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narryffdreaming · 19 hours

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A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — FOUR (II)

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART FOUR: 21k words (I) - 11,2k words (II) - 9,8k words

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR (I)

"Okay, I'm good," Aurora says, standing next to Megan and behind the couch.

Ahead of them, all of their friends are already out there, near the water. Listening to music, drinking, and chit chatting while soaking under the Italian weather.

"And thank you, by the way," she adds. "I'll owe you for the rest of my life."

Megan laughs and shakes her head, then turns to look at her. "Don't be silly, it was nothing."

It wasn't, though.

Because when Aurora hesitated to leave the bedroom, Megan was quick to catch on her nervousness and stay behind with her. And she was also kind and sweet when asking if Aurora wanted to talk about it, or if there was anything she could do to help.

Then, when Aurora shared that she was self-conscious about how she'll look in her clothes, Megan was also empathetic of her situation. She seemed to understand it isn't just about her body, but also about what all those clothes represent to her. Because Aurora doesn't feel the same as when she was in her twenties and started dating Zack, so she doesn't want to wear clothes that will make her feel like that old version of her. She wants to move forwards, not backwards. She wants to be better, not go back to being the same.

So Megan stood behind and helped her feel more comfortable about herself, supporting her decision of wearing the colorful one-piece she'd bought instead of the bikini Maddie had packed for her, and then even offering her own linen shirt for Aurora to wear on top of it. Which, as it turns out, ended up being a great idea, and the last push she needed to feel that boost of confidence inside her.

"You look incredible, by the way," Megan says.

Aurora looks down at her feet — her bare feet — and smiles. "Thanks."

And she means it. Because, truth be told, right now Aurora feels good about herself. Her legs are out and her boobs are definitely about to get some sun — as they deserve — but that doesn't mean she's half-naked. Her stomach is still covered, and her bum isn't completely out in the open. Besides, that shirt's making everything way more comfortable.

"Shall we?" Megan asks.

"Yes." Aurora nods. "Let's go, c'mon."

Megan leads the way, then, while Aurora follows her closely.

Once they step outside, it's easy to say that it's the most breathtaking view Aurora's ever seen. Despite the coastline being at sight, it feels like they're completely by themselves, surrounded by nothing but water while facing the sun and the different shades of blue that blend in the horizon.

Lucy, Ava and Maddie are sitting by the pool, while the boys stand by the swim platform — Theo and Niall facing the yacht, while Jayden, Daniel and Harry face the horizon.

A shirtless Harry, though.

A shirtless Harry facing the horizon, with his bare back fully exposed to her.

And although Aurora tries her best to appear nonchalant and unaffected, it's hard not to feel her legs wobbling, or her mouth watering up. Because those black shorts he's wearing are really short, and there are so many muscles popping out that she wouldn't believe him if he said his body is built the same way as anyone else.

"Baby! Moonshine!" Niall cheers, raising his hands. "Finally!"

Everyone turns to look at them, and Aurora slows down slightly, almost hiding behind Megan.

"Took you long enough," he adds, opening his arms for his girlfriend.

Aurora watches as Megan smiles and rushes to him, hugging his waist while he holds her shoulders and kisses her temple.

It's cute.

They're cute.

So Aurora smiles, too.

And then she just stands there.

Awkwardly. Not really knowing what to do with her legs. Or with her hands. Or with herself.

She glances to one side, admiring the blue horizon, and to the other one, appreciating the coastline one more time. And then, she faces forward, and her eyes automatically land on Harry. Again.

He's turned half-way towards her, drinking beer while glancing at her feet, then running his eyes up her legs, drifting from her knees, to her thighs, and her hips. She doesn't know if it's intentional, like before, but it doesn't seem so, because when he gets past her chest and neck, then finally meets her stare, he widens his eyes and chokes.

He actually chokes — just like when they were in the car and she teased him about speaking Italian. Coughing and leaning forward while hitting his chest.

And yet… It's not just like when they were in the car, is it? Because now the boys are quick to tease him and laugh at him. And because now Aurora feels the heat spreading through her cheeks, and the nervousness taking over her belly. And because now it doesn't feel like just a friendly joke, because apparently Harry got flustered for getting caught. And because he got caught checking her out. Checking her body out.

So instead of acknowledging what happened, now Aurora pretends not to see it. And not to hear what's being said. And as she pretends everything is normal, she turns around and walks towards the girls. Knowing very damn well that, at the same time, there's a new feeling lingering inside her. Like a tingling. A feeling that's running through her veins, and that's making her anxious to see what could come next. Or where it could end.

That tingling is growing. And it's getting serious.

Aurora can't explain it, or put it in words, but she feels it in her bones.

She's sitting on one of the steps leading to the swim platform, where everyone is just hanging around.

Her lungs are full from ocean air, and the wind keeps whipping her hair, but it also makes the sun on her face feel less aggressive than it felt earlier in the afternoon.

Harry's sitting right in front of her, by the edge of the platform. Bending one leg at the knee and the other falling to the water while he hooks his arms around his thigh. His stunning smile seems to shine brighter than the sun, and once in a while she can see him slightly turning his head to look at her, or maybe just peeking through the corner of his eyes.

And as she talks to her friends by her side, or as she watches Lucy, Maddie, Ava, and Theo finally jump into the water, she knows she's been glancing at him non-stop, too. Because she can't help it. It's like someone casted a spell on her and she's now hypnotized.

The worst part is that Harry isn't even trying. He just keeps listening and nodding at whatever Daniel and Jayden are talking about, occasionally throwing his head back in laughter or being loud and goofy for apparently no reason. His dimples keep showing up as he speaks and smiles, and every time he laughs, his mouth falls open and his eyes wrinkle.

The image of him being that happy is breathtaking, but the sound of his laughter astonishes her. It makes her heart beat faster, and to hope for him to sit next to her and give her all of his undivided attention.

Earlier that day, Aurora fell asleep on his chest. Harry held her between his arms, and gently took care of her. She melted into him, more than once. She felt his fingers against her skin, and his lips on the top of her head. She remembered how tender and affectionate he could be, and she's still aware that everything she could think about when she woke up from her nap on the plane, was how cozy and warm she'd felt when cuddled by him.

However, hours later, Aurora finds herself watching him from a new perspective. One that doesn't take away what she already knows about him, but only adds more valuable information. It just makes him look even better in her eyes.

And she knows she's never paid this much attention to Harry's body. Not like this, anyway. In all the years they spent together, she never observed him too much to actually know what anything besides his face looked like. Not only because the opportunity never came up, but also because she never thought about looking at him like that. So she has no idea if this is how he's always looked or not, but right then and there, Aurora is convinced Harry is bloody fucking hot.

He is drinking beer, and everytime he takes the bottle to his mouth the muscles on his arm flex. He is also chewing gum, and the movements of his jaw are absorbing. The veins on his neck keep popping out, and his broad shoulders keep bringing up the memories of the many times she has hugged him and rested her chin on top of them.

In all of those "many times", not even once it crossed through Aurora's mind the idea of hiding her face into his neck, breathing him in and kissing every inch of skin she could reach. But right then and there, it is all she can think about.

For the first time in too long, Aurora feels flushed.

Actually flushed.

And she has no idea what to do with that. Because it's becoming very clear to her that different parts of her body are suddenly awake, and that's all because of him.

All because of Harry.

Harry!

"Can I ask you something?" Megan asks, taking a seat next to her.

Aurora jolts slightly, blinking as she shifts her eyes to her friend and nods. "Yeah, sure."

Megan bends her legs and hugs her knees, turning her face towards Aurora and murmuring as she asks, "Is there something going on between you and Harry?"

Aurora widens her eyes. "What? I mean, why?"

"I don't know," Megan murmurs, making sure the conversation stays only between them. "I hear him and Niall on the phone sometimes, so I kinda figured something was up. But then today I saw the way you look at each other, and y'know, everyone's just been joking about it all day… So I thought… Y"know."

She shrugs.

Aurora bites the inside of her cheek and nods, taking the information in. She doesn't know how they look at each other, but she's aware that they've been doing it a lot. And she didn't actually hear what the boys said when they were teasing him, but she knows it happened. Just like she knows the girls were teasing her. So, yeah, she gets where she's coming from.

And yet, there's one piece from that weird and unexpected puzzle that Aurora can't make sense of, so she asks, "He talks to Niall about me?"

Megan smiles, and nods. "I mean, they're always talking about you… But… You didn't know that, right?"

Aurora shakes her head.

"Yeah, I should've figured… I mean, from what I heard and—Oh my God!" Megan widens her eyes and grabs Aurora's arm. "Rory, I don't usually go around telling people's secrets, ok? Especially Niall's. I'd never do that. I swear."

Aurora chuckles, stretching her legs and crossing one ankle over the other. She takes the opportunity to glance at Harry, who still seems pretty entertained with whatever Daniel is saying to him.

"Don't worry about it," she says, looking back at Megan. "What do they talk about, tho? I mean, what is there to talk about me?

Megan withdraws her hand and places it back on her lap, then peeks at Harry and curves her lips into a smile.

"I find it very sweet, actually," she says quietly and softly, then looks back at Aurora. "He always asks Niall if he heard anything from you, or how you are, and how's Noah… Those kinds of things. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but… I don't know. I don't really know you guys that well, but Harry seems to really care about you, and from what I've heard today, you deserve to get over your ex, so… I don't know… I guess I thought you should know… Because… Yeah… I don't know why."

They both laugh, and Aurora nods at her.

"Thanks for letting me know. I'm really confused about the whole thing, but thanks anyway."

"Do you want something to happen? Like, have you ever thought about it?"

"What? Me and Harry?" Aurora practically mouths. And when Megan rolls her eyes, she laughs and shakes her head. "God, no… Never. I mean… I haven't thought about anyone since Zack, to be honest."

"Hmm." Megan nods. "But you're single now, and Zack isn't in the picture anymore, right?"

"Right."

"Wouldn't it be nice if something happened between you and Harry, then?"

Yes.

Aurora shrugs. "I… I don't know. I feel very weird about it."

"Why?"

Exactly, why?

Why would it be weird?

If everything around him feels so natural and effortless… Why would it be weird?

Aurora chuckles and groans, looking at her feet and shaking her head. When she speaks again, she lowers her voice as much as she can. "I just saw him again, Meg. Literally. Like, after years without seeing or even talking to each other, y'know? So it's just… Weird."

"Do you find him attractive?"

Fuck yes.

Aurora rolls her eyes, and shrugs.

"Oh my God, you totally do!" Megan claps her hands together, giggling before tapping her fingers on her knees. "You find him attractive and you're shy to admit it!"

"Shhhhh," Aurora whispers, clenching her teeth and widening her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry." Megan giggles. "I just love this!"

The way Megan radiates joyness at the whole thing makes Aurora chuckle, and she shakes her head, then scratches the tip of her nose.

"I think you should go for it," Megan adds.

Maybe…

But no.

Mostly because Aurora doesn't know how to do that anymore. There used to be a time when she had fun flirting with guys, and when she didn't doubt her instincts. Now, though? Now it's like she doesn't even have instincts anymore. It's like her mind isn't telling her what to do anymore. Or her body isn't reacting by itself anymore.

Besides, they've just seen each other. After six years.

Aurora reaches for her necklace, then. "Wouldn't it be too fast, tho?"

"I don't know…" Megan shrugs. "I'm hardly one to talk, tho. I met Niall at a bar on a Friday night, went back to his place and didn't leave until Sunday morning, so…" She shrugs again. "We clicked, and that was it. Was it fast with your ex-husband, too?"

Aurora snorts. "No, not at all. We were co-workers first, and we were friends for months before Zack asked me out on a date. It also took him months to officially ask me to be his girlfriend."

"Mhmm…" Megan nods, half-smiling while glancing at Harry, then back at her. "So… You took your time getting to know each other, and yet you still divorced him."

Aurora scoffs, then narrows her eyes. "Yeah, okay. I see where you're getting at."

Megan shrugs and beams at her. "Yep. I'm getting at the fact that maybe it's not about time, it's about the person."

She looks so proud of herself for coming up with that conclusion, that Aurora ends up laughing. And maybe her laughter is a little bit louder than it should be, because it seems to get Harry's attention. She notices it when he turns his head and looks at her, and when she really needs to hold herself from looking back at him.

"God," she breathes out, looking down at her thighs and grabbing her necklace between her fingers. "I feel like this is too much information… Like, my head can't get around this. We literally just saw each other. This morning. After six years."

Aurora laughs, and the incredulous tone gives away the nervousness behind her thoughts. And behind her feelings.

"Like I said, I think you should go for it. He's totally into you… I mean, there's absolutely no way he isn't."

That's the thing, though… Absolutely no way? Really? What if they're wrong?

"Right… Well… I don't know." Aurora sighs. "I need some time to process this."

"Okay, yeah. So let's stop talking about it. Let's just… Y'know… Enjoy the view… The sun, the water… Also," — Megan leans in, and hides her mouth from any potential pryers — "you should think about it while you stare at those tattoos. And those mind-blowing abs."

Aurora laughs loudly again, mostly at the fact that Megan is suddenly comfortable enough to joke like that around her.

"I mean," Megan adds. "If Niall asks, I find them ridiculous, ok? Not my type. Ew. But… Y'know… I truly, truly hope you get to enjoy… That."

"Y'know," Ava says, standing near the couch and placing her hands on her hips. "Those colors look really nice on you."

Aurora stops walking and looks down at her body, meanwhile taking a sip from her piña colada. Her breasts are right there, popping out at her, Megan's shirt long forgotten after she decided to spend a few minutes in the pool with Lucy. And she had missed showing them off. They used to be her favorite part of her body.

"You think so?" she asks.

"Totally!"

Aurora giggles. She walks down the steps to the outdoor lounge, smiling while getting closer to her friend.

"Where did you get it?" Ava asks.

Aurora takes another sip of her drink and closes her eyes. Tasting the pineapple, coconut, and rum inside her mouth.

"God, this is delicious…" She opens her eyes and glances back at Ava, then giggles. "Sorry… Hmm… It's actually Mara Hoffman, I got it on sale."

"Wow!" Ava smirks. "I love fancy Rory! It's perfect for the occasion."

"Shut up." Aurora laughs, waving her off. "It was the first thing I bought after I signed the divorce papers." She shrugs. "Felt kinda liberating."

"Ohhh, let's toast to that, then!" Ava runs closer to Aurora, raising the hand holding her drink.

They giggle while clicking their glasses together, each taking a one-long sip right after.

"Wait, no!" Ava cries. "We skipped the speech!"

"We don't need a speech."

"Yes, we do! Every toast needs a speech," Ava says, but proceeds to take another sip of her drink anyway.

"Okay, lemme hear it, then."

"Okay, so," Ava says, and rolls her shoulders.

Aurora takes another sip, enjoying her drink while she listens to the unnecessary speech.

"Here we go." Ava clears her throat, and raises her glass. "To our newly divorced, incredible, breathtaking, hot, sexy mama, who's—"

Aurora chokes, spitting half of her drink out of her mouth before she can even try to cover it up. Part of it goes down Aurora's chin, and the rest directly to Ava's chest and belly.

There is a short silent pause, then loud laughter takes over the two of them.

"Oh my God!" Aurora yells, whipping her chin with the back of her hand. She hunches down, laughing and putting one hand over her stomach.

"Moonshine!" Niall shouts from where he is sitting, next to the pool. "Are you drunk without me?!"

"'M not drunk!" Aurora shouts back, still laughing at the way the drink sneaked out between her lips. "Ava is just… Oh my God… She's just being stupid!"

Ava gasps, then shoves Aurora's shoulder. "Hey! I'm not stupid! What did I do?"

Aurora's still laughing, but she lowers her voice to make sure nobody listens when she explains, "You called me sexy mama."

"Ohhh! Well that's just 'cause I think you are a sexy mamma!" Ava finishes her drink, glancing over Aurora's shoulder before smirking and looking back at her. "Besides, I know for a fact that I'm not the only one who thinks that."

Aurora sips her drink, and narrows her eyes. "What?"

Ava puts her empty glass on the table, then turns her back to the water, forcing Aurora to turn around too, standing in front of her and facing the opposite side. "Harry won't stop looking at you."

Aurora rolls her eyes. "That's not true."

It is, though. She knows that.

"Yes, it is. C'mon, it's so obvious… He doesn't even try to hide it anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mhmm… Okay then." She wiggles her eyebrows and leans closer to her. "Auriiii."

Aurora purses her lips, doing her best to keep a straight face. It only lasts three seconds before laughter comes out of her chest, though, and she shakes her head. "Shut up…"

"Ah!" Ava squeals. "See?! You know!"

"Stop…" she practically cries, raising her arms and hiding behind her hand — and her drink. "I feel so silly about this!"

"No! Why? Rory, oh my God. It's so sweet. Really. I'd truly love that for you. He's such a great guy."

Aurora puts her hands down from her face, then shakes her head.

"I don't think it's the right time to be thinking about this."

Ava snaps her eyebrows together. "Why not?"

