There was a reason your relationship never progressed to relationship, and the answer was always Tyson. He'd be sweet, kind, doting one day, then afraid of commitment and distant the next. You couldn't entirely blame him for not wanting to settle down like so many of his friends – he was young, rich, living a bachelor's dream. What you could blame him for, though, was the way he strung you along, keeping you just close enough to keep you coming back for more, falling for his shit every time.

So, the last time he called it quits, you told him that he’d better be sure, because you weren’t coming back. And so far, you’d held true to your word, allowing whats-his-name to buy you a drink, and, when he asked you to dance with him, honey slurring out of his pretty mouth, you said yes.

Ultimately, though, you do end up disappointing Mustache Man, letting him down easy when the next song ends. You glance around for your roommate, who you eventually locate in the corner, lips locked in a passionate kiss with the guy you’d seen her talking to earlier. 

With a sigh, pleased that she appears to be getting what she wanted from the night, you return to the bar to order yourself another drink – one more, you decide, and you’ll Uber home, assuming that your roommate wouldn’t be sharing the ride with you.

“You’re pretty.” The voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you’re met with the brown eyes and messy curls of Tyson Jost.

“And you’re drunk,” you laugh, watching the way he stumbles slightly.

He scoffs, then mumbles, “Not drunk enough.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Tys?”

You catch the way his eyes flick to his teammate, the man with the mustache, in a subtle glance. He says nothing, just grumbles to himself as he downs the rest of his drink.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, not believing the gall he has to come up to you and say – 

“So what if I am?”

“You don’t get to do this, Tyson. Not anymore.” Your words are strong, but your confidence is not, wavering under the weight of his gaze that’s trailing over your collar bones, exposed in the top you put on with the hopes of attracting his – or at least someone’s – attention.

“What if I changed my mind?”

“You always do,” you scoff. 

You’re about to walk away when he grabs your hand, causing you to pause in your tracks. The sparks of electricity when his skin touches yours is impossible to ignore, but you do it anyway as you turn to face him.

“Please,” he says. “I want to do this. For real.”

The words he says are warm, and so is his hand on yours. His eyes are pleading, looking into yours as if he hasn’t done this same thing countless times before. You can feel the scabbed-over scars on your heart protesting, head telling you to run for the hills, that you can’t take another heartbreak from the curly-headed boy in front of you.

But your heart gets the best of you, like it does every time, and you tug at his hand as you make for the door.

“You’re calling the Uber this time.”

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Hendery x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Kun + Lucas ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Mentions of blood + Vaginal penetration (briefly), Oral (both M + F) ➔Word count: 2,769

➔Summary: Kun has a plan to get you and Hendery to work out your differences, but Kun's plan doesn't quite work out the way he thinks it will. 😉

Anon Request: enemies to lovers hendery smut?? thank you !! any scenario 🤎

You and Hendery watched as Kun brought out two chairs into the middle of the floor to face each other. Hendery's scowl matched yours, which made you even more irritated that any part of you could relate to him.

"I don't see how this will help. It-" Hendery began, but he was cut off by Kun's terse, "-Shh!"

The scraping of the chairs stopped. Kun leaned on the back of one of them and looked at you before looking at Hendery. He said, "I'm tired of this. We are all tired of this. Both of you have more in common than you think."

"We don't." you said, a little too childishly.

Kun narrowed his eyes, which made you fall quiet. "Sit down and work it out," he said, before walking out and slamming the door shut behind him.

"I'm not sitting down." Hendery said. “He can’t make me sit down.”

You were already sitting in the chair, but since Hendery spoke, you wanted to get up and resist along with him. Hendery paced around the room, looking more annoyed than ever. So, you stayed seated because you didn't want to be like him.

"I don't know what he wants us to do." Hendery said. "I have no problem with you. I just don't want to be around you."

"Likewise." you said.

"I didn't ask what you though, did I?"

You rolled your eyes. "Here we go."

"No," Hendery said. He leaned on the back of the free chair like Kun had. "You've had a problem with me since I first met you. I want to know why. It's because I'm so handsome, right?"

"Oh, please."

There was a banging on the front door. Kun's voice rang out. He was letting out a whole series of curse words followed by a bunch of angry grunts. Hendery cursed back and sat down in the chair with a huff.

"We will never see eye-to-eye," he said. "And that is okay. If it's okay for us, it should be okay for them."

"I agree." you said, crossing your legs.

Things were silent. Hendery looked at your legs where your skirt was riding up your thigh. You uncrossed your legs and pulled your skirt down. The way you looked at him in disgust made him smirk, which made you want to strangle him. In fact, you were gearing up for another argument when Lucas burst through the door with his finger pointing at both of you.

"You and you." he said. "Just sleep with each other already."

"What?" you and Hendery both said at the same time.

Lucas dropped his finger. "Just fuck. You know, make love, or, in your case, war. The sexual tension is too thick, man, I can't live here with you both like this."

With that speech, Lucas turned on his heel and left. Though, he didn't slam the door like Kun had.

Shock rippled throughout the room. You and Hendery both stared at each other from your chairs, his eyes wide, and your eyes sizing him up. Truthfully, you had wondered what it would be like to take out the aggression you felt for Hendery on his body. You had even dreamed about what it would be like once.

"Can you believe him?" Hendery said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "Us? Fuck? When hell freezes over, I think."

But Hendery wasn't immune to the way you were looking at him. Underneath your hot gaze, he began to feel a little warm underneath the collar. He couldn't stop staring at your legs, thinking about your thighs crushing his head while you sat on his face.