"I just got divorced and—"

"Na-na-na!" Ava shakes her head, waving her hands in front of Aurora's face. "Don't give me that bullshit again. It's been months now, Rory! C'monnn… How long since you've had sex? Huh?"

Aurora shrugs. "I don't know."

Ava rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, right," she snorts. "Of course you know. Just tell me, c'mon."

Aurora takes a sip of her drink, shuffling on her feet while gathering enough courage to speak.

"I mean… We ended things over a year ago, and before that it had already been a while, so…"

"So…" Ava smiles, wiggling her eyebrows again. "It's time to get laid."

Aurora snorts. "No it's not."

"Yes it is. You deserve to get laid."

"Stop."

"Roryyy…"

Aurora chuckles, shaking her head. "Why are you so excited about this, anyway?"

"Because you deserve to feel good, Rory," Ava says. "And because you deserve someone who'll care about making you feel good."

Aurora raises her left eyebrow. "And you think Harry's that person?"

Ava nods. "I know for a fact he is."

"How—"

"Look, don't think too much about this, okay? Just enjoy it."

Aurora sighs, rubbing her forehead and shaking her head.

"Don't you think it's nice?" Ava asks, then, placing one hand on her shoulder. "That excitement of meeting someone? That tension before something happens?"

Aurora looks over Ava's shoulder, seeing Harry climb back to the yacht.

He is soaked. His entire body is dripping water, his shorts are heavy and stuck against his skin, and there are no traces of his curls as his hair is pulled back.

She knows that the excitement Harry makes her feel is, in fact, "nice". He makes her feel safe, he makes her laugh, and he makes it seem easy. However, the problem right now isn't him, or what he's making her feel, but how she's reacting to all that.

So inexperienced and… Childish. Shy. Unsure of herself.

And she hates that. So much! Because it's not who she wants to be. It's not who she used to be.

Then once again, Harry turns his head to where she is, and locks eyes with her. He pulls his hair back and blinks, then tilts his head slightly and frowns. Almost as if he's asking if she's okay, or what's going on.

"Are you looking at him right now?" Ava asks.

Aurora doesn't stop staring at him, but she still nods, then takes the last sip of her piña colada. "Mhm."

"God." Ava snorts. "I swear to God Aurora, it's written all over your face. It's written all over both of your faces. So if you don't go for it… I don't know. I think I'll just kill you both."

Aurora snorts. Then laughs.

And Harry smiles.

And Aurora's belly buzzes. And her body tingles.

And then she shakes her head and looks down, eying the empty glass in her hand.

"Okay. I think I need another drink now."

Aurora puts her empty glass on the table and gets up from the couch, finally — finally — walking back to the swim platform.

Niall, Jayden and Megan are standing near each other, having a loud and enthusiastic conversation about something she doesn't understand. Nor cares about. But she stands close to them anyway, listening and waiting for Harry to come back from wherever he went to just minutes ago.

Megan's sharing a story about her job and softwares, or something along those lines, when Aurora hears the sound of feet against the wooden deck, and then some coughing.

Her heartbeat picks up inside her chest, and a fuzzy rush of anticipation takes over her body. Knowing exactly who it is. And knowing she's been waiting for that. That she's been thinking about that. About being around him again, about getting closer to him again. About talking to him again.

So she bites her lip, and waits. Waits for him to finally stand by her side, or maybe just walk past her and stop right across from where she is. Where he's going to be able to look at her face.

So she waits, and waits.

And yet she never sees him.

Instead, she feels him hunching behind her, and then the way he sneaks his hands under her elbows. "What—"

"Hey Auri," he murmurs, curling his arms around her waist and pushing her back against his bare chest.

"Wait—What are you—"

He tightens his hold around her belly, then lifts her feet from the ground.

"Oh my God…"

She puts her hands on top of his forearms, and Harry steps forward.

"Harry!" Aurora shouts, and laughs, kicking her legs as he walks towards the edge of the platform. "No, no, no… Stop! Harry! Stop! Oh my—"

Harry jumps, though, and Aurora gasps as he takes her along with him.

She closes her eyes and presses her lips together, holding her breath and scrunching up her face right before the cold water hits her feet and then her entire body.

Sounds die down as they sink into the Mediterranean Ocean, heaviness pushing them towards the distant bottom and causing Harry's arms to loosen up around her waist.

He never lets go of her, though. If anything, he reacts by squeezing her even tighter, pulling them back up with the same confidence and strength he just dropped them.

It only takes a second for Aurora's instincts to kick in as well, forcing her to move her arms and legs in an attempt to reach the surface.

The fresh air quickly hits her face, and Aurora gasps for air, deeply and loudly. And then she coughs. And coughs. And coughs again.

Harry's head comes up from under the water right behind her, and she turns around.

"Harry!" She laughs, and coughs, kicking her legs to keep her body floating and taking her hair out of her face.

"Hiii." Harry smiles, moving his arms and legs to stay afloat, too.

"Hi? Hi?!" The smile stays on her face while she splashes him with water, and he jerks away with laughter. "You're such an idiot!"

He laughs and shakes his head, curls following his movement and making it rain all around him.

"I know. Just look at the things I gotta do to get your attention, huh?"

Cold, saline water washes over her face and drops through her lashes, and Aurora takes one hand to wipe her eyes off.

"Or maybe you could've just talked to me."

He swims closer, as close as he can get while they're both kicking their legs to avoid submerging again.

"Guess I could… But what's the fun in that?"

She gasps, and splashes more water on him. "What's the fun in talking to me?!"

"Wha—No!" Harry laughs louder, jerking his face away and splashing her back. "Shit. That's not what I meant."

Aurora laughs, too.

"Mhmmmm, but it is what you said."

"Ohhh, c'mere jellybean." Harry reaches for her, pulling her arm first, then grabbing her waist and turning her around.

Aurora squeals, and laughs, and when he presses her back against his chest, she feels herself wavering in the blue ocean. Floating with unsteady movements. And just this close to sinking again. So she holds onto his forearm tightly, tilting her chin up to keep her mouth out of the water.

"Harry," she cries with laughter, automatically searching for his shoulder with the back of her head. "C'monnn."

"What?" he murmurs, holding half of her weight with one arm while moving the other and kicking his legs.

"My legs are getting tired," she murmurs as well. Feeling the way his body is moving behind her. Too fast for her to actually feel him, but too firm for her not to notice it.

"Mine aren't," he says, surely of himself. "I've got you, yeah? Just look at the—"

"Oi!" Niall shouts. "Lovebirds!"

Harry whirls towards the yacht, pulling Aurora along with him.

She gasps from the sudden movement, her legs getting tangled with his as they both keep working to stay afloat.

"This is for you!" Niall adds.

Aurora faces forward, only now aware that they've drifted to the side of the yacht and that their friends aren't on sight anymore. Niall is there, though, holding a beer while Theo throws something large and orange to the water.

It falls right under the swim platform, and Theo points at it.

"Take this!" He shouts. "Don't want anyone drowning at my engagement party."

"Thanks!" Harry shouts back, and both Theo and Niall give him a thumbs up before walking away.

Aurora blinks. Trying to process all the information.

"Can you swim there? Or want me to get it?"

"Uhm… I guess… I can swim?"

Harry chuckles. "You don't sound very sure."

"Sorry, I'm just… Confused, I think. Let's go tho, my thighs are burning."

"Ok, c'mon. I'm right behind ya if you need me."

He lets go of her waist, and Aurora takes a deep breath in, diving into the water and kicking her legs to swim towards whatever that orange thing is.

It's not far away, but it takes some effort from someone who doesn't frequently swim. When she finally reaches it, and realizes it seems to be a floating mat, Harry's hands are already on her waist, smoothly helping her climb on it before he does the same.

She crawls on the orange thick mat, exhaling what to others might sound like a heavy and annoyed grunt, but inside her it just feels like she's pushing all the exhaustion out of her body.

There's enough room to fit at least five people on that mat, so she pushes herself a little bit further, trying to reach a place that at least feels like the middle. Once she's there, she turns around and sits on her bum, then drops her weight back.

"Oh my God," Aurora drags out of her mouth, laying on her back and facing the darkening sky while her thighs prickle with soreness. She closes her eyes and places her hands on her belly, trying to catch up her breath. "That was just… Wow… Like a whole… Y'know… Like a whole workout for me..."

Harry chuckles, dropping his back right next to her. Close enough that Aurora can feel the hair on his arm brushing her own.

"It was good tho," he murmurs, turning his head to look at her. "Wasn't it?"

His gaze heats up her face, and Aurora blinks, then turns her head and looks at him, too.

Despite the steadiness of his stare, there's some insecurity on his face. Maybe it's the way he furrows his brows, or the way he seems to be biting the skin inside his cheek. Or maybe the way he so intensely waits for her to answer his simple question.

And yes, Aurora's arms are tired. And yes, Aurora didn't plan to get into the water today. And yes, her legs are sore. And yes she's still out of breath and her heart is thumping heavily.

But she can't deny how refreshing and invigorating the whole thing felt. Or how she would do it all over again if she could. Or how much she appreciates his spontaneity. And his boldness. Or how happy he makes her.

So she nods, and murmurs back to him, "Yeah… It was."

"Ok," he whispers, taking one hand to rub water out of his eye before settling into her stare again. "Good."

And just like that, it's like once again she's stuck inside a green spell, because she can't pull away from him.

Drops of water cover his face, his tanned skin glistens under what's left of the sun, and his hair is all over the place. He's breathing in and out heavily, just like her, and she can see through the corner of her eyes the way his chest moves up and down.

It's tempting, to be honest. And the idea to look down even crosses her mind, but there's one particular curl falling onto his forehead that truly gets her attention. That feels more important right now. So Aurora raises her hand, not even trying to resist the instant urge to touch him as she reaches for his face and pulls it away for him.

Harry curls his lips into a smile and closes his eyes, and Aurora's heart skips a beat.

She turns on her side, then, bending her other arm by the elbow and resting on it while she runs her fingers even further through his head. Gently combing his wet hair around his ear, moving up near his temple, and then to the top of his forehead. Curling her legs and making herself comfortable. Losing herself in time as seconds — and maybe even minutes — go by. As the sun sets around them and the sky changes its colors.

Everything's naturally quiet around them. The mat waves them softly, following the motion of the sea, and although the weather is keeping her warm, a soft breeze from the late hour runs through her body. Making her shiver, and spreading goosebumps all over her skin.

She pulls away, then, but Harry is quick to raise his own hand and grab her wrist, slowing her down. With his eyes still closed, he guides her touch and drives her to slide her palm across his cheek and towards his mouth. And she lets him, biting her lip and watching him in awe. Allowing him to move her as he pleases. Feeling the brush of his facial hair, and also the contrasting combination from the cold water and his blazing skin.

He only stops when the center of her palm meets his lips, and then he presses a long and wet kiss to it. And another one.

Aurora sighs, and drops the weight of her hand, spreading it open and placing her thumb on his nose while she strokes her other four fingers up and down his cheek.

It only lasts a moment, and then Harry finally turns on his side, too, mimicking her position and using one arm as a pillow as he keeps holding her wrist with his other hand.

"Don't stop," he murmurs.

And Aurora doesn't. She brushes his cheek, gently and steadily.

Harry breathes out, hotly and heavily into her palm, then draws gentle circles on her wrist with his thumb. Lastly, he folds his legs, and his knees bump into her. And before she knows it, he's tangling their feet together and covering her coldness with his warmth.

That's when he finally opens his eyes, going straight to her gaze.

"Is this ok?" he murmurs.

Aurora's heart thuds densely, her chest moves up and down heavily, and her stomach feels like twisting and swirling.

"Yes," she answers, not giving herself any time to overthink it as she pulls her wrist out of his hold and moves her hand along his jaw.

Harry smiles, then drops his hand between them. "Promise? Because I can pull away if you want. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

She bites the insides of her bottom lip, watching him carefully before she finds the words to speak. Focusing on how she's pretty sure she's never been so close to him. Not like this, at least. Being able to point out the smallest details on his face. Or to catch the different shades in his irises. Or even to count the hairs across his jaw.

She doesn't really know what's happening. She doesn't really know how they got there. She doesn't really know how they went from accidentally bumping into each other at the airport, to floating in the middle of the sea and being so focused on each other that they completely ignore the beautiful sight of the sun setting right in front of them.

But she knows she doesn't want him to pull away. And she knows he's the furthest from making her feel uncomfortable. And she knows she wants to see where that whole interaction is going to take them.

Saying that to him doesn't feel enough, though. Like it doesn't represent how much he's meaning to her right now and there.

So instead, she offers, "You made today a lot easier for me. Y'know that, right?"

There's a flicker of shock in his eyes, she sees it when he widens them slightly and then blinks rapidly. And she feels it when his voice falters. "I did?"

"Mhm." She nods, then drops her hand on the mat. Right next to his. "I'm just… I'm really happy we met at the airport. And that you're here now. It wouldn't've been the same without you."

Harry stares blankly at her, and then he swallows. It's clear that he doesn't know what to say, and that he wasn't expecting to hear that.

And to be honest Aurora doesn't know what to say, either. Not beyond what she's already shared, anyway.

So she waits, and waits.

Until Harry closes his eyes and sighs, and then he tilts his face to hide in his own arm and chuckles.

"Jesus," he groans, unable to hide the grin from his face. And when he looks at her, there's nothing but joy, softness and affection surrounding him. "Can't believe how good that felt."

Aurora's belly flutters, and even though she's still out of words, she feels her lips curving into a smile, too.

Harry clears his throat, then, and whilst he doesn't lift his arm from the mat, he spreads his hand open and shifts it even closer. Enough for him to stretch his pinky finger and softly brush it against hers.

Aurora holds her breath, and drifts her eyes over his face.

"I think about this a lot, y'know?" he says, changing his tone into a lower and softer one. "About you."

Oh God.

"And these past years weren't the same without you, either," he adds, never pausing the touching path of his finger. "So yeah… I'm really happy we bumped into each other today. I'm happy that we're here now."

Her heartbeat echoes from her chest to her head, and then vibrates to all over her body. Making it impossible for her to find something — anything — inside her brain to say back to him.

So she shuffles a little, lifting her head and taking her hand to her face just to scratch her nose and bring herself back down to earth. And then she lays on top of her arm again, dropping her other hand next to his and moving back into his eyes.

Once she's settled, she admits, "I don't know what to say."

He smiles and shrugs, opening and closing his hand into a fist. "It's ok… Will you let me know if I ever cross a line with you, tho? Or if I make you uncomfortable?"

"I don't think you need to worry about that."

His fingers seem to twitch next to her hand, as if he can't keep them still, and yet he keeps forcing himself to.

"I do, tho," he says, and the way he smiles doesn't reach his eyes anymore. "Will you let me know?"

"Of course."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Ok."

Aurora furrows her brows. She doesn't like that. She doesn't want him to be afraid of making her uncomfortable, because she doesn't want him holding himself back. So whatever made him suddenly doubt himself, she wants to change it. She wants to take it back.

And yet, she doesn't know how to, because she doesn't know what it was. And she doesn't really know how to ask him. Or how to bring it up.

To be fair, she doesn't even want to talk about it. She's done talking. What she wants and needs right now, it's different.

It's inevitable, then, to fully glance at him. At the few droplets still covering his tanned and inked skin. His body hair. His necklaces hanging from his chest into the mat. His defined muscles, and also the rolls on his tummy resulting from the position he's in. His still wet swimming shorts. His thighs. His knees, still touching hers. His feet, still tangled with hers.

He feels like a magnet, pulling her in even though she doesn't intend to move. Even if she knows she shouldn't move. It's like he ignites something inside her. Similarly to when he bought her that caramel coffee and memories from the past crashed against her. Making her stumble, and lose her feet, and fall apart in front of him.

However, this time she doesn't feel like breaking down. She doesn't feel like she's about to cry or embarrass herself. Because the emotions he's bringing out on her aren't bad, nor something to be ashamed of. He's taking her back to a time when, given the exact same circumstance, she wouldn't have thought twice before making a move on him.

That's probably why she ends up moving her hand to his chest and drawing his collarbone with her fingertips. Or why she picks the tag from his chest and fidgets with it, waiting for something else to happen. Waiting for him to do something next. Waiting for a sign. Something. Anything.

"It's getting dark," Harry murmurs, then clears his throat. "Wanna go back inside?"

Fuck no. If after everything that happened during the day she just goes back inside with even more questions and less answers than before, she's pretty sure she's going to combust. She'd rather know she's been wrong and misinterpreting things all along, then to go to bed wondering about it.

"Do we have to go?"

"Only if you want to."

"I don't."

Harry curls one side of his mouth up, offering her half a smile, and nods.

"Ok then."

She fidgets with the tag between her fingertips, conscious of how darkness is quickly engulfing them. And that they're still laying on a floating mat, by the yacht, in the middle of Italian seawater.

That being said, it only takes another second for tiny white lights to turn on right above them and all around the yacht. Brightening up not only their faces, but also all the water surrounding them.

Aurora narrows her eyes and blinks, then glances up at the empty swim platform. "How long do you think it'll take for them to come looking for us?"

"They won't."

She furrows her brows, then purses her lips to hold back a smile and looks at him. "You sound really sure of yourself."

He smiles wider, then. "'Cause I am. Unless something bad happens up there or we have to anchor somewhere else, they won't come here."

"Hm. And how do you know that?"

"'Cause I do."

"Harry." She rolls her eyes and chuckles. Desperate for him to give her something — anything — that will give her the confirmation she needs to move forward. "C'mon."

He chuckles softly, too, then shrugs. "Because they don't want to interrupt, that's all."

"Interrupt what?"

"Us."

"Us?"

"Mhm."

Aurora's heart comes back to life, then.

She holds her breath, and drags her eyes down to his lips, then to his chin. And then back to his eyes.

She shuffles closer, but it's so discreet and barely that she isn't even sure he'll notice. And she wants him to notice. So she moves her foot up and down. Stroking his ankle, and his shin. Up and down. Again. And again.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes out heavily, and the hot air that comes through his nose hits her face warmly and impatiently.

"What's there to interrupt, tho?" Aurora murmurs, letting go of his necklace and dropping her hand next to his.

He blinks, staring back at her before he murmurs back, "I don't know."

Aurora mimics his previous move, stretching her pinky and brushing it against his.

Harry responds by lifting his own finger and hooking it around hers. Holding her tightly and stopping her movements.

"Whatever you want," he adds.

"What about what you want?"

Harry smirks. Or smiles. Or maybe it's just a mix between both. "What about it?"

"I don't know."

Harry chuckles.

Fuck that's getting so confusing.

"Do you know what I want?" he asks.

Aurora shakes her head, then brushes her foot up and down again.

"Do you know what you want?" he tries again, albeit differently.

And this time, Aurora nods.

"And what's that?"

"That you stop confusing me and leading me on."

Harry widens his eyes, then blinks once. And twice.

"And… I also want you to finally make a move," she adds. "Like, an actual move. Something. Anything. I don't know."

There's a beat of silence.

And another one.

And then, Harry cackles.

He just turns around and bursts out laughing. Loudly and openly. Laying on his back and covering his face with both hands while laughter and more laughter breaks out from his chest.

Aurora frowns, and suddenly there are just so many things happening inside her. And they are all just happening at the same time. And it's just so much and so intense, that she isn't even sure what she's feeling anymore. What she knows, though, it's that she doesn't like that. And that it isn't fun or amusing anymore.

"Okay," Aurora says, sitting and then kneeling on the mat. Trying to balance herself while clenching her teeth. "Forget what I said."

She shuffles and turns around carefully, feeling the water under the mat but also desperate to see the yacht. Desperate to get out of there.

Harry is still laughing, beaming, when he pulls his hands from his face and looks at her.

"Oh for fucks sake just c'mere," he says, grabbing her arm and yanking her on top of him.

Aurora yelps, but doesn't fight him. And as she falls down, Harry takes his free hand to her face and cradles her cheek, then hunches forward and smashes their mouths together. Aurora whines from pure shock, feeling herself flopping into his chest until Harry spins them around and he's halfway on top of her.

He pulls away, then, slotting one leg between hers while holding his upper body on one arm.

"You're so impatient," he murmurs, looking into her eyes while he brings his free hand back to cradle her face. "Couldn't even give me a minute to react."

She frowns, aware of how her arms are squeezed in between their chests and closing her hands into fist just so she won't touch him. "Your reaction was to laugh at what I said, so yeah. I'm sorry if I didn't enjoy that."

"Wasn't laughing at what you said," he says, brushing his thumb up and down her cheek. "'M sorry. I just laugh when I'm happy, that's all."

Aurora sighs, unable to stay mad or annoyed at him, then rolls her eyes and shifts on her back, pulling her arms up and freeing them out from their chests.

"That was a shitty first kiss," she murmurs, hugging his neck and pulling him closer.

Harry snorts, then eases more of his weight into her. His bare body finally crushing her covered breasts.

"I know." Smiling, he brushes the tip of his nose up and down her other cheek, where his hand isn't already touching her. "Was afraid you'd change your mind and leave."

She takes one hand to the back of his head, twisting and twirling his curls while trying to stare at him despite them being so close to each other. "Well… Didn't leave. And didn't change my mind, so…"

He kisses her cheek, then a little bit to the side, closer to her nose. "So… Still want me to make a move?"

She nods and lifts her leg, hooking it around his thigh and moving her foot up and down. "This time do it properly, though."

Harry smirks, kissing a little bit further down, and again near the corner of her mouth.

"'Mkay," he murmurs, and moves to the other corner of her mouth, slightly brushing their lips on his way there. "I'll try my best."

He slides his hand down, from her cheek to her jaw, then brushes his thumb from side to side at the same time he presses another kiss to her skin. Aurora sighs and closes her eyes, making her hands comfortable in between his curls while she waits for him to finally fully kiss her mouth. Except when he does, he does it softly and barely. A feather-touch that has her puckering her lips and waiting for more.

"God you're so pretty," he whispers, almost like a secret, then pecks her lips again with the same lightness. Caressing her mouth way more than kissing it. "Can't believe this is happening."

He slides his hand down from her face to her shoulder, then through her side. Squeezing her waist while pressing another feathery kiss, and another one. Making her body tingle and shiver. Just like the Italian summer breeze did to her earlier that day.

"Do you have any idea how long I waited for this?" he asks, keeping his mouth close enough that their lips brush against hers as he speaks. Pressing their mouths together just for a gentle second, then pulling away and leaving her longing for more. "How many times I thought about it?"

Aurora is kind of dizzy, kind of woozy, but his revelation feels too important to ignore. So she opens her eyes, and slides her hands from the back of his head to his cheeks. Guiding him to look at her. Demanding his full attention. "What?"

Harry blinks, the green of his eyes burying into her soul even in the darkness.

"I just…" He squeezes her side, a little bit tighter this time. As if his words were coming out of his fingertips, instead of his mouth. "Fuck I can't believe 'm about to do this."

He squeezes her again and leans in, then finally fully kisses her. Capturing her lips and not waiting any other second before sneaking his tongue into her mouth. Dragging his hand down to her thigh, then back to her hips, then around her back. Going from gentle to desperate in a blink of an eye. As if he suddenly opened the gates to a lot of piled up needs.

Yes. Fucking finally.

Aurora shuts her eyes closed and whines, or maybe it's just a moan. She doesn't know. It just melts out of her throat while she goes numb and dizzy into the kiss. Instinctively throwing her arms back around his neck and tasting his tongue with her own and then pulling him closer, and closer, and closer. Every inch of him. From his head, to his chest, to his leg locked inside her own.

She never knew she would be so relieved to kiss him. Or that her body would just restore to life as soon as she tasted her lips. Or that everything inside her would just buzz and itch for him.

And they're both just so, so desperate. Squeezing here, pulling there. Tilting heads to one side, and to the other. Licking tongues. Sucking lips. Sighing into each other's mouths. Trying to grab more, and more, and more.

Always more.

"Fucking hell," he mumbles, then tilts his head to the other side and leans in for another wet, sloppy, and delicious kiss.

Aurora moans, sweetly and weakly. Almost like she's about to beg for him. And then she drags her hands up through the back of his head and threads her fingers around his curls, holding tightly onto him while Harry kisses the hell out of her. While he drifts his short nails from her back to her ass, then stops where the swimsuit doesn't cover her skin and strokes her up and down. While he squeezes her. And then while he sneaks his hand under the fabric and fills his hand with her cheek, then squeezes her again. Harshly — so harshly and so wildly that his own fingers burn in pain.

Aurora gasps and jolts closer, and Harry deepens even more to kiss her even more. And more. And more.

Always so much fucking more. And it's just so, so good.

Harry moves from her ass to her thigh, then grips her flesh tightly before encouraging her to properly hook her leg around him. And she does it. Happily. Eagerly. Pressing her heel on his back and pushing him closer at the same time she tugs his curls and sighs into the kiss.

He lays on top of her, settling between her legs while holding his weight on one elbow and gripping the back of her thigh. Digging his fingertips into her as he breaks the kiss and pulls away, opening his eyes to look at her.

He presses himself between her legs, then, and Aurora loses what's left of her mind. Because although he isn't fully hard yet, it's clear he's getting there. Firm and heavy between her legs. Pressing into her. Forcing into her.

"Oh my God," Aurora breathes out, widening her eyes as she opens them and stares at him.

Harry pants.

Aurora pants.

And they both just look at each other. They look, and they look. Meanwhile trying to catch up with their breaths. Meanwhile trying to slow down. Meanwhile trying to control themselves.

And then Harry moves up and down, and she gasps. Then he rolls again, and again, and again.

She squeezes her eyes shut while arching her back and hooking both legs around his waist. And she's painfully conscious of how wet and thirsty her body is between her legs.

"Holy fuck," Harry murmurs, then places both elbows on each side of her face. "Auri?"

"Hm?"

Fuck he feels so fucking good.

"You need… You need to stop me."

She shakes her head and opens her eyes, then brings her hands to cradle his cheeks. "No. Why?"

He kisses her, and he kisses her. And he kisses her. And he fucking kisses her. So, so well.

"Because I'm about to get to a point where I won't be able to stop anymore."

"Then don't."

Harry chuckles, and she feels his pain in his voice, and also his reluctance when he closes his eyes and has to force himself to stop rolling up and down against her desperate center.

"Not here," he breathes out, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly that it makes her uncomfortable for him. "Not like this."

She hates it, but she knows he's right. So she licks her lips, and brushes her thumbs up and down his cheeks, then unhooks her legs from around his waist. "We'll stop, then."

"It's not that I don't want to," he murmurs, dropping his weight on top of her and pressing their foreheads together.

"I know. I can feel that."

Harry chuckles, then kisses her cheek, and the corner of her mouth. And then, as desperately and urgently as he started, he finds a way to subtly and delicately kiss her again. Slowing them down. Tasting her mouth with more affection, with more time, with more intention. Actually savoring her lips, and actually caressing her skin. Dropping his hand back down to her ass and covering her properly again, then sliding it all up through her side.

Aurora finds herself happily following his new pace. Threading her fingers through his curls and stroking his scalp, then giving little nibbles to his lips, and cute, sweet licks to his tongue.

He hums, and cools off. Losing his strength and dropping his weight to the side. More and more. Until he's fully turning on his back, and pulling her along with him.

And Aurora moves, turning and holding herself on one elbow while she keeps her other hand on his face. Holding, brushing, caring for him. And when she pulls away, the loud mwah of their lips breaking apart seems to reverberate through both of them, and also through the ocean.

They both blink, and whilst Aurora rests her hand on his bare chest, Harry takes his own to her face, pulling her hair behind her ear before brushing his thumb up and down her cheek.

"Hi," he whispers, tilting his head slightly to the side just to stare straight into her eyes.

"Hi," she whispers back, finding the string of his necklace and grabbing it between her fingertips.

The bright lights from the yacht reflect on the beautiful green of his eyes. Besides that, though, everything about Harry looks like a complete mess.

But a hot mess, still. Because he looks like a mess that was made by her. He looks like she kissed him so hard that she left his lips swollen. Like she tugged his hair so harshly that she left him completely disheveled. And like she grabbed him so tightly that she left tiny spots all over his cheeks.

Does she look like that, too?

Like he just kissed the soul out of her?

And then brought her back to life?

"How was that for a move, huh?"

Aurora rolls her eyes, but then drops her forehead to his shoulder and laughs.

Harry smiles, sliding his hand to the back of her head and kissing her temple. Once, and twice. "Is it ok that I'm already thinking about doing this again?"

She takes a moment, but ends up holding herself up and looking at him. "Is it okay that I wish we didn't have to stop and go back to our friends right now?"

He slides his hand back to her face, then brushes his thumb up and down her cheek. "Thank God 's not just me."

He leans in, then, pecking her lips just once. Softly and shortly. Puffy lips sweetly puckering against hers and leaving her craving for more.

Aurora smiles, and fidgets with the string between her fingers.

Even the mat underneath them seems to wake up, because it's suddenly waving their bodies again.

(Although Aurora it's pretty sure it never stopped moving, she just stopped paying attention to it.)

"Can we go somewhere more comfortable next time, tho?" she asks, and Harry laughs.

"Yeah… We can go wherever you want, Auri. Whenever you want. I don't care, as long as I get to be there, too. As long as I get to be there with you."

Hi! If you've made it here, thank you for reading. You have absolutely no idea how much it means to me.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #dont really know why i even tag anymore tbh

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wizardfvcker · 1 year

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feeling righteous fury every time i think about people saying dankovsky is selfish or uncaring for trying to develop a vaccine because that means he doesn’t care for the people who are suffering. hey girl that’s not how fighting any disease works. he’s doing what’s suited to his strengths and is actually invaluable work for people who would otherwise get sick. what is anyone fucking talking about

#.txt #SORRY NOT TO REHASH PATHO DISCOURSE IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2023 #im just thinking about how skewed people's perception of dankovsky is. and like he can suck but he is not unfeeling or uncaring #i keep thinking about that one quote from the devs for the marble nest where they're like the bachelor is too obsessed w his fight against #death to care about the people sufferinfg around him #and im just like. did yall play your own game #SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CAGE CAN ANYONE HEAR ME. DANIIL TRIED SO HARD TO HELP AND LITERALLY NONE OF IT FURTHERED HIS OWN GOALS #how it all shakes out in the end is a different story but also like. you understand how he gets there even if its horrible #(in classic that is)#wish i was better at words but you get it #'you only care for the living/healthy and not the dying' THATS ALSO GOOD?? ACTUALLY??????#i do also genuinely feel that the devs do not understand their own character they made because every time i see a quote from them about him #theyre like oooo this totally selfish uncaring asshole #and like besties. you all made a sympathetic caring character actually. you did

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kashilascorner · 2 years

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my conclusion after finishing the witcher season 2 is that they had a very clear storyline which is overall ok but the writing (especially on an episode basis) is weak at best

#props to the actors for working with what they had (esp yennefer fringila and triss)#yennefe's arc was..... i mean i know plenty of ppl don't like her s1 arc because of the whole motherhood thing #but i actually liked how it was focused and that it wasn't so much about motherhood itself but more about body autonomy #and the desperatr need of having someone to unconditionally love you and depend on you (at least that's how i saw it)#and her arc here had sooooo much potential but ultimately it was botchy in it's development #also jaskier. a beloved character. much needed comic relief but did nothing after geralt saved him #don't get me started on how fringila was far too naive at first and the moment she snaps out of it it's shown during a murderous spree #only to have her character dragged down AGAIN for being too naive. similar butchering to what happened to cahir's character in the end #only it's far far worse with fringila and hmmm cannot shake the feeling it's uh. racist writing actually!#idk. the dialogues weren't too good. ciri went through some good character development but she was very much the only one to do so #i mean geralt kinda did too but he's so stiff....... also tons of witchers around and they were all pretty useless for writing's sake #vesemir and geralt's relationship was good but felt underdeveloped. ciri and yen was good but rushed... ah #speciaf effects costumes sets & scenery lighting (the lighting!!!) were all very good #i think in the more technical department everything was pretty solid. can't judge the sound really because in dub it's a bit different #anyways at least i got to see 8 hours of very pretty ppl on my screen #laura watches stuff #also! you know those joke posts going around abt how shows actually need more s*x? yeah? well this is one of them lol #spicing it up a bit was not difficult wouldn't necessarily get in the way of the story and would actually help disipate the #storytelling tension given there is barely any comic relief at all for the most part (or any relief at all lmao all the calming acenes are #repetitive pseudo deep conversations between two characters lmao)

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yeonzzzn · 2 months

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🖤won’t give up on us: sim jaeyun

part three of the off limits trilogy

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 17.1k

synopsis: your relationship with jake has been better than ever. almost two years have passed since moving in with your brother, heeseung, sunghoon and jake, what’s even better is everyone finally graduated college. but with the new freedom of your adult life, other challenges make their way into your relationship.

genre: established relationship, older brother’s best friend!au, smut, fluff

warnings: swearing, multiple unprotective sex scenes, breeding kink, hair pulling, oral (m. & f. receiving), fingering, cum eating, alcohol, masturbating, some tags will be hidden due to not spoiling the story, MINORS DNI. lmk if I missed anything ♡

✰ this is part three to this trilogy, please see part one and two under the title before reading this one. ✰

˗ˏˋseries spotify playlist´ˎ˗

In the blink of an eye, almost two years have flown by.

Your relationship with Jake was now stronger, harder to penetrate or break. You still had fights, but never again like what happened when you broke up.

You, yourself even felt stronger coming out of that dark place you were in. Shaping a better heart that you were able to hand to Jake. And he did the same for you.

Everything on campus was different now. You and Jake both had eyes on you, yes. But Stella and her bitch squad never once spoke to you or even Jake again. You’ve walked past them on campus, she’ll give you a dirty look and you’ll respond with your middle finger.

Jake even came around with Shotaro, getting to know him better, and to his surprise, was trying to hang out with him more than you.

But one by one, everyone finally graduated college, leaving your graduation in two weeks.