Without speaking, you withdrew yourself from the chair and got down on the floor. Your knees hurt crawling your way towards him, but nothing hurts quite like your pride. You would have never imagined crawling to Hendery like that but, somehow, it felt right.

"Not a word." you said, your eyes boring into his. "If you act smug, I will bite down on your dick so hard you'll be pissing blood for weeks."

"Ouch." Hendery winced, covering himself.

You stopped before him, your hands reaching out to touch him. Hendery moved fast, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down for you. He was hesitant for you to see his cock but, when he saw that you were trying not to laugh, he bared himself for you to see.

"Don't laugh at me," he said.

"I'm not laughing." you said, smiling.

You took his cock in your hands and watched him grow. He reacted like he hadn't been touched in years, which did make you laugh. Hendery moaned and bit down on his lips to stop the further humiliation. You stroked him and tasted him. You were trying your best not to think about how much you hated him. Having that control over him made you feel powerful, made it easier for you to suck him off.

"This is...an... unexpected.." Hendery breathed, closing his fists tight as you bobbed up and down his cock. "..event...oh god."

"You cannot be serious." you said.

Hendery came so soon, his cum gushing out of his tip. You didn't swallow him, just let him spill himself onto his pants. The noise he made was inhuman, and it ground you right to your spot on the floor. You watched him, holding his cock upward so he came on his shirt, instead, and trying not to admit to yourself that you ached for him to be inside of you.

When he finished and was through cleaning himself up, you both acted like nothing had happened. Hendery looked at you from across the room, the wet rag moving up and down his stomach. You shrugged and moved the chairs back where they were, ignoring how swollen and aroused your clit was.

Kun thought he had done something. Whenever you and Hendery were around each other, the bickering had lessened. Kun didn’t know that behind his back, Hendery was pushing his tongue into his cheek and staring at you. Mimicking a blowjob was childish, but Hendery didn’t have to know that you went home at night and masturbated to the very thought of him doing that.

Kun also didn’t know that, whenever he and the rest of the guys went out, you would sneak to Hendery’s room and fuck with him. Or rather, you would sit on Hendery’s face like a throne and have him eat you out until he couldn’t breathe.

“When will you let me fuck you?” Hendery asked, looking up at you from between your thighs.

You let your weight fall down onto his face and rubbed yourself against his lips and nose so he would stop talking. It’s not that you didn’t want him to fuck you senseless, just that having him penetrate you felt a little too real. You felt it also brought about the realization that you liked being in his company more than you thought.

After coming all over his face and having him beg you to do it again, you laid in his bed. “This isn’t a compliment,” you said. “but you’re not half bad.”

“I know.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I said it wasn’t a compliment. You don’t have to be so smug about it.”

He held up his hands. “All I’m saying is, you scream more when you’re sitting on my face than you do when you’re not, and for that, I think, is the highest compliment.”

You pulled his covers over yourself until they were covering your naked body. “I really hate you.”

“And yet you’re still in my bed.”

Before you could respond with a not-so-clever retort, Hendery went underneath the covers and started eating you out again.

It was getting a little too comical, you and Hendery’s situationship. You were both sure that none of the guys knew what was going on, even if Lucas occasionally shot you curious looks whenever you were together. Hiding was difficult and resulted in someone getting half dressed and running from his dorm room, as if everything were perfectly normal. To make sure everything seemed up to standard, you and Hendery would stage fights now and again. In reality, those fights got you both hot and bothered enough to slip into whatever place you could and either get fingerbanged or something else that left your legs weak.

What made it truly funny was that you began to grow feelings faster than Hendery grew his erection. Underneath all of his self-congratulatory ways, Hendery was actually fun to be around. You would often stay in his bed for hours just watching videos on his phone in between pleasing and teasing his body. He lasted much longer in bed as more time passed, and the vulnerability that you seemed so scared of in the beginning also made things more exciting.

Kun slammed down a bottle of soda to break you out of your reverie. The party around you zoomed back to life the moment he spoke. You watched Hendery talk to a girl across the room. Though he stole glances back at you, the jealousy was rearing its ugly head.

“Are you okay?” Kun asked. “You seem...off.”

“I’m good.” you said. “I’m great.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Can’t you see, Kun?” Lucas came up behind Kun and stole the soda from him. He drank a long, sweet gulp. “She is in love with Hendery. I knew that it was only a matter of time.”

“Yeah, right.” you said, trying your best to disguise the lie. “I would rather stay single for the rest of my life than ever touch someone like him.”

When Kun and Lucas didn’t reply, you looked at both of them. Kun looked as if he were going to say something but thought better of it. Lucas smiled. For the first time, you felt like you could pity yourself.

“I’m going outside to get fresh air.” you said, excusing yourself.

You walked through the room and felt Hendery’s eyes on you. You could feel him following behind you. When you made it outside and turned around, he was right there.

“Having fun?” you asked. “I’m sure that girl was having the best time.”

“Are you jealous of her?” he asked. “Please tell me yes. It would inflate my ego so much.”

“No.” you said flatly.

“But you’re not denying it.” he said. “Interesting.”

If you had answered him, you weren’t sure he would like what you had to say. Rather than face all of that, you decided to walk away. But Hendery pulled you back. You expected some joke, some kind of puffed up version of himself, but the man you were met with was the same man you met behind closed doors.

“Don’t leave,” he said. “Talk to me.”

“Talking never works out in our favor.” you said, pulling your wrist away from him.

“It helped once.” he said, smiling at the memory of you crawling towards him. When he saw that you didn’t smile back, his face changed. “I’m not the enemy, you know that.”

You wracked your brain for something incredible to say, but all that came out was a lame little. “Yeah, I guess.”

Hendery took a step towards you and looked at your lips. Throughout all of your bedroom excursions, you had never kissed each other on the mouth. His mouth had been all over your body, but never your lips. He touched his thumb to your bottom lip, but it was you who pushed your way into the kiss.

“Wow.” Hendery said, pulling a part. He kept his eyes closed. “That definitely tastes better than-”

You pushed him back and went to kiss him again. This time, with a little tongue that made him moan in approval. You felt that kiss in your whole body, right down to your toes.

“What if I just went upstairs and told everyone they needed to leave right now.” Hendery said.

“You don’t live alone. “ you reminded him.

He groaned. “I’ll pull the building's fire alarm if I have to. “

“I didn’t even agree that I was going to sleep with you.” you said, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest.

“You didn’t have to.” Hendery whispered.

Hendery took your arm and pulled you upstairs. He kicked open the door to the apartment so forcefully that everyone looked in his direction. You covered your face in embarrassment. If you met eyes with Kun or Lucas, you didn’t think you would ever fully recover.

“Alright.” Hendery called out. “Party is over. It’s time to leave. Everyone, please make your way out in an orderly fashion, thank you.”

When no one moved, you hid behind Hendery because you could feel him gearing up to say something incredibly inappropriate. But, instead, it was Lucas who spoke.

“You heard the man.” Lucas said. “Party continues at the bar down the street. Drinks on me. Let’s go!”

The crowd cheered and followed Lucas. Before he left through the front door, Lucas winked at you. Everyone filed out in a conga line, yelling raucously and completely ignoring you and Hendery standing there.

Kun stopped before he walked out. “I’m glad you both are working out your differences.”

“We’re working out something.” Hendery said, grabbing Kun’s shoulder and pushing him through the door. He shut it behind him and faced you, all of the humor gone from his face, replaced with a pallor that made him look ill.

“I hate you.” you said, but there was no hate in your voice whatsoever.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Hendery said.

You kissed him and brought color back to his cheeks. Rather than stripping him of his clothes and immediately going for his cock, you took things slow. It felt nice to be in his arms. Different, but very nice. You held each other and made out, things getting hotter and heavier as time passed.

“I’m done playing.” Hendery said.

He took you into his bedroom where he sat you down on his bed. Before you, he started dancing and taking off his clothes in a way that made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt.

“Done playing, huh?” you asked.

He took his t-shirt and brought it around your neck. You could feel the heat from his stomach being so close to you. You kissed his skin and looked up at him. You didn’t know when exactly it had happened, when Hendery had become a lover rather than an enemy. You certainly didn’t know when he had become your best friend.

“Yeah.” he said, pushing you back down onto the bed. “I think so.”

Just like that, the energy in the room changed. His kisses were deeper and more sensual. He had stopped the strip tease and had straddled you, his hands roaming up and down your body. It was difficult for you to focus on one thing. Your sexual encounters were usually full of him narrating exactly what he was going to do, but the Hendery on top of you kept you on your toes. He pulled down the top of your dress to expose your cleavage and let his tongue roam free. You let his hands move underneath your dress, pulling it up to reveal your underwear.

“Why does this feel so different?” he asked, looking down at you with his dark eyes.

For a moment, you thought he was talking about your body. You were quiet, not knowing how to answer, though you knew what he meant. When he removed your dress and slowly unhooked your bra and brought your panties down past your ankles, he realized with a shock what you had known all along.

“Oh, I like you a lot.” he said. “I’m an idiot.”

“You won’t find me disagreeing.” you said, sucking in when you felt his lips on your stomach.

“I didn’t ask you though, did I?” he asked, transporting you both back to the very first time you were intimate with each other.

“Maybe you should.” you said. “Maybe you should ask me what I want.”

Hendery stripped himself naked like his life depended on it. He was erect, his eyes full of emotion. “What do you want then?”

“I want you.” you said. “As miserable as you are. As wild as you are. As much as you annoy me, Hendery, I want you.”

Hendery pushed your legs until your knees were in the air. You breathed in deeply and looked up at him. He touched your pussy, his eyes still on you as his fingers brushed against you. “You have me.” he said, before plunging deep inside of you.

[its-me-im-coraline]

Temporary Bliss // Damiano David // Playlist series

words // 1441

warnings // lots of angst fuck, mentions of sex

pairing // Damiano David x GN!Reader

author's note // here's my taglist, add your name loves. this took a while till i finally made it but now that i did i feel kind of proud haha

requested // yes, here

summary // Damiano and reader have a friends with benefits relationship but Damiano has caught feelings. This is what happens when one of them denies the truth.

2.15 AM, Saturday

The clock had struck quarter past two, yet one more night the two were entangled in sheets, hands all over each other and bodies united. Damiano was kissing up and down their body with so much adoration. Soft kisses around the neck and that one very specific spot behind their ear, soft caresses of the waist and chaste kisses all over those lips; those wonderful lips Damiano was dreaming of asleep and awake alike.

They had come over again in one of those infamous “late night emergencies”, all too eager to be assisted by Y/N. Truth be told the man had feelings. It had taken him a while to understand but he had caught feelings for the wonderful person; for his nightly endeavour. It was not part of the plan, not a part of the agreement they had. Well, technically there was no agreement, they never specified a thing.

In that moment he found himself on his knees, hands roaming Y/N's body as his lips traveled all over their legs, dangerously close to where they wanted him most, and man did he want it too. His kisses were sloppy hands rough while touching their body. "You taste like heaven," he commented while finally giving some pleasure.