Except you didn’t think you’d make it to graduation.

You lay on the couch in the living room, coughing up your lungs and sweat rolling down every inch of your body. How could you have gotten sick two weeks before graduation?

“I’m actually going to die,” you mumbled.

Your brother sat on the floor beside your head, dabbing a cool wet washcloth on your forehead, a mask covering his face. With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, he responded, “You have a terrible case of the flu, you aren’t dying.”

The three stooges stood at the end of the couch, masks also on their faces as they watched Jay take care of you.

“Doctor said you’ll be better next week, ya?” Jake said, reaching down and massaging your legs through the blanket covering your body, “Just continue taking your meds and you’ll be better soon.”

You knew they were all right, but you chose to be dramatic anyway, “I’m dying!”

Jay covered your face with the cool washcloth, “Shut up, Stinks.”

Usually, you’d fight him on the nickname, but right now all you wanted was rest.

Heeseung and Sunghoon took every opportunity to tease you. Heeseung would walk into the living room with a can of Febreze, spraying it as he walked past you to get to the kitchen. Sunghoon would walk by holding his index fingers into an X. You’d just respond either with your middle finger in the air or sitting up and fake coughing at them, making the boys scramble away in a hurried fashion.

But as they all said you recovered just in time to finish up the rest of your classes for the semester and walk the stage to get your diploma.

Jake has never looked more proud in his life watching as you crossed that stage and officially started the next chapter in your life. He had actual tears streaming down his face.

Jay was even worse of a mess. Has snot rolling out his nose and ugly crying and everything.

“Jongseong,” you snorted at seeing the state your older brother was in, embracing him into a tight hug as he continued to cry into your shoulder.

“You’re all grown up, I can’t believe it. I remember when you were just a baby,”

Your father forced Jay off you, so he and your mother could also embrace you in a hug.

Heeseung and Sunghoon were next in line for a hug, and then there was Jake for last.

You stared into his eyes, smiling so wide as he pulled you into a kiss, “I am so proud of you, my love.”

“It’s all because of you,” which is true. If it weren’t for Jake or even your brother, you wouldn’t have moved in with them and graduated with their help. You were thankful for all four boys.

Shotaro even made his way through the crowd to pull you into a hug, “You killed it, princess!”

At one point, your eyes would drift off to Jake to see him cringe at the nickname Shotaro has given you, but over the last few years, it doesn’t bother him, Jake just stands there with his puppy dog eyes and smile, joining the hug with you and your best friend, “She did! Didn’t she!!” Jake said, nuzzling his head between you and Shotaro, “Our girl did so well!!”

You blushed at all the compliments and love you were getting, you’d be a liar if you said you hated it all.

Jay threw a party for you that night. Granted it was just the five of you, along with Taro and Sunghcan, but it still felt great to be surrounded by the people you loved the most.

Everyone sat in the kitchen and living room, talking and drinking away. Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to him. His eyes traced down the side of your face and down to his necklace that even after all these years still stayed wrapped around your neck. His eyes moved down to your breasts and the way they peeked out over the drop of the dress you wore for your graduation.

Jake felt his pants tighten, his mind wandering to the thoughts of your tits in his hands, tongue shoved down your throat and dick pushing in and out of you. His hand gripped the beer can, biting his lower lip.

Normally, Jake would wait to dick you down once company has left, but since everyone is drunk and in no way going home tonight…

Fuck it.

“Hey,” he whispered in your ear so seductively that it sent chills down your spine. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was Jake wanted. With the way his lips brushed your ear and hand tightened at your waist. It made you soaked on the spot.

You leaned into him, “Hmm?”

He softly chuckled, “You look so sexy right now,”

Your eyes wander around to your brother and then your friends, seeing them all too interested in whatever card game some of them were playing at the table and whatever game the rest were playing on the Nintendo Switch. No one would even realize you’d two be gone. The music was playing loud enough in the apartment that they wouldn’t be able to hear anything anyway. They were too drunk to realize anything really.

You shifted, pressing your body to his, feeling his cock hard against your stomach, your breast pressing to his chest, making him hiss, mouth practically drooling over you.

“Keep acting up and I’ll press that pretty face of yours into the pillows in our bed.”

You stood on your tip toes and gave him a quick kiss, “What else would you do to me? Hmm?”

Jake’s head was spinning. Oh, the things he wanted to do to you. The way he’d do them. Fuck.

He took the beer can from your hands, setting it down on the counter beside his, lips touching your ear again, “I’d have you screaming my name while I fuck that sweet cunt of yours until I’m spilling into you.”

It’s all you had to hear before taking his hand and leading him to your shared bedroom, Jake closing and locking the door behind you.

You didn’t even have time to turn around, have time to kiss him let alone touch him. Jake threw you into the bed face first, one hand on the back of your neck and he pushed your face deeper into your pillows.

Your pussy was clenching already, feeling your slit pooling in your panties. Hands gripping the bedsheets. You turned your head slightly, looking Jake in the eyes, seeing nothing but desperation behind them, so lust-filled.

Jake’s cock was twitching against his pants, so angry and begging to be set free. With his free hand, he lifted your hips up higher, arching your back.

“You look so pretty like this,” he whispered, sliding his hand from your neck down your back and resting at your hips with his other hand, “Don’t move pretty, be a good girl for me, ya?”

You nodded, biting your lips. You wanted to beg him, wanting to feel his hands everywhere and his dick deep inside you. But with the way he was right now, you knew Jake would either take his time and enjoy the way you were in front of him, or get right to fucking into you.

Jake lifted your dress up and over your ass, bunching it at your hips, releasing a hiss, “Fuck YN,” he groaned, seeing how soaked your panties already were, “Want my cock that badly?”

You nodded again, “Jakey please,” you wiggled your hips, Jake’s hands immediately gripping your ass and squeezing tightly.

“I said don’t move,” he growled.

You stayed still, listening to the sound of his shirt, jeans, and boxers hitting the floor. Jake glances down at his angry cock, pulsing and red. His precum dripped down the side of the tip, aching to find its home inside your pussy.

He pulled your panties down, letting out a “Fuck,” at seeing your juices creating a string connecting to your paints, “You’re so fucking wet for me baby,” He lifted your legs one by one to pull the laced fabric off you, flinging it somewhere into the abyss of the room, then rolling your dress completely off your body, shoving your face back into the pillows.

Seeing you this wet drove him insane. Watching your cunt clench around nothing, waiting so patiently for him to fill you up.

Jake shoved two fingers inside you, ears ringing from the pleasured moans that left your mouth, scooping your wetness from you and bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it up and down his shaft. Jake suppressed the moan he wanted to let out as he pumped himself a couple of times, then adjusted himself up to your pussy, wasting no more time and shoving inside.

Your jaw went slack as he filled you up, his hand pushing your face even further into the pillows, the fabric now in your mouth.

Jake fucked into you hard, his hips snapping back and forth as if his life depended on it. Fingers gripping your hips tightly, surely to leave bruises in the morning.

“Fuck, baby,” he finally moaned out, “You feel so fucking good. Fuck,”

You were screaming into the pillows from the pleasure, chanting his name with each thrust. Your head was spinning, seeing stars.

“You know how proud I am of you baby?” he said, fingers now wrapping in your hair, pulling you up, his chest now pressed to your back, “You’re the smartest person I know. So proud. You deserve this dick, don’t you baby?”

You nodded, “Fuck yes Jaeyun and you’re being such a good boy giving it to me like this.”

Jake fucked into you harder, “Yeah? I’m your good boy huh? Dicking you down so hard and fast, being so good taking me like this.”

You reached up behind you, hands finding their way into Jake’s hair and pulling, “Fuck baby,” he practically screamed, “I’m going cum so hard if you keep it up,”

And you did, tangling your fingers even more into his hair as you pulled with all your might, Jake’s thrusts getting sloppier.

“No way I’m cumming before you,” he growled into your ear, his hand at your hip sliding between your legs, fastly circling his fingers on your clit, “Cum for me first baby, then I’ll breed this sweet cunt.”

You moaned out his name, pulling even harder at his hair.

You and Jake were filled with so much pleasure, both growing more sensitive at each other's touches. It took everything in Jake to not cum right here right now, using every bit of willpower he had to hold back from painting your walls with his seed.

But Jake couldn’t hold on much longer, his will slipping. But you beat him to it, your climax rushing you so fast as you came around his dick, “Oh fuck,” he moaned, “M’cumming baby, going to breed you, fuck, fuck. Cumming, I’m cumming.”

His hot cum filled you, his hips snapping into place against your ass, hands pulling you down onto him, making sure every ounce of cum spilled into you.

Both your bodies shaking, Jake laid you down on the bed, his body gently laying on top of you, dick still inside.

He rubbed his thumb against your jaw, placing soft kisses on your neck, “I love you. Fuck I love you so much.”

You tilted your head, catching his lips with yours, “I love you so much too my sweet, sweet Jake.”

—

You leaned your elbows to the table, fingers rubbing your temples. The room felt like it was spinning and that you were about to puke up your lunch and coffee that Shotaro just bought you.

“YN? Princess?” he called you by your nickname, snapping his fingers in front of your face until you looked up at him, “Everything okay?”

You just shook your head, “I feel like death.”

Taro leaned back into his chair, taking a sip of his coffee, “You look like death too.”

You roll your eyes, “Jeez, thanks Taro.”

Shotaro just chuckled, the jazz music playing in the background of the coffee shop you frequent was soothing and relaxing. How could you feel like shit when this amazing music is filling your ears?

You dropped your face into your palms, “I can’t really be getting sick again.”

Shotaro started thinking, “Didn’t you have the flu last time?” you nodded, “Did you change out your toothbrush and get more toothpaste? Did Jake change out all that as well? What about Hee, Hoon, and Jay?”

That was way too many questions for your brain to process, but you continued to nod anyway, “Yes to all that. Jay made sure everyone changed out everything and washed every blanket and sheets in the apartment.”

“Do all five of you really just share food and drinks like that?”

You shrug, “I’m siblings with one, grew up with them all and dating one of them, and been living with them for almost two years. I don’t think there is such a thing as not sharing in that apartment.”

Taro just nodded, “And I know they didn’t get sick after you did.”

You just nod again, too winded to even speak.

Shotaro just kept running through everything in his head, the people who’ve been sick after or before you were before graduation. Hell, even Shotaro changed out toothbrush and toothpaste after he found out you had the flu. He wasn’t taking chances and you’ve eaten after each other a couple of times.

But the more Taro tried to wrap his mind around it the more it hurt his brain, his own headache forming. The only thing he can see how you got sick is from passing some random stranger who was sick or…

Wait.

“When was the last time you had sex with Jake?”

You glance up at your best friend, narrowing your eyes, “You need to be more specific, we have sex all the time.”

Taro bit down every ounce of nerves he had and begged you with his eyes to forgive the questions he was about to ask, “I mean, when was the last time he…you know…”

You raised a brow, “Every time? I am on the pill,” you just stared at your best friend, “Taro what are you getting at?”

He started playing the timeline in his head, from the moment you got sick with the flu, to graduation, and to now. If what he’s thinking is true…then.

“It’s been about, what? six-seven weeks since you’ve graduated?” You nod, “Did you and Jake have sex that night?”

You nod again but this time more confused and getting kinda angry that Shotaro was putting his nose into your sex life, “Taro, what does my sex life with Jake have any—“

And then it hit you.

“It would make sense…” Taro whispered.

“But it can’t be?” you pull your hair back out of your face, eyes glued to your iced coffee on the table, watching as the ice floated more to the top.

“YN, last question,” he took a deep breath, “What medication did they put you on for the flu? And does it affect taking birth control?”

You just stared up at him. Every piece of the puzzle falls into place.

The medication the doctors gave you to treat your flu would have countered your birth control pill, and since you were sick and obviously not having sex you skipped the pills until you took the last bit of medicine to treat the flu before taking them again. And the last day of your medicine for the flu was…two days after you graduated.

Your eyes widened, “Holy shit.”

Shotaro sighed, “Yeah, holy shit,” and took another sip of his coffee, “You could be pregnant.”

—

Jake sat at his work desk, eyes reading over the article on the new software his company was planning on launching within the next couple of months. His boss leaves Jake to take on the project alone to fix all the major issues with it.

He leans back into his chair, thumbs rubbing over his eyes from staring at the computer screen for too long.

Why did he choose software development out of everything he could have when it came to his major? Guess it’s too late now to change it.

Jake can’t complain though, he makes BANK and the job comes so easy to him too. Plus he works the typical nine-five Monday-Thursday having Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off to do whatever he wants. Plus his co-workers and boss are great people. He has it made here.

Jake’s mind gets taken off the article by his phone vibrating in multiple texts.

Jay: did you piss off my sister? Jay: because she just busted down the apartment door before storming off into your bedroom, paced around for like ten minutes before leaving the apartment again.

Jake sighed, rubbing his eyes again.

Jake: not that I know of… Jake: I haven’t spoken to her since this morning when I left for work. She was supposed to be with Taro today Jay: She just came back, seemed calmer this time tho. She has a grocery bag, guess she needed snacks?

Jake tossed his phone onto the desk, going back to the article. As much as he loves you and his best friend, whatever attitude problem you have right now, Jay could deal with or he would deal with when he gets back home. Jake tried to think of anything he could have done to upset you, but not thinking of a single thing.

Jay: she’s pacing again. Jay: well now she locked herself up in the bathroom. Jake: dude, she’s your little sister. deal with it? Jay: your girlfriend tho buddy. you deal with it. Jake: …I am working. Jay: I’ve never seen her act like this before. something is wrong.

Jake looked at the time, he was off in an hour. He texted Jay back saying he’ll talk to you once he’s home and left it at that. Jake had half a mind to call Shotaro and bug him about what happened. You seemed fine earlier besides a small headache.

The clock ticked and chimed once it hit four o’clock, Jake jumped from his seat after shutting his PC down and practically skipping out of the building.

He couldn’t make it home fast enough, his mind was only on you and if you were okay. He called Jay the minute he got off work for an update and he said you were still locked up in the bathroom. Jake was worried.

He made his way up the steps to the apartment, fumbling around with his keys to unlock the door. Jay sat in the living room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands, a horror movie on the TV.

“Is she still in the bathroom?” Jake mouthed to his friend, earning a nod from him.

Jake walked up to the door, knocking softly, “Baby?” he called for you, trying to turn the knob to find it locked, “YN, sweetheart, baby what’s wrong? Unlock the door please.”

After a sigh on the other side, you unlock the door and slightly open it and pull him in, then shut the door behind him.

Jake’s hands were on you immediately, checking if you had a fever, runny nose, everything.

“Hey,” he whispered, cupping your face with his hands at the look of shock, “What happened?”

The first thing he assumed was Shotaro fucked up somehow. A pity really if that’s the case, Jake was just starting to like him.

You look up at your boyfriend, debating where to start.

“Remember when I got sick with the flu?”

Jake nodded, rubbing his thumbs against your jawline, “How could I forget? Your brother went all clean freak on us and made us wash everything and replace everything.”

“Do you remember the medication I was on?”

Jake thought for a second, then nodded, “Yeah? Baby that was weeks ago.”

“I had to stop taking my birth control because of it…”

Jake looked at you in confusion, “I know? It would have canceled it out anyway. YN, stop beating around the bush, what happened?”

Your eyes dart to the sink and Jake follows your gaze seeing the grocery bag, and five boxes of pregnancy tests sitting around the counter.

Jake looked at the boxes, then back at you, then back at the boxes, “I’m confused?”

You roll your eyes, “Jake, I was off my birth control for the entire time I took my flu medication. And didn’t get back on it until the last pill of the medicine was gone, which was two days after graduation.”

He just raises a brow at you, waiting for you to continue.

“We had sex the night I graduated when I was still off my birth control.”

Those words. Those exact words were all it took for Jake to swallow and feel how dry his throat had become.

“Are you sure?”

You looked back down to the boxes, “I pissed on every single stick in those boxes, and every single one of them came back positive.”

You had to be honest, you were scared to tell Jake. The two of you have always been so careful when it comes to sex. Always have condoms on standby just in case. You always made sure to take your birth control pill on time every single day. And well shit, you both even still carried around Plan B’s as a backup.

Jake was shaking and his heart was racing, “You’re pregnant?” you nod, waiting for him to get upset. Waiting for him to sink down onto the floor and laugh it off that you’re lying, to call your bluff. But he didn’t, his eyes softened, and the corners of his lips curled, “I’m going to be a daddy?”

You nodded again, your lips also moving into a smile, “You’re going to be a daddy, Jake.”

He couldn’t stop the smile that grew. Like wow, you’re pregnant? He’s going to be a father? You’re going to be a mother? Jake will get to raise a baby with you. Get to grow this little family even more.

Jake pulled you into a kiss, arms wrapping tightly around you, “I love you so much,” he whispered between kisses, “I can’t believe it.”

“Well you better believe it,” you kissed him again, “And I love you so much too.”

Jake sank down to his knees, placing his hands on your waist and kissing all over your tummy, “I am so happy right now.”