"Mhm, I know. You tell me that a lot, " they responded, a taunting smirk on their face.

The man was utterly fucked at these words. He knew he should not be doing this any more, he knew that very well, but being here with them was an addiction; an addiction worse than nicotine and drugs. No escape, no way out -at least not an easy one. Thus Damiano continued his moves, fucking them with all he had in him, taking his frustrations out just like they did.

“That was fucking amazing,” Y/N would say every time, this time being no exception. They meant what they said, and it’s what drove Damiano back again and again and again… All in hopes that one day the feelings he had would be reciprocated.

He was not even sure when these feelings began. Somewhere between the four to six month mark of this whole situationship. That’s when he noticed, that is. He was sitting there, watching them get dressed -it was the very rare occasion that they had stayed over- just so calm, so soft. Damiano knew then that he would not mind this being a common occurance -waking up to them in the morning.

6.26 AM, Saturday

The clock was now indicating twenty six minutes past six. Y/N decided they had overstayed their welcome, thinking the best idea was to get away from the dark room.

Clothes were scattered all around, their underwear lost somewhere in the mess, making their smooth escape all the harder. They did not want to open up the light, in fear of waking the sleeping man, and the half open blinds provided only a fragment of sun - not that there was a lot to begin with. At the time they were leaving the sun was not even fully up yet, although it was going to be soon.

Only cowards leave before the sun even rises, their friend had joked once, but maybe she was right.

Y/N was only leaving out of fear. The fear of catching feelings. Oh boo hoo you big baby. Such a great fear you got there, they’d say to themselves, but deep inside they did know how big of a fear it was. They never meant to hurt Damiano but they could not allow themselves to get hurt instead.

With a last glance towards a sleeping Damiano, Y/N walked out the room.

11.30 AM, Saturday

A yawn was the first thing to be heard in the spacey bedroom that morning. The man had woken up by his phone going off with a call.

“What,” said the man (knowing very well who was calling him at this hour), another yawn escaping his lips.

“Good morning to you too,” joked Thomas, “get up, dolcezza. Ethan and I are coming to get you. He says he wants to do something nice for us today. If you ask me, he just got bored of his latest hook up and is now lone- hey hey don’t hit me!”

“I don’t know if I can,” he mumbled, turning around on the bed, only now realizing that it has been empty, and for some time. “Nevermind. Give me half an hour.”

“Are you ok, Damiano?” Thomas was genuinely concerned by his friend’s tone. He did not sound very eager before, but now… Now he was disappointed.

“Yes-yeah, it’s nothing,” he replied, dragging his hand down his face, “just call when you’re almost here.”

“Alright!”

He was truly hurt by the absence of his… well, they were not really something to him, but oh how he wished they were. There was no point to this dismay, and he knew, but this empty and sorrowful feeling could simply not be helped.

With that thought he got up to get ready, knowing very well his friends would not be happy if they arrived and he was not done.

12.58 AM, Monday

The same all distinctive ringtone came from Damiano’s phone, the screen lighting up. The name displayed on the screen let the man know exactly what it was about. He knew what they called for again and he was so done with it. He was going to end it once and for all.

“Hello.”

“Damiano,” they cried. Something was wrong, great, thought Damiano.

“What’s up baby,” he questioned in a moment of weakness. Damn addiction.

“I’m just not feeling alright… Can I come over?” The singer was not sure anymore… Not sure if these tears were real or fake, but he simply could not just leave them alone when they were crying. If something was really bothering him and he was not there to help when asked for it, Damiano would be beating himself up for days on end.

“Sure. Give me a bit.”

One last time, he thought and hung up.

3.23 AM, Friday

Last time this happened it was for comfort, it was a way of comforting their violent thoughts. Damiano was done with those excuses and reasons, he was done with this ordeal. Too far, he thought, it has gotten too far.

“Stop it,” he said as he answered the phone.

“What?”

“I said stop it, Y/N!” He had grown frustrated with them and their late night needs.

“I did not do anything-”

“Agh,” he groaned exasperated, “you can’t fucking see it, can you?”

This had to end, and now. He was not willing to put up with it any longer. He could not continue on this temporary bliss, he wanted something more, something stable. They either hopped on this train together or they would part ways.

“Damiano wha-”

“I can’t do this any more, Y/N,” he breathed out. “I don’t know what you are feeling here (cause you don’t ever tell me!) but I-I am in love with you. I can’t just hook up and then act that those feelings don’t exist. So, I will ask once: what are you feeling about me?” He was thorough, sharp, leaving no room for persuasion. He truly just wanted to be done with the uncertainty and the pain.

“I… I can’t do this right now, Damiano,” they said, abruptly hanging up the phone, leaving a hurt Damiano to process what just happened.

6.49 PM, Thursday

“And they just hung up?” Thomas was shocked at the revelation.

“Yeah… They didn’t say anything, just… It kind of stings,” Damiano confessed. That phone call had hurt him much more than he ever thought it would. After the call he could not sleep all night, sleep would just mock him every time he tried. He found it hard to move out of bed or do anything else. He just sat there, staring at the ceiling and attempting to figure out what had just gone down.

Yet another conversation was interrupted by Damiano’s ringtone. It had started disturbing him now - this ringtone - considering the phone calls he had gotten recently.

Unknown number. A blocked number, huh. He was unsure of whether he should answer it, but after a second he did. But as he heard the voice on the other end of the line he started regretting it.

“Damiano,” said the wavering voice. They were crying, that much he could tell.

“Y/N?” Agh, don’s show worry, Damiano, keep it together. But he knew very well that was impossible.

“I- I am sorry. Can we talk?”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug

playlist fics tag list: @cheese-toastie-11

[annab-nana]

Bookshelf Confessions - Peter Parker

Peter and MJ are caught in the middle between a relationship and a friendship, a situationship if you will. There are definitely some feelings between the both of them, but when she overhears Peter talking to Ned about them in the library, she pulls you in to listen in with her and the conversation takes a turn you both didn’t expect.

A/N: Hi guys! So this was a late night tiktok inspiration. Here is the video I got it from and I changed the words up a bit to better fit how Peter would talk and to better describe MJ as well but anyway, I hope you enjoy! Oh also, if you guys really want it, I could do a part 2 to this but we will see :)

Part 1 of Books Tell Secrets and Lies

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 3.2k+

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“Ned, I need to talk to you,” Peter whispered to the boy as he grabbed his arm and pulled him between a couple of bookshelves in the library. School had just ended, and the mop of brown curls dragged his best friend all the way to the room filled with books and resources as soon as class had been dismissed.

Though it was a library and you were supposed to be silent, the way Peter was being exceptionally quiet and almost secretive obviously caught the eye of an observant and nosy Michelle Jones. She was about to join the pair, but upon noticing that her boyfriend—if you could even call him that—seemed to try to be hiding something from her, she stopped. If Peter ever had a problem, he would round all three of you guys up to discuss it, needing all of the brilliant sound minds of his buddies to help him make a decision. So, when he was only talking to Ned without you and her included, she got a weird feeling and hung back behind the shelf next to them to eavesdrop.

You were minding your own business as you searched for a book to write your English report—which you thought was ridiculous that you already had a big assignment to complete when it was only the second week into your senior year but that was a topic for another day—and you were walking past the aisles to find where the fiction books of author’s with the last name starting with Z would be found when a hand reached out to grip your arm and tug you into a nearby aisle. You were about to protest until you saw it was only your harmless yet curious best friend. Before you could open your mouth to ask why the hell she dragged you here, her hand quickly but silently covered your mouth, prohibiting you from speaking at all. Her other hand came up to her own mouth as she placed a finger in front of her lips signaling you to be quiet. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone.

Y/n: ??

She pointed towards the bookshelf and you heard the mumblings of one Peter Parker, the top of his head hard to miss when it was peering above the dusty books that lined the metal shelf.

You, MJ, Ned, and Peter made quite the friend group. Though you all were fairly different, your similarities brought you together and you loved having them by your side. What made it even better is that when MJ and Peter started their “relationship”, it didn’t mess up the dynamic at all. You all still hung out and you and Ned weren’t uncomfortable with their closeness at all, though you both did want to know if they were actually dating or not.

Since the Europe trip, they have been a lot closer. There was no denying that. You and Ned both have seen the stolen glances and holding hands under the lunch table. There was something going on there that they didn’t want to let on or they were just simply happy being together more often.

When you heard about Peter’s plan to woo MJ over the summer, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were not a little disappointed. You were ecstatic for MJ, but your heart longed to be in her place. He had looked to you for help in making her swoon since you had been her best friend for years and while you would always help Peter no matter what, it hurt to see him in awe of another girl. Once you found out that MJ felt the same towards Peter and you knew his plan would work, you pushed those thoughts and feelings to the back of your mind, far where no one could find them. You had been a tad upset for a moment, but when you saw how happy they were, there was nothing more you could do but support them.

You still were confused as to why you both were hiding from your friends behind a bookshelf before MJ started typing furiously on her phone to text you.

MJ: peter is being hella sus and i wanna get to the bottom of it

Y/n: you little detective

MJ smirked at you as you both leaned in a little closer to hear better.

“I’ve been hanging out with MJ,” Peter started, running a hand through those beautiful chestnut curls and focusing on Ned who was smiling innocently and nodding along to the conversation. “Everybody thinks we’re dating because I spend my weekends hanging at her house and watching movies or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Ned chuckled, clueless to where the conversation was heading as were you. MJ had a deep feeling in her gut that it would lead to him telling Ned he wants to break up with her even though they were not actually together, but she wasn’t quite sure that was all he had to say.

“She’s on the decathlon team, one of the smartest people I know, and she’s could even be prom queen if she wasn’t so against it.” Both the boys lightly laughed at that as you all knew MJ too well. You had to hold back your giggle while you and MJ shared an amused look before continuing to listen in on the conversation.

“While we study chemistry, there’s a little more chemistry between us if you know what I mean,” you watched the bashful boy sputter while pink dusted his cheeks. You looked to MJ who found the floor to be much more interesting than your gaze at the moment.

‘You guys fucked? And you didn’t tell me,’ you mouthed after placing your fingers under her chin to make her look up at you. Her eyes widened and she shook her head profusely before mouthing back, ‘no, just made out a lot.’ That put your heart at ease a bit yet you still weren’t fond of it, but Peter’s next words caught the attention of you both.

“But I have a secret I must confess,” Peter sighed, eyes flitting down almost as if in shame. Your eyebrows furrowed while your puzzled expression met MJ’s worried one. Your hand reached out to grab hers and your thumb rubbed smoothly over her knuckles, a small gesture you knew provided her with much comfort and though she was trying not to show it, you knew she was getting anxious.