Before you could respond, the bathroom door opened, “Hey I heard laughing, is everything okay now?”

You stared wide eyed at your brother as he looked down at Jake on his knees. You could see the gears turning in your brother's brain, thinking he walked into a sexual act about to happen.

He turned to leave, opening his mouth to make a smart retort when he saw the boxes in the sink. Jay looked at every single one before going back to you, down at Jake, back to the boxes…then the light bulb lit up above his head, face now tensed as he looked at you, then at Jake again. Jake awkwardly smiled up at your brother.

“You got to be fucking joking.” was all your brother said.

—

You and Jake sat on the couch, arms crossed as you both stared up at your brother pacing back and forth in the living room.

“You’re going to cause a draft,” Jake finally said, trying hard to not laugh, but stopping his smile when Jay stopped pacing and looked at him.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around this,” Jay said, rubbing his temples as if he had the worst headache.

You stare down at the boxes that now sit on the coffee table. Jay looked at every single piss stick in those boxes more than five times each as if the answer on it would change. You found it funny, hilarious even. Jay was acting as if he were the one growing a human life.

Jake sat forward, narrowing his eyes in confusion, “Brother what is there to wrap your head around? She’s pregnant.”

Jay slid his hands down his face, the stress showing on his face as he glared at your boyfriend, your happy mood faltered. You could read him like a book, “Jay, what’s really going on?”

Your brother let out a sigh before dropping his hands at his side, “I’m going to be an uncle?” he chuckled, his hands finding their way back to his face and then in his hair, “Like wow, my baby sister is pregnant with my best friend. I’m going to be an uncle…” Jay repeated those words a few more times before the worried look turned into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him make, “I’m going to be a fucking uncle!!”

You smiled as wide as he did, standing from the couch and rushing to your brother and hugging him. Jay squeezed you so tight, rocking you back and forth as his laughter filled your ears, “Seongie, you’re literally going to be the best uncle ever.”

“Fuck yeah I am,” he said, laughing even more, then turning to look at Jake, “You going to just sit on the couch? Get your ass up and join this family hug.”

Family. Jay was officially his family. The term brother would mean more now than just being super close. Jay will be the uncle to his child. The big family Jake always wanted was finally within his reach and who would have guessed it would be with the people who were his second family growing up.

Jake bounced from the couch, embracing you and Jay in his arms, joining the laughter that filled the apartment and still laughing even after you three pulled away.

“God, I can’t believe you let him get you pregnant stinks,” Jay teased, flicking your forehead with his fingers.

“It was an accident!” Jake defended himself, “Not my fault your sister is like a sex goddess.”

“Dude,” Jay rolled his eyes, “That’s my sister I don’t want to hear that,” Jake just smiled at him, already loving the way he was going to tease the hell out of Jay through this pregnancy, “Anyways, when did this happen?”

Jake was the confused one now. Jay literally was just on his ass about speaking about his sex life with his little sister, but now he’s asking when it happened?

“Are you really asking me when I boned your sister that impregnated her?”

Jay shrugged his shoulders, “Well when you say it like that…”

You just looked at Jake, trying to not laugh at the obvious embarrassment on his face. Usually, the roles are reversed, but guess Jay pulled a fast one on him this time.

“It was my graduation night,” you said for Jake, “Would you like to know the details since you want to be so nosey?”

“God no shut up!” your brother scoffed, “I didn’t actually want to know I just wanted to tease Jake. Jesus fucking Christ.”

Jake awkwardly chuckled with a shake of his head, “Now we just have to tell Heeseung, Sunghoon, Shotaro, my brother, and both our parents.”

“Taro already knows.”

Jake raised a brow at you, “He knew before me? Before Jay?”

You just shrugged, “Taro was the one who suggested I might be pregnant. I was feeling sick earlier this morning, it was the only logical explanation.”

That…makes a lot of sense.

And as if speaking of the devils manifested them into existence, Heeseung and Sunghoon arrived back at the apartment, snapping at each other over the flavor of pop tarts and which one was better. Both their hands were filled with groceries.

“Oh!” Heeseung scoffed, “Nice to know you three were home and ignoring your cell phones! Would have been nice to get some help.”

Sunghoon nodded with a click of his tongue, “Yeah, would it have helped to not have been so lazy?”

You crossed your arms, eyes darting between the two of them. You glanced down at the coffee table with the pregnant test boxes, and stepped off to the side giving them both a better view, “We were kinda busy with something important.”

Sunghoon noticed what the boxes were immediately, his eyes widening and mouth slightly open.

Heeseung tossed the bags of groceries into the solo recliner chair and picked up one of the boxes, “What could have been so important you’d ignore your best friends…for…”

Heeseung looked over the box for a couple seconds before tearing it open and taking the test out (obviously holding the end you didn’t piss on), eyes widening at the positive marks.

“You’re pregnant?!” Heeseung shouted, his voice filled with so much excitement as he looked up at you, eyes sparkling with the happiness he was feeling for you and Jake.

You smiled, giving him a nod, “Yeah, I’m pregnant!”

“Holy fucking shit!” Heeseung shouted, tossing the stick and box back onto the coffee table and pulling you into a hug, “Congratulations stinks!”

Sunghoon was right beside you, dropping the groceries to the floor and pulling you into him, “You’re growing up so fast!”

“Oh, fuck off!” you pinched his bicep, and all Sunghoon could do was laugh.

“I am so happy for you, YN,” he said, eyes darting over to Jay, “You’re going to be an uncle my dude!!”

“I know!” Jay shouted with the same excitement as his friends, “I mean, you two will be uncles too, since you’re practically family.”

Heeseung’s jaw dropped to the floor, “I’d be Uncle Hee!!”

Jake watched as the most important people in his life laughed, shouted, cried out of pure happiness, and hugged each other. His heart was so full and so warm. He had the best non-biological brothers surrounding him. Had the best girlfriend who was now carrying his child. Had a good ass job that helped pay the bills and help support you and the baby. What more could he ask for?

Jake continued to watch his family, picturing a miniature you/him running around the apartment. Picturing Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon being the best uncles in the world as they play, laugh, love, and care for his future child.

That thought alone also sunk Jake’s heart, “Guys,” he said, everyone turning and looking at him. Jake had the realization that the apartment was made to fit four people. There are five people standing in this living room and You had a baby on the way, “This place is about to get a lot more crowded.”

—

You lay on the couch, two fingers pressed into your cunt. Your other hand slid underneath your shirt, squeezing your breast and twisting your nipple between your thumb and index fingers.

Nobody else was home, all four boys were at work and Shotaro couldn’t hang out with you.

What better way to pass the time than to touch yourself? You weren’t fortunate enough to have gotten a job after graduating and now that you were pregnant, Jay and especially Jake, were against you getting a job right now.

“You’re pregnant, you don’t need to work right now,” Jay said, taking your laptop from your hands to keep from applying to any more jobs.

“I’m pregnant, not disabled!” You snapped, “Let me do something besides sit at the apartment all day.”

“Yeah, and if you get a job you’ll be on pregnancy leave shortly after getting it. Might as well just wait.” Jay retorted back.

“Baby,” Jake said, kneeling down beside you, his hand resting on your belly, “You’re already doing enough by growing life inside of you. Please just wait until after you have the baby.”

You looked to Heeseung and Sunghoon for support, they just shook their heads, hands raised up, “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” was all Heeseung could say, with a small snicker of laughter from Sunghoon.

Traitors.

You glanced down at your belly, baby bump now fully on display as the little speck of life grew more and more every day.

You were at the end of the first trimester and the beginning of your second trimester, your baby bump was obvious that you were pregnant, but with your clothes, no one would ever know unless you told them. The morning sickness came and went as it pleased, your weird food cravings kicked in a bit, and all four boys started being more careful around you. Helping you sit down and stand up as if you all of a sudden couldn’t do that on your own, always grabbing things for you instead of you getting it yourself. You weren’t that far along in the pregnancy, you didn’t need that kind of help right now but took the help anyway. You knew you couldn’t get out of it.

You flung your head back onto the pillow, pumping your fingers faster and squeezing your breast tighter.

You breathed in harder, arching your back at the pleasure. You glanced at the clock on the wall, Jake should be coming home for lunch at any minute, bringing the takeout you requested as your food craving of the day.

But you got horny while waiting for him, and now here you are, waiting for him to come home to help finish you off and then eat your lunch.

The sound of the keys sliding into the lock made you jolt, your cunt clenching tightly against your fingers, not being able to wait any longer, you needed Jake.

“Hey baby,” Jake called from the front door, kicking his shoes off before stepping in, “I have your lunch.”

You tried to call out to him but lost your breath in a small gasp.

Jake heard the gasp, and thinking something was wrong, he quickly rushed around the corner from the hallway, stopping at the sight of you, him nearly slipping on the hard floor at seeing your legs spread with your fingers pumping in and out, Your fucked out facial expressions and other hand massaging your tits.

He was hard almost immediately, “Oh baby, fuck,” he hissed, his hand palming at himself through his jeans, “Look at you.”

“Jaeyun,” you whined, barely being able to speak, “I need you,”

Jake left the bag of food on the solo recliner chair, sliding his jacket from his body and tossing it to the floor, “Yeah baby? What do you need me to do?”

“Touch me,” you whimpered, “Please do something.”

Jake slid onto the couch in front of you, tossing your legs over his shoulders and replacing your fingers with his, using his other hand to grip the top of the couch as he hovered over you carefully. You shut your eyes and furrowed your brows, mouth opening wide and letting out a wet moan as the feeling of his fingers slid into you, “Feels good baby? Couldn’t wait until I got home to touch yourself?”

You nodded, “I needed to do something, was too horny.”

Jake bit his lip and pumped his fingers faster into you. The last thing he was expecting to see when he came home was you sprawled out on the couch so wet and ready for him. Jake has only seen you this needy a handful of times, it was a once in a once-in-a-blue-moon kinda thing but oh god was he loving it.

Seeing you so needy only made himself needy too and removed his fingers from your cunt, “Jae—“

“Shhh baby,” he whispered, “Sit up a bit for me, ya?”

You nodded, pulling yourself up into your elbows and scooting up a bit onto the couch arm. Jake laid himself between your legs, lifting your hips up a bit to give him a better angle at your pussy.

Your hands gripped the cushions of the couch at feeling his tongue flatting against your hole, “Fuck, Jake!”

His chuckles sent vibrations up your whole body and made you shiver. His tongue licked streaks up and down your cunt, twirling the muscle around your clit and back down and up again. Repeating the process a few times before sliding his tongue into your pussy, shoving the muscle so far into your hole his nose was now rubbing against your clit.

You chanted his name, knuckles turning white from the death grip you had on the couch, squeezing your thighs against Jake’s head. He moaned into your cunt, bucking his hips into the couch to feel some kind of friction on his cock, his hands gripped your hips tighter, thumbs rubbing circles at the edge of your belly.

The more you squeezed his head between your legs, the more he knew you were fixing to burst, working his tongue faster and angling his face to the side a bit in a tilt, opening his mouth wider to shove his tongue further into your pussy and wrapping his lips around your hole, digging his nose a bit harder against your clit.

“Jaeyun!” you pant, “Jake, I’m going to cum.”

Jake hummed against your heat, only removing himself to let out a “Cum on my tongue for me baby,” then reattaching himself to your cunt, eating you out like you were the last meal he’d ever get.

And it made you come undone, your cum coating his tongue. Jake took a deep breath through his nose, licking your pussy completely clean, taking all your cum into his mouth and swallowing it, “Fuck you taste so good.”

Your chest raised and fell at hitting your high, flinging your arm over your forehead, taking more deep breaths.

You look down at your boyfriend, seeing the look in his eyes as he licks his lips, still soaking up your leftover juices on his mouth, “Turn to your side,” You roll over, watching him unbuckle his belt and pants, sliding them down and off his body. Jake squeezes himself between you and the couch, “Lift your leg over mine.”

You wrapped your leg over his hip and tucked it between him and the couch. His tip lined up with your entrance, and slowly slid into you, “Fuckkkk,” he moaned in your ear as he bottomed out, “You feel so good.”

Jake thrust into you slowly, wanting to savor every ounce of pleasure he could get before having to return back to work, but that plan failed as you backed your ass into his hips and reached a hand behind you to grasp his hair, “Fuck me harder,” you begged, “Babe please.”

His body shuddered, hand gripping your hip and bucked his hips faster, the sound of skin-to-skin filling the quiet of the apartment.

Jake glances down, watching as his hips thrust into you, watching the way your body moves in sync with his. His eyes wandered higher, seeing the baby bump. He carefully places his hand on your belly and snapped his cock further inside you, holding it there to rub against your cervix, “You’re so sexy pregnant,” he growled in your ear then started fucking into you again, “Should have bred this pussy so much sooner.”

You pulled at his hair, “Yeah, you should have.”

Jake was losing his mind. Something about fucking his sexy as fuck pregnant girlfriend on the couch in such a tight space made him dizzy. He couldn’t be as rough and manhandle you as he normally would, but fuck this was still so hot and pleasuring as if he was being rough with you.

Your grip on his hair yanked harder, sending Jake over the edge and filling your cunt completely with his cum, his hand now at your thigh as he squeezed it tightly as he continued to pump his cock in and out, letting your pussy milk him completely.

Out of breath, Jake lays his head on top of yours, hand sliding from your thigh and down back to your belly, thumb drawing little circles.

You placed your hand on top of his and leaned more into him, “You really think I’m sexy pregnant?”

Jake chuckled, “Of course I do, I’ll always find you sexy.” And it was true. He’ll never not find you sexy.

He continued to run his hand over your belly, yours following on top of his, tracing the outline of your naval then sliding down on the underbelly then your hips, and back up.

“I still can’t believe you’re growing a life,” Jake whispered, “Growing our baby.”

You lifted your head up to look at him, smiling at him and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “And it’s all thanks to your sperm that got past all the female's defenses to find the egg.”

Jake softly giggles at your medical terminology and presses his lips back to yours.

He was really still in disbelief. You went from that little girl he grew up with and would tease to his girlfriend and being madly in love and pregnant with his child. Jake was truly so blessed to have found his soulmate so early on in life.

“I love you,” he said between kisses, his hand softly squeezing your belly, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I love you too,” you smiled so warmly at him, sliding a finger down his jaw.

Jake pressed one last kiss to your lips, “Let’s eat, I’m still starving after my first meal.”

You giggled, being so thankful for him.

—

“What about this one?” Heeseung asked, holding up the ugliest orange shirt you’ve ever seen. You scrunch your nose, “Hard pass, got it,” he said, placing the shirt back onto the rack.

You were thankful Heeseung came along with you to do some much-needed shopping. Your baby bump was no longer easy to hide and all the clothes you’d normally wear no longer fit. Well, they did but felt way too tight.

You practically tore your and Jake’s bedroom apart trying to find any piece of clothing that would fit comfortably that wasn’t one of Jake’s hoodies or sweatpants. Heeseung just so happened to be walking out of his bedroom and crossing the hall and almost got hit in the face by a pair of flying jeans. Which is how you now ended up at the mall with him doing much-needed clothing shopping.

“You need some more color in your closet though,” Heeseung said, shifting through all the shirts on the rack, “You can’t just keep having white, black, and red, YN.”

You pouted, “I have other colors!”

Heeseung glared at you, “The few blues, purples, and greens don’t count. You have more black shirts than anything else, you little emo. Even Jake has more colors than you.”

You wanted to fight back but knew you couldn’t. Heeseung was right.

“And check this one out,” He pulled a really pretty lavender shirt from the rack, holding it up against your chest, “I think it looks good!”

You nodded, actually really loving the color, “Put it in the cart,”

Heeseung’s eyes sparkled as he placed it into the cart with the other mixtures of jeans, leggings, dresses, bras, panties, and socks, all for you.

You watched as he moved onto another clothing rack, watching as he pushed the cart for you. You couldn’t hide the smile that was forming on your lips as you looked at him with endearment. If he was willing to do all this for you, his best friend's girlfriend, and his other best friend's little sister, while pregnant, you could only imagine how well he’d treat his future girlfriend and wife. Heeseung would make a fine husband someday.

“Seungie, you sure you don’t mind doing all this?” you felt somewhat guilty. Jake should be here too, picking out clothes for you. But unfortunately, going and watching Formula One races with your brother at the sports bar was in his deck of cards today. You even called Jake earlier and told him the plans you made with Heeseung and he didn’t even bat an eye at it.

“Why would I mind?” he questioned, taking a pink long sleeve off the rack and holding it up to you, “Yeah pink is definitely your color while pregnant,” then tossed the fabric into the cart.

“Because you literally helped me shop for bras and underwear?”

Heeseung shrugged his shoulders as he continued to flip through the clothing rack, “They are just clothes, YN. I’ve done your laundry plenty of times, and have walked in on you and Jake undressing each other enough times. We’ve grown up together, shopping for undergarments with you doesn’t bother me at all.”

Your heart filled with the love you have for him, wanting to pull him into a tight hug and kiss his cheek. Heeseung was definitely that second older brother you never had.