“It’s not her laugh or the way she’d dress. She’s not the reason I’ve been thinking about love,” he muttered with his head still down. Ned let out a light gasp at what he was hinting at and your heart broke for MJ. You tugged at her hand and tried to step forward to lead her out of the library, this conversation being one she did not need to hear, but she remained put. She gave you a sad nod as if saying ‘it’s okay y/n’, so you conceded and stayed with her for emotional support. But you knew the second she left, you would rip Peter a new one if she hadn’t done it first.

“Every weekend we hang out, I lose my cool when she’s around over stupid little things that shouldn’t even bother me,” Peter stated with a huff, angry with himself because of how he felt. If he could love MJ and not feel at war with himself and his feelings, then that is what he would do but he was growing tired of the constant battle in his head and in his heart. “And I don’t know if this is just a crush.”

So, he liked someone else for sure because that was the second time he mentioned something like that. You were growing angry with the boy and you knew that even if he possessed superhuman abilities, your rage would overpower him. Your eyes mixed with sadness and anger sought out MJ again to check on her. She was remaining closed off as always, but she had begun to open up a bit more recently and Peter’s actions were putting her back where she was.

“How do I find the words to tell her,” Peter paused, eyes darting around before meeting Ned’s, “that I’m in love with her best friend.”

You and MJ both stiffened and for some reason, you felt uncomfortable holding her hand now. You were doing it to comfort her as you always have, but you were the girl her ‘boyfriend’ was in love with. Your wide eyes remained trained on Peter and Ned as you waited for them to further confirm your suspicions.

“Y/n?” Ned gawked at his best friend. He had zero clue that Peter felt like this, but he did know you had a small crush on Peter when y’all were formulating the plan to get MJ to fall in love with him. Ned had seen the way you looked at Peter and one day, he saw the tears that brimmed your eyes before you excused yourself to the bathroom, Peter too focused on perfecting each step to see that you were distraught. Ned left as well to go ‘get something from his locker’ and he found you fanning your eyes dry and blowing some air out to calm yourself.

“You like him, don’t you?” Ned questioned as you turned around to hide your embarrassment. You were crying over Peter Parker while helping him get with your best friend. It was silly.

“Hey,” he spoke calmly as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to hide from me. I saw the tears before you left but y/n, why are you helping him with this if you know he will end up with someone else? Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Yes, it hurts like hell but what am I supposed to do? Tell him I like him?” you spoke sarcastically but of course, he took it literally.

“Yes! That’s exactly what you should do,” he encouraged while you shook your head.

“I can’t do that to him, Ned. He is head over heels in love with MJ. Anyone with eyes can see that and though she will not let anyone know, I can tell she has a crush on him too so who am I to get in the way of that? They will be happy together and I will get over him. I will be okay, Ned,” you told him as you quickly wiped away your tears.

“Promise you’ll be okay?” Ned inquired, holding out a pinky for you to link yours with his. The childish act made you smile, and you did just that.

“I promise as long as you don’t tell him.” Ned nodded in agreement and you two unlinked pinkies. “Now I am gonna actually go to the bathroom to make sure I look fine, and I’ll be back,” you informed him before heading into the restroom.

“Yeah, Ned. I fucked up. I am going to ruin the whole group and their friendship. MJ will hate me and so will y/n for hurting MJ,” he sighed, leaning against the shelf to his right and keeping his eyes down. He felt so bad for this, but this was how he felt and he could not keep lying to MJ.

“Peter, you’re an idiot if you think they’re gonna let you ruin their friendship. They were best friends before you and they will be best friends after you too. You’re starting to sound like Flash,” Ned giggled while Peter shot him a glare, quietening him for a moment. “Sorry, but you should’ve come to this revelation back in June. Things would’ve been a lot easier.”

You had forgotten that they didn’t know you were there, and MJ was about to hear that you had been in love with her fling for a while and didn’t tell her. Again, you tried to get her to leave to spare her from hearing any more, but her feet remained planted. She was not going anywhere and if she wasn’t, you weren’t either. So, you stayed and listened beside her.

“What do you mean by that?” Peter quizzed and Ned’s eyes widened, realizing that he said too much. He let out a sigh before giving in and telling him.

“Y/n’s... kinda been in love with you since before the summer. I don’t know how much before, but she liked you when we were planning how to get MJ to fall in love with you during the Europe trip. I saw her tear up once and then I found out.”

MJ’s hand dropped from your own, her face reading shock and hurt when you looked at her. You felt like shit and you hadn’t really done anything wrong. Maybe you should have told her that you used to have a crush on Peter, but it seemed irrelevant since they were closer, and you never stood a chance so why add drama when it wasn’t needed? She took a couple of steps back before walking to leave the library, leaving you to follow.

“MJ, wait,” you called after her, but she was long gone. Tears filled your eyes as you watched your best friend storm away through the hall where you stood from the library’s entrance. You could have followed her further, but you knew MJ and you knew she’d rather be alone right now.

“Y/n...” you heard the faint voice of Peter whisper from behind you, a warm hand clasping over your shoulder as you turned to look at his freckled face. Under any other circumstances, you would’ve been thrilled to hear that Peter had liked you back, but your best friend’s heart was broken by him because of you as well and you just wanted it all to be fixed.

“You really had to tell him. I promised you I’d be okay if you didn’t tell him,” you spoke to Ned, choosing to ignore Peter’s presence in front of you for the moment.

“I’m sorry. It slipped and I couldn’t get out of it. I didn’t know you guys were right there.” He was right. It was not completely his fault. You two were invading on their privacy. You can’t help what you hear.

“Y/n,” Peter repeated, and your tear-brimmed eyes snapped to his honey brown ones.

“What?” You did not mean to come off angry, but you were aggravated to say the least.

“Are you okay?” he asked genuinely. The softness of his voice and eyes were pulling you in but you were so irritated with him at the same time.

“No,” you whispered, breaking your promise to Ned as he did to you. Peter stepped forward to hug you but your hand on his chest stopped him. “You can’t comfort me anymore. Do you realize what you have done? You have broken MJ’s heart, a heart I didn’t know was capable of breaking. If she sees us hugging, that will just drive the knife in deeper. You hurt me by dragging me into the middle of all this and because I didn’t tell her that I liked you, she probably hates me too.”

Saying that last little bit broke your heart. Your best friend probably hated you. Your crush liked you back, but you could not be with him which was more infuriating than longing for him from afar. You felt angry, upset, and exposed as your biggest secret was out. All the emotions whirled within you and you did let a few tears fall.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. This was not my intention nor how I wanted this to go at all. I’m so sorry,” he softly spoke before trying to hug you again as he desperately wanted to comfort you. He hated to see you upset. This time, you let him. You let your arms circle his waist and your head cry into his chest. You let him wrap his arms around your neck and press his lips to your head, something he had always done when trying to calm you down. You felt like you would have no friends left if you pushed Peter away so why do it? The reason why you should have spoke up and broke you two apart in an instant.

“Wow,” she muttered, saddened brown eyes dancing between you and Peter. “I came back because I wanted to talk this out before I stayed in my room and was left alone in my head, but you know what? I don’t really feel like talking anymore.”

“No! MJ, wait! Please!” you tried to stop her but her cold eyes and raised hand warned you to give it a rest.

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk but until then leave me the hell alone.” And with that, her head of unruly brown crinkles and curls left the building of Midtown for the weekend.

The interaction made you feel even worse as a sob bubbled up your throat. You had never been like this with MJ, and you were scared you were going to lose her forever. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound of you crying and Peter was quick to wrap his arms around you again, but now, you shoved him away.

“No, Peter! Can’t you see what this has done? We can’t be together. I don’t want to see you until MJ and I are on good terms and maybe not even then. I just...” you backed away towards the door, “I need to be alone. Ned, I’ll text you later.”

Ned nodded at you with a sad smile and held his pinky up toward you, his silent way of asking if you were okay similar to the promise you two had made months ago. While the action caused your lips to turn upwards only slightly, you shook your head to answer the question. He understood and he and Peter both watched you leave as well.

“Well, I guess I was wrong. You can come between their friendship,” Ned spoke up, trying to lighten the mood with a joke that was way too soon for Peter to enjoy if he ever would.

“Ned, not now. I’ve accidentally broken two girls’ hearts and they both happened to be my best friends. I feel like shit,” he groaned, rubbing a frustrated hand down his face. “I’m just gonna go on patrol to distract myself and then swing home.”

“Okay well, I’m gonna bring this to y/n and check on her before going home. I’d check on MJ too, but she scares me so I’ll just text or call her later,” Ned chuckled while holding up a copy of The Book Thief, the exact book you were hunting prior to the whole fiasco. “But you need to figure out what to do. You can’t ruin their friendship. I understand if they don’t want to be friends with us, but you can’t tear them apart.”

“I know, I know. I really fucked up,” Peter huffed while stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do but I’m going to fix this.”

“You better,” Ned stated before he left the school himself. Now all of his friends had left and were angry with him in different ways. He crushed MJ’s heart and then he crushed yours even more by unintentionally making your best friend hate you. Ned was more disappointed than angry, and he felt bad himself for spilling your secret. This whole thing was a huge mess that Peter had to fix to bring his favorite people back together and he was beginning to wish he had just kept his mouth shut in the first place.

Part 2: A Chemical Aquaintance ->

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[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hey besties!! here is part 8! Part 8 see's Amelia in a change of colours, her friendship with Jorgi explored more, an awkward Chelsea player and a cheeky Villa boy. Please enjoy & send me your thoughts! Love always, Steph xx

Part 8. | parte otto

word count;  1569 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Wednesday 11/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Landing in the rarely-sunny but always wonderful London town, Amelia was swiftly picked up from the airport by a man in a blacked out Mercedes van and driven away to her new club-appointed accommodation in the royal borough of Kensington and Chelsea. The 24 year old couldn’t help but feel a sense of home resonating through her body. Yes, Italy was also her home for the last 3 years, but there was something in the air in London that really made her believe that this is where she was meant to be.

Whilst happy that her quintessentially-British townhouse was a mere stones throw from Stamford Bridge and her family home just on the other side of the park in Holland Park she was still a 30+ minute commute, without traffic & one way, from Cobham. Beggars can’t be choosers, at least this way she was close to the hustle and bustle of London City, as well as her family and old friends.

A few days had passed since her talk with Fede, her swift departure from bella Italia saw only a small gathering occur at her apartment with some of the juventus boys on the eve before her flight. Constant check-ins from La Cosa Nostra whatsapp group chat, of course the word had spread to the rest of the Italian national team before she had even returned home from Fede’s place, meant that she was never left alone to her thoughts for too long.

Keeping the promise he had made when she phoned to tell him the news, Jorgi was knocking on her front door at 7:30am the following Monday morning, ready to drive the both of them to Cobham for Amelia’s first full day of work. He was the only person who knew she was taking this offer, other than the professional staff at Chelsea FC who had to organise her contract, so it was very much a nerve-wracking drive to the suburban training ground.