But you decided to use this time to tease him. You don’t get to tease Heeseung often, he was always one step ahead but this might be your chance.

“Jake might think differently after finding out you helped shop for lace bras and panties for me when it should be his eyes only.”

Heeseung chuckled, holding up a black long-sleeve and then tossing it to the cart, “Then maybe he needs to find better hiding places to smell your panties with.”

Your smile fell, “He does what?”

Heeseung let out a loud laugh, “YN, I’m joking, you can’t try to tease me and expect me to not clap back.”

Always one step ahead as usual.

“Besides, I’ve only ever caught him with your panties once and that was before you moved in with us and he was definitely NOT smelling them, that’s for sure.”

You knew about how Heeseung caught Jake rubbing one out with a pair of your dark blue panties that were Jake’s absolutely favorite pair. You saw Jake steal them from your drawer before he took that drive back home and confronted him before he could even step foot out the door of your dorm. Jake wasn’t a panty sniffer, but he sure used to be a stealer. You remember how Jake called you not even five minutes after Heeseung walked in on him. You thought it was the funniest thing.

“Jake honestly probably wouldn’t care anyways,” you shrugged, following behind Heeseung as he moved into another section of clothes, “He’d just be happy someone was here with me.”

Heeseung agreed, “He’s been so protective over you since finding out you were pregnant. He made me and Sunghoon swear to look after you if he and Jay weren’t around to do so. Never seen the man that protective, and you know how he is over his ramen.”

Getting Jake to share his ramen is a hard thing to do, even with you. He had a bowl the other night and you had to beg for him to share and even pulled the pregnancy card to get him to share it, which he didn’t do by the way, “Just because you’re pregnant doesn't mean I’ll share my ramen. Fuck off.” Asshole.

Heeseung continued, “You really make him happy, YN.” You nodded. You knew you did. Jake never goes without telling you, “You know, I was a bit jealous at first.”

You raised a brow in confusion at him, “What are you talking about, ace?”

Heeseung sighed, picking up another shirt, then placing it back on the rack, refusing to make eye contact with you, “When we first saw you again after all that time during winter vacation, you had all our hearts dropping, just so you know. It wasn’t just Jake’s.”

You knew the feeling was mutual, seeing Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon all grown up made your heart flutter. They were good-looking men, they still are, there’s no denying that.

“We knew from the beginning that Jake’s heart kinda dropped a bit harder than ours did,” he continued, “Don’t worry about Jake finding out about this conversation, he already knows,” you nodded, waiting for him to continue, “I woke up one night and saw Jake sneaking out of the guest room, I think it was the very first time he did so. I sat up after the door was closed only to see Sunghoon was staring at the door as well. We knew exactly where he went. We stayed up discussing it. About what we should do about it. We knew Jay would kill him and then kill us if he ever found out we knew.”

Ouch, guess you and Jake suck at hiding, “Does my brother and Jake know you two knew?”

Heeseung nodded, “They do now. The four of us had a good long talk on that drive back to the apartment, but at first no.”

Makes sense.

“Anyway, Hoon and I just decided to keep it to ourselves. Mostly because, well, our own feelings were conflicted. You weren’t completely the same little girl we grew up with. We were mostly just attracted to you, that’s how far our feelings went really. I was jealous Jake had the balls to go after you even after Jay was being his crazy protective brother self,” Heeseung laughed, “Jake was really crazy for crossing that line. Had major balls. But after he snuck back into the guest room that night and saw how wide his smile was at breakfast that following morning, you became off limits not just because of Jay, but also Jake. Hoon and I decided to drop the attraction, don’t get me wrong, you’re still as pretty as ever, but you went back to being our little sister super quick.”

You just smiled at him, you found it cute that the three stooges all had some little crush on you at some point. Funny even. Jake just happened to be your soulmate from the beginning, they all knew that too.

“Anyway,” Heeseung said again, finding a blue top with a flower graphic design, “I think we have enough clothes picked out for you,” he said as he tossed the article of clothing for you into the cart, “How about you help me find some new outfits for you now?” him giving you his heart lipped smile.

You nodded, it was the least you could do, plus you both were already here.

Heeseung continued to push the cart as you found clothes for him. It was his turn to watch you with such endearment. Heeseung doesn’t know why he decided to tell you about the small and very short-lived crush he used to have on you. Maybe it was because you looked so pretty today. With how your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and wearing Jake’s hoodie and sweatpants. It was way too cute. You’ve worn Jake’s clothes even before he got you pregnant, but it was still cute. Made him think that this is how his future wife will look once pregnant. But looking at you made Heeseung happy because you were happy. Jake made you happy and you made Jake happy. Which obviously made everyone else happy.

Heeseung watched as you picked him out a bright pink shirt, leaning on his elbows on the cart, his eyes wandering down to your belly, his smile growing wider, “I can’t wait to become an uncle.”

—

Jake and Jay clinked their beer glasses together as they cheered for their racing team, chugging down the liquid. Then asking the bartender for another refill. They clinked their glasses again, chugged it down, and got another refill.

Jake and Jay’s phone buzzed, Heeseung texting the “and they were roommates” group chat.

Jay took a few sips of his beer, ignoring the chat so Jake looked instead.

“Hee and YN are back home,” Jake said, and Jay nodded, “Hee also said to let either him or Sunghoon know if we need someone to come get us.”

It was usually this way if any of the boys went out without the others. Everyone is always on standby if anyone gets too drunk. And if all of them went out together, one person wouldn’t drink or drink as much to be the driver home. It was a perfect system.

Jay took a few more sips of his beer then set the glass on the table, “How did YN's doctor appointment go yesterday?”

Jake brought the glass to his lips, “Everything is good. She’s healthy, the baby is healthy. That’s all I could ask for,” he took a few sips of the beer and trained his eyes back to the TV with the race on it.

“Do you know the gender yet?” Jay asked curiously. Jay has been thinking about that a lot lately. If he’ll have a niece or nephew? Will they have more of the Park genetics or the Sim genetics or an equal mixture of both? Will he be a good uncle? God, he hopes so.

Jake just shakes his head, “YN wants to wait until she has the baby, wants it to be a big surprise. Should have seen her face when the doctor tried to tell her the gender. She held her hands up so fast and straight up told the doctor to keep her mouth shut.”

Jake chuckles at the memory, he thought you were going to fight the doctor over it. Thank god you didn’t.

Jay relaxes in his seat, studying his best friend, “Are you nervous?”

Jake narrows his eyes and releases a huff, taking another sip of the beer, “Oh what? Nothing to be nervous over.”

Jay could see right through Jake. He knows his best friend like the back of his hand, he can see it all over Jake’s face that the further along you got in your pregnancy, the more nervous he got. Jay really noticed Jake’s shakiness after returning from the appointment yesterday.

“To be a dad. Nervous about wanting to take care of my sister, and wanting the pregnancy to go smoothly. Bro, I can see it all over your face. You vowed to stop drinking and partying after she got pregnant, yet you were the first one tonight to order alcohol.”

Jake just shakes his head, “I want to be the perfect dad. I want to take care of YN through the whole pregnancy. I want our baby to be healthy. I’m scared man.”

Jay nods, slowly rocking his body with the nod, “I’m nervous too.”

Jake raised a brow, clearly confused.

Jay continued, “I lived for protecting my sister, that obviously hasn’t changed, but I always tried and wanted to be the perfect older brother for her. I knew once the day came that she started popping out kids that I wanted to be a perfect uncle and protect her kids as I did her. But I also feel like I haven’t been the best or perfect brother. That I didn’t try hard enough and now I’m scared I’ll fail as an uncle.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Jake snapped, causing Jay to widen his eyes at him, “You’re not a failure of a brother. You never failed YN and you won’t ever fail her. You did perfectly to protect her, trust me, as someone who got caught sneaking around with her, you do a pretty damn good job at it. And you won’t fail our child either. I promise you that. You’ll be a perfect uncle.”

Jay tried to keep his eyes clear as he nodded, never wanting to admit that Jake’s words gave him the ego boost he needed.

So he raised his glass, “To our little family.”

Jake smiled, raising his glass as well, “To our little family.”

“Including Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Shotaro, because YN would kill us both if we left them out.”

Jake nodded in agreement, “Amen to that brotha.”

“Thank you…for helping me take care of my sister,” Jay chuckled, “She doesn’t just have to deal with me trying to protect her.”

“Trust me,” Jake rolled his eyes, “She hates it.”

“Well YN gotta deal I guess.” Jay shrugged but also laughed.

Jay had to admit he finally and fully was able to accept Jake in your life. He always accepted him, it just took a little bit longer to be one hundred percent okay with it. To be completely used to seeing you wrapped in Jake’s arms. Because now when you weren’t by Jake, it was weird and didn’t sit right. Jay honestly was so thankful you chose Jake. Because if you chose any other loser male out there, Jay wouldn’t be as accepting. No one is good enough for his sister besides Jake. Point blank. Plus, you were pregnant with Jake’s baby, and Jay kinda had no choice but to fully accept Jake into the family.

They chugged down their drinks and got another refill, paying back attention to the race and knocking their sad attitudes away.

“You know,” Jay said after some time, “We’re both fucked if you have a girl.”

Jake groaned and dropped his face into his hands, “Don’t fucking remind me, I’ve already thought about it.”

Jay chuckled some more, chugging down his alcohol. If you did have a girl, he already knows his protection level will skyrocket. And since Jake will be the baby’s father…oh all hell would break loose. That baby wouldn’t just have to deal with an overprotective father, but an overprotective uncle. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to know the gender yet, you knew what would happen the minute everyone found out.

And honestly, it wouldn’t just be him and Jake losing their brains over you having a girl. Heeseung and Sunghoon would also protect that child with their lives. The two of them are already helping you around the apartment and watching your every move. It’ll just be worse once the baby is here.

Jay shook Jake’s shoulders, “Come on man, lighten up! Just focus on the fact you’re going to be one kick-ass of a dad!”

That lifted Jake’s spirits, “Yeah? Think so?”

Jay nodded, “Yeah. Because if you aren’t I’ll beat you myself. YN will be right behind me too.”

Jake just rolls his eyes, “Whatever man.”

The two of them laughed and continued to watch the race and enjoy each other's company.

Heeseung had his arm wrapped around Jake, and Sunghoon had his arm wrapped around Jay, helping the two of them walk out of the bar.

You had your arms crossed as you leaned against the car, watching for your boyfriend and brother to come into view. Your heart relaxes once the sight of Heeseung and Sunghoon dragging them out comes into view.

“Damn, how much did they drink?” You asked, your eyes glancing back and forth between the two drunks.

Sunghoon scoffed, “Who knows, but we told them to not get so fucking hammered.”

“But our racer won!” Jake smiles, letting out a hiccup then his eyes focused on you, “Baby!”

Jay looked up at you, realizing Hee and Hoon left you outside, his protectiveness and rage coming in, “You left my pregnant sister outside by HERSELF?!”

Jake then realized it himself too, “You left my pregnant girlfriend outside by HERSELF?!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” Heeseung snapped, “I tried to usher you both out of the bar by myself but I needed help. YN was told to stay INSIDE the car.”

You just shrugged, “I can hold my own.”

“You’re pregnant!!” Jake and Jay both said in unison.

“Yeah! Pregnant! Not disabled!”

Jake lifted himself from Heeseung and walked to you, taking your chin between his fingers and his other hand resting on your tummy, “You and this baby are the most important things to me, if something were to happen to you two…I…”

You relaxed your body and placed your hands on your boyfriend's face, you knew he was just being protective. Same with your brother. You knew you were the most important thing to them, the least you could do was respect their wishes when it comes to protecting you.

“I am okay,” you reassured him, looking at your brother and repeating the words, “Heeseung and Sunghoon wouldn’t have left me alone if they didn’t think it was okay.”

“Trust me,” Sunghoon said, trying to keep Jay from slipping out of his hold, “We didn’t want to leave her in the car.”

“Can we discuss this at home?” Jay said, hanging his head low, “I think I drank way too much.”

“You don’t fucking say?!” Heeseung scoffed, helping Sunghoon with Jay.

“I’ll drive Jay’s car back,” Sunghoon said, “Help me get him in then we can head back. I think YN has Jake fine.”

You nodded, eyes darting to your brother, “Take care of him.”

You got Jake in the car, him laying his head on your shoulder, cuddling up to you.

Heeseung returns quickly and jumps in the driver's seat of his car, “Let’s get home guys, I’m exhausted.”

You watched Jake’s hand through the street lamps and moonlight as his thumb rubbed your thigh then shifted up and placed his whole hand on your pregnant stomach.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he says softly, taking a deep breath and snuggling more into you. You rest your head against the top of his, smiling. You could already tell Jake would be a fantastic father.

You kissed his forehead, whispering, “I love you.”

—

You moaned softly into Jake’s mouth as he slowly pumped into you.

The early morning sun beats down onto the bed, making his skin shine beautifully.

Jake slides his tongue down your mouth, his hand moving up and down your bare back, stopping to squeeze your ass, moving down to your leg wrapped over his hip, and squeezing your thigh before moving back up and repeating the process.

You were now about halfway done with your pregnancy. Your little sprout of life grows perfectly and healthy every single day, which made having sex with Jake a bit harder now that the baby has grown so big.

But that didn’t stop you two, obviously.

Jake woke you up this morning with kisses to your neck, and his fingers sliding down your shorts, “I need you so bad right now.”

The sex wasn’t rough but filled with so much love. It was soft, lazy, passionate, and just so so much love.

His hand stopped at your hip and squeezed it tightly, “I want to get so rough with you, fuck,” he whispers, “I need to cum.”

You remove yourself from him, sliding his cock out and rolling over to your other side, backing your ass into his hips, “Then get rough with me babe.”

Jake hissed, quickly shoving his cock back into your cunt, snapping his hips fast against your ass.

“Fuck baby, can never get enough of this pussy.”

You could tell Jake was losing himself in your heat. He hasn’t been able to be rough like he normally wanted to, being too afraid that he would hurt you.

Jake leaned more into your back, pressing you into the sheets as he fucked into you at a primal rate. His fingers slipping between your legs and rubbing your clit at the same pace.

You bit into the fabric of your pillow to suppress your moans, not wanting to wake anyone else up in the apartment. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white.

You missed how rough Jake could get. Missed him pressing your face into the pillows. Even though this wasn’t the full extent of roughness that he could do, you still ate up every ounce of what he was giving you right now.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, “You’re doing so good for me, taking my cock so well even though you’re pregnant.”

You felt your climax reach its peak, Jake groaning at feeling you cum on his cock. He was literally on cloud 9. And the fact you’re letting him get even the smallest amount of rough with you was driving him crazy.

Jake would be lying if he said he didn’t google sex positions to use while being pregnant and read plenty of articles on it too. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you or make you uncomfortable.

Jake also read how some girlfriends/wives completely took sex off the table when they found out they were pregnant. He was so fucking blessed that you had just as high a sex drive as he did. Jake would lose his mind if you wouldn’t let him have a taste of that sweet pussy of yours for nine months. His hand would only get him so far before his crumpling at your feet begging you to let him fuck you. So again yeah, he thanked god you were just as addicted to his cock as he was to your pussy.

Not to mention the position he has you in right now was so sexy to him. He was still able to press your face into the pillows and rail you from behind, getting to see how his cock moves inside you, watching how your cum wraps a white ring around his cock. Get to see every facial expression you make while hitting your G-spot. What’s not to love about it? Plus you’re comfortable and it wasn’t affecting your belly at all.

“Hmm I’m fixing to cum baby,” he growls, “Going to fill this cunt to the brim.”

“Pleaseeee,” you beg, wanting nothing more than to feel his cum stain your insides.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, licking the shell of your ear and then biting the lobe as he came. His strings of white rope filled you completely, “Fuck…fuck,” he moaned, trying to catch his breath.

Jake kissed your temple before pulling out and removing himself from the bed. You rolled over and watched his naked figure dig in his dresser for a clean pair of boxers and socks, slipping them onto his body then grabbing his favorite pair of jeans that he wears to work, along with his white striped button-up.

You sat up in bed, pulling the covers over your naked body, now cold from the loss of your boyfriend pressed against you.

“You should call out,” you softly said.

Jake chuckles as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his sneakers onto his feet, “I would if I could my love, I need every time saved up to use once you give birth.”

You groaned and pouted but knew it wouldn’t get you your way. Knowing he couldn’t actually call out. Mostly when he wanted to take off a couple of days around your due date just in case he needed to rush you to the hospital. And then there’s the first few weeks he wants to spend with you after the baby arrives. He couldn’t take off at all and the only reason his leave got approved by his boss was because he promised to show up every single day before you gave birth no matter what. Yet you still pouted anyway.

“What will I do while you’re gone?”

“Why don’t you see if one of the other guys can hang out with you?” Jake wanted to call out. Wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with you all day. But he has a future child and a girlfriend to feed and spoil, he kind of needed to work.

“I already asked them,” You cross your arms, “Heeseung also has to work, Sunghoon is spending the day with his sister, and Jay is too busy finishing up his culinary degree online to step away.”

“Have you called Shotaro? I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

Your eyes lit up, remembering that Taro had the day off today, “Yeah I’ll give him a call.”

Jake smiled at you, “Just make sure to be careful okay?” he asked, placing his hand over your growing belly, “Don’t do anything you know you can’t do, let Shotaro help.”

You rolled your eyes, being as stubborn as ever.

“I’ll call and tell himself—“

“Okay!” you said, “I’ll behave.”

“Good,” Jake pulls you in for a couple of kisses, then kisses your forehead, “I’ll see you when I get off. I love you.”

“I love you too meanie head!”

Then you watched him walk out of the bedroom.

—

“What do you mean you don’t want a baby shower?” Taro asked, brows furrowed as his fingers rapidly pressed the buttons on his PS5 controller, the sounds of the boss he was fighting and killed on Elden Ring filled his sound system, “Yes!!!”

You slouched down onto his couch, watching as his character now ran out of the castle, “Didn’t you beat this game already?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, still focused on the game, “But I am doing a different build this time.”

You just sighed, continuing to watch your best friend play his video game, the ice in his coffee on the table to his right slowly melting away.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

You groaned, “Ughhh Jay was on my ass about this too the other day,” you pouted, and decided it was time to sit up. Taro quickly set the controller down to his set and helped you sit up, “I don’t want a baby shower because I don’t really have any girlfriends, and even so I don’t know the gender of the baby, so I don’t want to get a bunch of pointless gifts. Jake and I decided we would just probably have a small get-together after our child is born and we all go shopping for stuff then.”

Shotaro nodded, making sure you were sitting up comfortably before grabbing his controller again, and going back to the game, “I guess that is a bit easier and less planning out. Totally sounds like a you thing to do though. Why would Jay get onto you for it?

You shrugged, “I think he’s more nervous than I am and wants an excuse to drink.”

Shotaro laughed, “Yeah, I’ve noticed the lack of Lee, Parks, and Sim at parties.”

Which Taro understood completely. Everyone was an adult and you were pregnant, none of the four men wanted to leave you alone at the apartment while they went out. Even if they wanted to, Taro always offered to sit with you, but I think the reality check hit each of them hard after finding out you were pregnant, kinda sending them to a more sober life.

“Those four really took attached at the hip seriously huh?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, it’s probably worse now than what it was when we were kids, and they were super annoying as kids.”

Shotaro sometimes wished he knew you five back then. From the stories he’s heard from Jake, Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and yourself, the five of you were a blast to be around. You five, at least to Shotaro, were the sole definition of what friendship/family is and what it meant. He’s happy that he’s a part of the family now, but man he would have loved to see you all in your prime.

Shotaro closed out Elden Ring, “Want to play anything? I feel bad just having you sit here.”

You shook your head, “Taro I feel perfectly fine just sitting here and watching you play games. Your company is everything and much needed.”

Taro just smiles, opening up Elden Ring again and leaning back on the couch. He knew you just wanted some company, but he still didn’t want to let you feel left out either.

From what Jake said, you used to be super independent, not needing anything from anyone or needed anyone who wasn't Jay. That you grew up so headstrong and unbreakable, probably due to having Jay as your brother and the three stooges as your friends. Even when you went off to college you were independent, only ever spending time with your roommate and a few other friends but mostly did your own thing.

But something changed after that winter break and moving into town. You got used to relying on others, always having one of the four boys at your side so when they are all busy, you feel lost. That’s where Shotaro came in. He knows you two are best friends and that you love him and know when you need him, and you need him right now. Things got a lot crazier after finding out you were pregnant, but Taro still was filled with endearment each time you asked to hang out.

You slid back onto the couch too, leaning your head against his shoulder. Shotaro leaned more into you as well, letting the two of you be comfortable with each other's space.

“Actually, can I learn to play? Jake plays this at home all the time too.”

Shotaro nodded, “Of course, princess.”

He hands you the controller, “Are you sure? I don’t want to mess up your progress.”

“It’s just a game, YN,” he chuckles, “Plus I know what I’m doing, I can fix any mistake you make.”

You smiled, letting him teach you what each button does and how it works, and then taught you the basics of the game. Before you knew it you were running around and slaying the lower level enemies.

“Figured out names yet?” Taro asked, taking a few sips of his coffee.

You shrugged, “We honestly haven’t really discussed it. Jake and I have been really going about this blind, besides you know, reading the parenting books and doing your basic research. Plus I’ve been attending my doctor appointments and everything seems to be going well, so we are doing something right.”

“As long as you both and the baby are happy and healthy, that’s all that matters. Maybe it’s one of those things that once you see your child for the first time, the name will come to you almost immediately.”

You nodded, “That’s what we are going for.”

You were then killed in the game and Taro teased you to no end that you got his character killed even after he said it would all be okay.

But you were happy, laughing, and enjoying your time with your best friend. You could see it now, Shotaro being another non-biological uncle to your child. Teach him or her to play video games and tease them to the point they are crying from laughter.

You were truly blessed to have been surrounded by the right people.

—

Jake rolled his eyes as he shoved his gloved hands into his puffy jacket pockets, “Is there any reason why I need to be here right now?” he scoffs, a shiver going down his back, “I could be at home cuddling my girlfriend.”

And rightfully getting my dick wet.

You woke up super touchy this morning, pressing your chest and belly against his back, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and shoulder, sliding your hand down his boxers, and pumping his long hard length slowly.

Jake could be buried balls deep inside you right now. Whether that means your hand, mouth, or cunt. He didn’t care, he just wanted to fuck you slowly.

Sunghoon skated passed him quickly, taking Jake’s mind out of the multiple positions he could already have put you in by now.

“Man, we just want one last bro day before YN has the baby,” Heeseung tucked his hands into his pockets, “She’s ready to pop open any day, ya?”

Jake just nodded, staring down at the ice underneath him, “Within the next few weeks yeah.”

Jay patted his shoulder, “Don’t look so nervous, everything will be fine.”

Jake knew everything would be fine. But you’ve been staying in bed or lounging around on the couch more often than doing anything else these days. With you finally being in the last leg of your pregnancy, Jake just wanted to take care of you. And obviously, get his dick shoved so far up your cunt that it makes you see stars.

Jake just rolled his eyes, “That’s not the point, I want to be at home with her right now.”

“You just want to get your dick wet,” Sunghoon said as he slid across the ice in front of his friends, “I heard the fooling around that was happening this morning.”

Jake glared at his best friend, “Really man?”

Jay was also glaring, but not at Sunghoon, “Yeah really man?” Jay might have fully accepted Jake as family and his relationship with his little sister, but he still didn’t want to hear about the sexual acts the two of you do.

Jake was now glaring at Jay, “I got her knocked up, I don’t see why you’re giving me the death stare right now. It’s kind of obvious at this point that I have sex with your sister.”

Heeseung and Sunghoon could honestly eat popcorn and watch Jay get mad about Jake railing against you every single time. But Jay was just being a big brother protecting his baby sister, even though you were literally so close to giving birth.

Jay just waves his hands in the air, “Nah nah I don’t want to hear it.”

“Anyways!” Sunghoon interrupted, skating back in front of his friends, “We are going to have a bro day and ice skate on my old stomping grounds from hockey days. YN is with my sister having a girls' day, she’s fine.”

Jake knew once the baby was here that having a guy's day would be less often, mostly up until you’re able to take care of the baby alone after much-needed rest and care. So he shrugged his shoulders, knowing you were with Yeji and perfectly safe, and smiled up at his friends.

It’s been a while since the last time the four of them ice skated together. It was probably before college. Because once Sunghoon was accepted onto the hockey team, it became hard to skate together again.

The four boys raced around the rink, trying everything they could to outrun Sunghoon but failing terribly.

Jake’s heart was so full. He felt like a kid again being with his best friends. With the way everyone laughed, teased, and talked without a care in the world brought all of them back to their high school days. When they’d sneak out of the Park’s house and climb onto the roof and look at the stars until you got annoyed at hearing them talk above your bedroom.

The memories didn’t stop there. Jake started to remember his soccer days in high school. Remember seeing Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and you cheering him on from the bleachers. Remembering how his parents threw a big party for when his team won the championships for the school district, everyone’s parents drank and laughed in the kitchen while the five of you along with Heeseung and Jake’s older brothers, and Yeji. How you all played around outside until the sun went down.

Jake rounded the corner of the ice rink, his smile up to his ears as the images of his friends once as children came into mind, then turning them back into who they are all now.

It’s crazy how fast time can change, but how the four of them never did. They continued to grow together, learn together, and still had each other's backs.

Jake was truly lucky to have these guys, mostly now that he has you. Jake will never have so much trust in anyone else with his child as he will with the three men standing before him.

Jake pulled his friends into a hug, “I really needed this today guys, thank you,” His friends pulled each other closer, their smiles never fading, “I truly do love you guys.”

—

You lay in bed, scrolling through the latest TikTok trends and giggling softly to yourself, using your thumb to swipe to the next video, your other hand gently resting on your belly, fingers tapping lightly as if to tell your baby that you’re here and ready for them.

You were nearing the due date, counting down the actual seconds until it was time to finally meet the little sprout of life that you and Jake created. To finally grow this small family into something bigger. You were excited, Jake was excited. Same with Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon even went out and bought a small hockey jersey of his favorite team for the baby to wear. Heeseung bought baby Legos, and Jay bought a small baby guitar to teach his nephew/niece the love of music so early on.

Sometimes you think the other three are more excited about you giving birth than you and Jake were.

But nevertheless, it made you more than happy to see the three of them excited for the baby.

The only con to being pregnant and being at the due date is everyone has been more on edge. All four of the boys have started picking up more hours and longer shifts at work to pile in that extra money. Mostly because you can’t work and Jake will be taking a leave to help take care of you and the baby. So the other three decided to pick up those hours to help pick up the slack from Jake not working to help pay the bills. You were grateful and hated that you could pitch in, but you loved them all dearly for it. Jake also was working himself to death recently, wanting to get every last penny possible to put into savings for the hospital bills you’ll have and to get clothes and food that everyone else will need.

You set your phone down at your side, staring up at the ceiling. Grateful and love aren’t big enough words to describe how happy you are to have those four men.

As if on cue, the front door to the quiet apartment opened, an obvious sign that someone returned home.

Today was one of the rare days you were left alone. Mostly because Shotaro also had to work and wasn’t able to call out or get a replacement. But you promised to stay in bed all day to help ease the boys' minds.

You sat up in the bed, listening carefully on who could have come back home, then heard the sigh of your boyfriend and the sound of him dropping himself onto the couch.

Your heart raced as you swung your legs over the bed and stood up, making your way to the bedroom and opening it slowly, peaking out to see Jake hunched over on the couch, face in his hands.

You walked out of the room, the sound of your bare feet walking on the floor had Jake lifting his head, giving you a small smile, “Hey baby, you resting okay?”

You nodded, taking note of the bags under his eyes. How tired he looked, how he seemed to barely keep his smile up.

“Jake, are you okay?” you asked him, taking his hand into yours, and rubbing your thumb into his palm.

Jake just nodded, leaning back onto the couch, “I’m just exhausted. They sent me home early because I almost fell asleep on a computer tower I was working on.”

You bit your lip as you squeezed his hand. Jake has been working so hard for you. Barely getting enough sleep. If he wasn’t at work, he was at home helping to take care of you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Jake could see the worry in your eyes, quickly trying to blink away the sleep and sat back up, taking both of his hands to your belly and resting his forehead against the middle, “Don't look at me like that,” he whispered, “It’s all for you, for us. It’s going to be worth it once this little one is here.”

You tangled your fingers into his hair, taking a deep breath in. Jake is almost as stubborn as Jay when it comes to putting his mind to something. You knew no matter how much you told him to rest or not worry about you, he was going to do everything anyway.

Jake’s hand moved to your hips and softly squeezed, leaving a few kisses on your clothed belly, “Even when you’re fixing to burst open you’re still so sexy, YN.”

A heat wave went through your body, and you started acting on instinct.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, slowly pressing him back onto the couch. Jake looks up at you, seeing the lust that filled your eyes now. Seeing the want to take care of him.

He had to admit, it got his cock hard so fast.

Jake watched as you sank down to your knees, crossing your legs underneath you for better balance, hands now at the button of his jeans.

“Baby—“

You cut him off, “Let me take care of you,” you said it more as a warning than anything else, making him know damn well he better sit back and relax, “You’ve been taking such good care of me, let me repay it.”

Jake didn’t even attempt to start arguing, not after you slid his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, his cock slapping against his abdomen from being set free. The tip already red and angry and leaking with precum. Jake bit his lips, any exhaustion he had was out the window as he watched you take his length in your hands, extending your tongue and licking him from his balls all the way up his shaft and to the tip. Flattening your tongue over the top and pressing the precum, mixing it with your saliva.

Jake couldn’t hold his moans back, mostly not after you placed the tip between your lips, slowly sucking it as your tongue wrapped around it then releasing it with a pop.

You fluttered your eyes up to him, seeing the way your boyfriends pupils were already so blown out. Loving how furrowed his brows were and how his mouth opened a gap. You smirked at him, keeping eye contact as you stretched your tongue out again and licked up his shaft.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, hands gripping the cushions of the couch, “Fuck fuck fuck, stop teasing me.”

You hummed against his cock, placing soft kisses up the shaft and at the tip then finally taking him completely in your mouth.

Jake flung his head back as he felt your mouth slide down him, the tip hitting the back off your throat and squeezing around him, a wet moan leaving his plump lips.

You squeezed your thighs together, the moan Jake let out sent chills down your spine and to your heat. You had to be dripping out of your panties after that moan, because fuck it was hot.

You bobbed your head up and down, taking every inch of him as your hands squeezed his thighs. Tongue working its magic as it wrapped around him, giving that extra pleasure.

Jake set his head back up, looking down at you all pretty between his legs, sucking him off like the good girl you are, taking such good care of him.

Jake was losing his mind, seeing the way you sucked his dick, with how you gripped onto his thighs. Wearing that pretty blue sleep dress to help keep the comfort while pregnant. It was so fucking hot to him.

Here you were, knocked the fuck up and still down on your knees for him. Sucking him like your life depended on it. Jake could cum just from watching you.

His cock twitched and he hissed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Baby,” he cooed, running a finger down your jaw and your eyes fluttered up to him, still not slowing down your movements, “I’m fixing—fuck—to cum,” he flung his head back, but then quickly set it back up, “I wanna cum in your pussy.”

You released him from your mouth, using his thighs, with the help of his hands pulling you up.

Jake carefully laid you down on your back against the couch, hands lifting up your blue dress until it was now on the floor, hands flicking back to your hips and removing your panties, leaving you completely bare to him.

You reached for his shirt, hands gliding up his body, fingers tracing over his abs and chest as he helped you remove that last bit of clothing from him.

Jake lined his cock to your entrance, hands resting on your knees, looking to you for the nod of approval then sliding himself in.

You gasp as he bottoms out, then pulls himself halfway out, then slams back into you.

Jake bit his lips as he watched the way your body reacted to him deep inside you, watching as you moaned and whimpered under him. Even though you did all this to take care of him, Jake wasn’t going to let himself finish without you getting some taken care of too.

So his fingers got to work on your clit as he pounded into you. Jake was already close and knew he was going to bust before you did, but he didn’t care. He continued to fuck into you until his seed spilled in you, his hips staggering as he did two last hard thrusts then held his hips in place, making sure every last drop of his cum stayed inside you. His fingers are working faster now.

Your moaning got louder. The sensation of Jake pressed up against your cervix with his fingers on your clit was driving you mad. You couldn’t form any sentences, could barely even think of a sentence.

“Oh? Fucked you dumb?” Jake cooed, licking his bottom lip, and slowly started moving his hips again, “All you know is my cock right now? Right baby?”

You nodded, feeling your climax fast approaching.

Jake thought he would be finished after cumming, but seeing how fucked out you were made his dick twitch and wanting more. He couldn’t help it, you looked too sexy laying there under him to not move his hips again. Regardless of how overstimulating he felt right now. It just added to the moment.

“Fuck I love you so much,” he whispered, snapping his hips faster, his cum now leaking out of your hole and dripping down onto the couch, “Here you are fixing to give birth and still caring more about taking care of me and my needs? God, what did I do to deserve you?”

The knot snapped and your orgasm washed over you. Jake pumped into you faster now, both hands being back on your knees, mixing your cum together.

“Thank you,” Jake groaned, “Thank you for never giving up on me,” he ran his hands down to your thighs, gripping the plush tightly, “Even after everything we’ve been through, after the shit I put you through. You stayed by me, continued to love me—fuck—thank you, baby, for never giving up on me, on us. And I promise you,” Jake reached his second climax faster than expected, but he didn’t care, letting the white ropes shoot deep inside your cunt, hips pinning so hard against your thighs you’re sure bruises will be there in the morning, “I won’t give up on us, I’ll never give up on us, on you, or this family.”

You exhaustedly smiled up at your boyfriend, looking at him with endearment as you reached both arms up to his shoulders and pulled him down to you. Jake hovered carefully, his hand gripping the back of the couch as his lips connected to yours.