“Sapevo che stavi bene con il blu Azzurri, ma il blu Chelsea è un'altra benedizione che mi è stata conferita” (i knew you looked good in Azzurri blue, but Chelsea blue is another blessing bestowed upon me) Jorgi exclaimed as she opened the door to his car and slid in, having stopped right in front of her house in a no-park zone.

“Morning Jorgi, Thanks so much for picking me up - i’ll sort out a car this weekend i suppose”

“It's not a problem, I'm only a couple of streets away anyway so it's not out of my way.”

The pair caught up on the past couple of weeks without each other, speaking on the Fede situation and Amelia’s feelings. The best thing about Jorgi was how he was able to see both sides of the story. He valued Amelia's opinion and feelings as much as his long-time friend, Fede. He knew how hard it was for both parties to come to an amicable separation & he was making a mental note to call his italian pal to thank him for letting the girl go.

Amelia’s first day at Cobham was heavily administrative, spending a lot of time sorting out paperwork, meeting the team of staff she would be joining, getting her uniform, sorting out her office. After a quick bite to eat with the head analyst, Paolo (she just couldn’t seem to escape the Italians altogether), she collected her leather bound notebook and followed her colleague to the first team wing of Cobham. Whilst she was strictly working with the first team, she had expressed interest early on & stipulated it in her formal acceptance, that she wanted the opportunity to work with the academy players and the freedom to dip into the talent pool of Chelsea youth, to assist in perfecting her tactical plays.

She couldn’t deny that the blue of her uniform was the perfect shade to bring out the blue in her more-often-than-not grey eyes, she felt comfortable in it, she felt part of the team. Pushing open the door ahead of them, Paolo stood to the side like a true gentleman and gestured to Amelia through the door first.

______________________________________________________________

Walking in, I noticed that the scene in front of me was similar to the first time I met with some of these players. With their backs to me, facing the front, listening to every word that Tuchel was saying to them. I snuck in, stood to the side and waited for my introduction which came very shortly after.

“I want you all to meet the new tactical analyst that the club has appointed following a very successful european campaign this past summer, Amelia White” Thomas directed towards me, and just like that, a slight bit of deja-vu settled in as i watched 30+ sets of eyes turn to look at me. Some were happy to see me, some were polite and offered a small smile, and just one set looked a little shocked and very guilty.

“I trust you all will treat her with the respect that you show me, Paolo and all other members of this professional staff. We had to fight tooth and nail for this girl to join us and I can’t express how lucky we all are to be learning from her.” Tuchel dismissed his team, Jorgi pushing through the chairs to get to me.

“Amelia! What a surprise! Why didn’t you tell me about this!” Jorgi rushed over to me and wrapped me in a hug that I didn't return. Less than impressed with the boy's antics and sarcasm.

“Oh be quiet, you drove us both here today.” I spoke with a smile and rolled my eyes.

“Always the trouble maker Jorgi!” Mason Mount spoke from behind him.

“Amelia, nice to see you again! Can’t believe you didn’t tell us in the group chat!” Mason continued as he greeted me hello.

“Haha yeah, it all happened very quickly & to be honest, my decision wasn’t final until a couple of days ago. I had a few opportunities and I had to weigh up my options, Chelsea were willing to go a bit above the other clubs so it became obvious. Besides, someone once told me I would look good in the Chelsea blue” That someone also being the person who avoided my messages, and who is currently avoiding my eyes.

Later that evening.

“As if I deserved to know you picked the blues on sky sport?” Jack questioned the girl over facetime that evening, keeping their friendship tradition alive and cooking together.

“It all happened so quickly Jack, I was in talks with a few clubs and there was a bit of a tussle and negotiation stage and then I just had to pick one. Chelsea offered me the opportunity to foster the youth team talent and no one else was willing to cross-contaminate their professional staff” Amelia hurried down the phone, afraid that she hurt the brummie lad’s feelings.

“Calm down Mils, it's fine! I’m only playin wiv’ya. I’m happy for you - and me too, now I can come visit ya and have a place to stay in the city” He joked back to her. Jack had a certain way of calming the girl down, he reminded her a lot of Fede. He could read her before she came to terms with her own thoughts and feelings.

“Are you trying to tell me that you, with all of your friends and all of your money, need to rely on little old me for a place to stay in the city?” The joking tone went back to normal with the two flirtatious friends.

“No, I'm just saying that I'm happy you’re in the city. Ya know, it’s only a 2 hour drive. I could easily come down on a Friday after training and be back before a Sunday game…”

“2 hours is far too long to be in the car just to spend the day with me”

“That's where you’re wrong, it would be two nights and one whole day. Besides, 2 hours in the car is better than having to fly to get to you. I was prepared to do the latter anyway before your big move back to London” Oh did her heart swoon inside her chest, a quick blush spread across her cheeks and a little chuckle left her lips - unable to find the right words to say back to him.

Amelia knew the dangers of the situationship, this was exactly how it happened with Fede. She couldn’t help that she was naturally playful and flirtatious, she often didn't know she was doing it. Normal conversations to her often appeared like a hardcore flirt-fest to anyone who happened to be around the girl. She didn’t want to cross that line with Jack, she knew better than to do that, especially with how she hurt Fede in the end. She didn’t know where she was going to be in a few years, nor where he was going to be.

What she also recognised in the older lad that Fede also possessed, and she would be surprised if he didnt considering he is a professional football player, is that he was determined. Too determined that sometimes it was more about the chase and the challenge, rather than the aftermath or the reward. She knew Jack wouldn’t give up on her and would always be there for her. Was it bad that she enjoyed it?

Part 9. | nona parte