He rests his forehead against yours, smiling and chuckling as he struggles to catch his breath after cumming twice.

How did he actually get so lucky to call you his?

—

You woke up in a pained sweat, your body sitting up quickly as your hands reached for your lower stomach.

It was only five pm, and the apartment was quiet except for the sounds of Jake’s soft snores as he slept beside you, the other three being at work.

“Jake,” you barely were able to mumble out, reaching a hand from your stomach to tap his bare back, “Jake.”

Jake sniffled and hummed, not moving.

You sat up more, feeling the wetness soaking the bed sheets.

“Jake,” you cried out, shoving his shoulder the best you could, sending his head shooting up and looking at you, “Jake.”

All it took was one look and Jake knew what was happening.

“Shit!” he cursed, jumped from the bed, and ran to the closet, grabbing a pair of clothes for you and himself.

Jake helped you dress as fast as he could before dressing himself and helping you to your feet and out of the apartment.

You still weren’t due for another few days but Jake never has been so happy to already have his time off from work.

Crazy how the small nap the two of you decided to take would end with your child deciding to gift the world its presence. Even though nerve-racking, Jake wouldn’t help the excitement.

Jake was speeding down the street, fumbling with his phone to call Jay while telling you to keep breathing.

Jay answered on the second ring.

“What’s up, man? I am in the mid—“

“Her water broke,” Jake interrupted.

“What?” Jake could hear the panic in your brother's voice.

“YN’s water broke!”

“Oh fuck,” there was fumbling around in the background and the sound of Jay’s shoes hitting the pavement to show he’s running, followed up by a “My sister’s water broke, I gotta go!” more running then a car door being shut, “Please get her to the hospital safe, I’ll be there shortly.”

“Call Hee and Hoon and all our parents too,” Jake was barely able to say, the nerves settling in even more, “I need to focus on YN. Can you also go back to the apartment? I forgot the extra bag of things for her night stay.”

Jay agreed, “Get me sister there safe,” and then the call ended.

Jake tossed his phone onto his lap, reaching his hand over onto your stomach, rubbing it gently, “Just keep breathing baby, okay?”

You nodded, feeling lightheaded and like you were about to pass out.

Before you knew it, you lay on the hospital bed with nurses and doctors surrounding your lower half. Jake stood by your side squeezing your hand tightly and sending words of encouragement that you could barely hear over the sound of your ears ringing from pushing.

This was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt, but you knew once your baby was out, it would always be worth it.

Jake leaned his head against yours, placing kisses on your brow, and continued his words of encouragement, “That’s it, baby, you’re doing great. Keep pushing.”

You gave one final push, and the pain was easing up. Jake’s head whipped to your lower half as the sound of crying now filled the room.

You took some deep breaths and relaxed your body, but you noticed Jake’s hand was still squeezing yours. You tried to call him, but eyes never once left your baby as the doctors and nurses took them to a small table, bathing your child clean, their little cries getting louder.

One of the nurses noticed Jake’s stare, her smile growing wide after the other nurses finished wrapping your baby in a blanket.

“Want to come meet your daughter, dad?” the nurse said.

Daughter. He had a daughter.

Jake opens his mouth to speak, hands trembling.

“Babe,” Jake hears you call to him, “Go meet our daughter.”

He finally looks down at you, only seeing how big your smile is even after the exhaustion of pushing out a whole human being.

So he nodded, finally letting go of your hand, and with shaky legs walked over to the table.

Jake fell to his knees. One look was all it took. One look at his daughter and everything in life made sense. One look and his life finally had even more purpose than before. One look and that sweet baby girl became the center of his world.

Oh, he was fucked.

The nurses helped Jake back to his knees, teasing him about being a first-time dad, and encouraged him to hold his baby girl.

Tears filled Jake’s eyes as he picked her up, her cries finally disappearing the moment she locked eyes with him as if she knew she was safe and sound in the arms of her father.

The tears fell down his cheeks, smiling big as he let out a soft chuckle, turning to face you as he rocked her in his arms, “She has the Park nose.”

You let out a small giggle because of course she does. You’ve never heard the end of how people knew you and Jay were related by similar noses. But you were glad she did have the Park nose.

The longer Jake stared down at his little girl, the more he saw himself in her. Mostly her eyes, the same beautiful brown that he has.

“We created this,” Jake cried, finally walking back to your side, “We created this beautiful piece of life.”

You reached for your daughter, Jake slowly and carefully placing her in your arms. And oh the sobs that escaped your mouth.

She was so beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful. She was a spitting image of Jake, with small hints of you.

Jake pulled a chair up to the bed, sitting as close to you as he could, wrapping his arm over your arms that held your daughter, his thumb grazing the back of your hand.

Her small eyes looked back at him and gave a small yawn. His heart nearly stopped, mouthing opening and voice speaking before he realized.

“Hwa Young,” he softly said.

You didn’t take your eyes off your daughter to know what Jake meant, “Beautiful Little Flower,” you whispered.

“Beautiful Little Flower,” Jake repeated, his smile growing again.

“Hwa Young Sim,” you smiled, finally turning to face your boyfriend, “Babe, it’s the perfect name.”

Jake quickly leaned over to kiss you, not being able to get enough of your lips on his at this moment. Hwa was finally here in both your arms, your little family finally completely together.

Hwa’s soft yawn had you two pulling away from each other, eyes filling with endearment at how her nose scrunches when she yawns.

You gently traced your fingers over her face, wanting to outline this moment in memory.

Jake watched as you did it, eyes going back and forth between you and Hwa. Knowing this is what he wanted for the rest of his life.

“YN?”

You looked up at your boyfriend, giving him a smile, “Hmm?”

“Let’s get married.”

You stare at him, tears filling his eyes once again as he leaned back in to kiss you more then slowly fell back into his seat.

“Let’s get married,” Jake repeated again, “Marry me.”

You cried again, nodding and chanting out strings of “Yes yes yes.”

This might have been Jake’s happiest moment of his life and knew this happiness was never going to fade. He has you. He has Hwa. He has Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, his older brother, and his parents. There’s nothing else Jake needed. He has it all now.

You started to ask where your brother was when the door to the hospital room flew open and everyone’s eyes went to the door.

Jay stood in the doorway, your duffle bag in hand.

“I came as quickly as I could, Heeseung and Sunghoon are…on the way.”

You smiled up at your brother as his eyes were locked into Hwa in your arms.

“Jongseong, my big brother, want to come meet your niece?”

Jay almost lost his balance, dropping the duffle bag to the floor and gripping to the wall. Jake couldn’t help but laugh.

“My niece?” Jay’s heart was pounding. He has a niece. He’s an uncle. Oh my god, he has a niece.

“We’re both fucked, brother,” Jake teased, “We are done for.”

Jay slowly walked over to your bedside, watching as you slowly lifted his niece up and into his arms. Jake was right, they both were fucked. Because the moment Jay fully held her in his arms and looked into those eyes, he was done for. Jay became putty in this little girl's hands. She has him wrapped around her finger and his entire world. The protection Jay felt for her was on the same level he had for you, and you could see it in his eyes as he held Hwa. That big brother protection spell overflowing onto her. It made you smile, knowing she would be so loved and protected like you are.

Jay fought to hold back his tears as he rocked her in his arms, “My sweet niece…”

“Hwa Young Sim,” Jake said with a big smile, “Beautiful Little Flower.”

Jay chuckled, “It fits her so well…Little Hwa. Oh my god, she has the Park nose.”

Everyone in the room laughed as Jay continued to coo over Hwa. Kissing her forehead softly and whispering how he’ll be the best uncle for her, to protect her with everything. It made tears swell back into your eyes.

Jay chuckled again, “She is a spitting image of you, Jake. An exact copy and paste, it’s crazy.”

Heeseung, Sunghoon, and even Shotaro rounded the corner of the door frame, the three of them immediately crumbling the moment they laid eyes on Hwa.

Baby girl has only been born for twenty minutes and she already has everyone in the room wrapped around her fingers and falling to their knees.

“We’re uncles!!” Sunghoon cheered, taking Hwa from Jay.

Jake and you watched as your parents pulled in one by one, everyone taking turns holding your daughter and showing her all the love she deserves.

Jake rests his forehead against yours, tangling his fingers around yours, “Baby?” he hummed, “Let’s have another one, ya?”

‧₊˚✧THE END✧˚₊‧

—tags: @ikeuverse @slutforsjy @hanjisunginc @alvojake @lhsvibez @wonsbaer @zeeloveshee @jjknoir @jaeyunq @jaklvbub @woniebae @jeongingf1 @haelahoops @willgrysn @in-somnias-world @lovelyikeu @ilikekpop-c @moonrachas @misssparklyprincess @eddieeddiesblog @kaykay11sworld @tasnim10 @kangnina @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @mymemoriesandmelodies @iselltulips @jooniesbears-blog @shawnyle @brownsugarbaybee @woahsehun @laurradoesloveu @citylightsdoll @simjyunnie @cmoundiamante @caramelcandescence @lavenderiridescence @niniissus @hearts4elle @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @fried-bread071696 @coolwitu @kyeoluvr @crimnalseung @jwnghyuns @woninluv @fakeuwus @simhinata

#jake bby #sim jaeyun #sim jake #reader x jake #jake x reader #reader x sim jake #sim jake x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #sim jake smut #established relationship #yeonzzzn writing #off limits trilogy

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saintobio · 1 month

Text

sincerely yours. (10)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,

notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3

series masterlist -> episode eleven

“It’s a little weird.”

What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming.

She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be.

Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now?

If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place?

She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you.

But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life?

Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all.

Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that?

“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”

“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”

The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”

I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?”

“Was he like that with you before?”

“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”

To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty.

“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.”

Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.

“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”

“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point.

Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?”

The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.”

“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”

The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.”

Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”

“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”

“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.”

He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.”

As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet.

The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.

Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”

Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”

“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused.

To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?”

Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons.

Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare.

— —

You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction.

To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.

You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband?

She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married.

Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.

Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else.

Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.

If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.

Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu.

You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal.

It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her.

As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman.

And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.

Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own.

Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.

If only you could be like her.

As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.

“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.”

A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?

“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse.

“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”

Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line.

“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots.

The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.”

Oh… “He bought more than one?”

Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony.

“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”

Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.

This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi.

There was no you in that vision anymore.

The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.

You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband?

Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one.

At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free.

Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them.

You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest.

Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?

“Giddy up!”

Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.

My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy.

Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.

“Ah!”

Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part.

“Willow!”

You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.

“Nooo! Willow, no!”

Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.

You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell.

“Willow!”

Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness!

You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all.

That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon.

— —

“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.

“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”

He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”

“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”

…

“Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.

“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”

“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”

“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!”

“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!”

The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension.

“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.”

You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”

Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you.

With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.”

To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place.

“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.”

Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy.

“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?”

There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.

But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat.

Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.

“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.”

Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.”

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”

“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…”

Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest.

“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.”

Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind.

It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right?

You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again.

You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself.

As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.”

That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever?

Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy.

The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital.

So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you?

“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed.

Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.”

You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son.

Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?

If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined.

And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse.

Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself?

The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage.

You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family.

Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight.

“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.”

You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?”

The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it.

“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.”

Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else.

Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired.

“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?”

She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.”

“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?”

“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.”

You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists.

Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there.

And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi.

“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”

You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera?

You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet.

“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.”

Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.”

Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life.

Both choices had no happy endings.

— —

When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind.

Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were?

He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse.

“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!”

“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?”

Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him?

According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them.

And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you.

Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in.

How sickeningly sweet.

At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality.

It was out of love that he let you go.

You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too.

Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife.

You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore.

So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses?

She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you.

He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off.

And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries.

This woman was all he needed.

But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider.

— —

The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important.

Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it?

You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman.

Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you.

How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it?

Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar.

How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life?

Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate?

God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third?

You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing.

“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions.

It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him.

“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”

Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you?

“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.”

Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”

You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget?

As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?”

“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart. “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.”

“Y/N.”

“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”

“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.”

“But—”

“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”

— —

It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore.

Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now.

He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway.

As for you, well…

“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?”

He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”

Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire.

These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor.

A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon?

Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news.

“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.”

Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?”

By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy.

“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son.

“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.”

Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?”

Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.”

Monaco? Why would you be there?

Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?”

“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”

No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself?

Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here.

Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth.

“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?

“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”

How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over?

“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”

Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now?

Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces?

Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.”

He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.

Yet none of it was given.

And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi?

#series: sincerely yours #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo angst #jjk angst

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slushycoookie · 2 months

Text

My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.1

Pt.1 - Pt.2

Relationship: Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 1956

Content: Smut, definitely smut, p in v, oral sex, overstimulation, belly bulge, breeding kink in FULL display, fertility issues, Minors DNI!!

Summary: You find out Miguel has a symbiote for the most unexpected reason.

A/N: I kept thinking about Symbiote! Miguel and I just had to do it. If yall saw that recent concept art of him, he looks fucking huge. So as a birthday present to myself, I wrote this. Something to get us by while I continue writing the Valentine's Day one.

Miguel had a symbiote.

You knew the first day he got it. He was acting strange. More aggressive, energetic, and driven to his Spider Society cause. Also rough. You knew it when he pulled you in for a passionate goodbye kiss.

Plus, he was huge. You didn't think it was possible for your husband to get a bigger size in his suit. It oozed a foreign entity. He was rougher with his enemies. Causing them to be bruised and bloody at the end of the battle. Your Miguel showed some restraint. You weren't sure what this Miguel was.

Jess told you at the end of the day, confirming your suspicions. “He has a symbiote.”

“I figured…” You played with the necklace that had your wedding band between your fingers. “How did he get it?”

“No clue. One day, he was his grouchy self. Next day, he was extra grouchy.”

“What can we do? We have ways to get rid of it.”

Jess gave you a knowing look, “You know it's not easy with symbiotes. The wearer has to get rid of it on their own. Part of the-”

“Canon event. I know…” You sighed. You weren't going to get scared. Be afraid for your husband's life. You would take the knowledge you knew now in stride, even if that meant dealing with the fact that your partner had an alien on his body.

You didn't confront him about the symbiote. You saw no need to. Ben and Jess were informed. You wanted them to watch him so he wouldn't go too far. But you didn’t like how he was acting. He never took it out on you, but everyone else was a different story. It was hard for you to sleep, knowing your husband was in control of an alien.

One night, he came home late. You were still awake, watching his hulking form linger throughout the house. If you were normal, you'd be terrified.

“Miguel?” You called from the hallway. He turned towards you. His mask was still up. The eyes were sharp, filled with an unknown emotion you couldn't grasp.

“Our wife.” His voice was deep, rumbling to your core. Sharp teeth and a long tongue caught your eye. He inched to you like a predator. You backed up, mind playing out hundreds of backup plans you had once you found out about his new form. You jumped when hitting a wall. Cornered as Miguel hovered above you. His head trailed up and down in fascination. “So pretty. To eat.”

“I said we're not eating her.” Half of Miguel's face appeared, causing you to relax a little. He was still in there. To a certain extent.

“Not the type of eating we were talking about.” The symbiote sized you up even more. You didn't know how to take that. Miguel entirely took over, his face in view.

“I'm sorry. I'm still getting the hang of this.”

“Why did you do this?” You motioned to all of him, “For a man who doesn't play when it comes to canon events, you go ahead and play around with an alien.”

Miguel sucked his teeth, “I had a good reason, baby.” You blinked, waiting for him to come up with a good explanation. He shifted, his large form shaking the photos on the wall. You couldn't see any reason for him to form with a symbiote.

“I thought…it would help in our process of trying to have a baby.”

You froze. The extensive trials you and Miguel went through in trying for a baby were unsuccessful. He knew about your fertility issues. He knew before you got married. You didn’t expect him to go and fuse with a symbiote to boost the rate of being able to have a baby.

“The symbiote enhances my body.” Miguel explained, “Maybe we could try to use it to help us conceive.”

“Won’t the symbiotes…genes get in…?” You placed a hand on your stomach, not believing that you were considering it.

“No. It won’t affect any of our genes. It just increases the output.”

You scoffed, “So you would have super sperm?”

“In a way.” Miguel shrugged, hovering over you. You noticed how small you were compared to him. Your thighs squeezed together at the sight. “We should try it. See what happens.”

Common sense was starting to leave the window. Just having Miguel’s hulking frame above you, his eyes lowered in lust, was not helping. You were curious yourself. Would the symbiote help you finally be able to conceive? So your family can get bigger?

“You want me to have sex with the symbiote?”

Miguel chuckled, face down to your neck, taking in your delicate scent. “It’s still me. I promise.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders. His suit was sticky and you felt restraint when tried to remove your hands. You had no idea what you were doing. But it was your husband. You trusted him, knowing he wouldn’t harm you. So you had to take a leap. Literally. Miguel was so large you had to jump to even kiss him.

Your body flushed against his own as his tongue dove into your mouth. You were so caught up in kissing him, absorbed in how his hands groped and felt you, to realize you were in your bedroom.

You yelped when landing on the bed. Miguel's form hit the ceiling, standing at the edge. Waiting.

“Strip.” The voice was back again. Low, deep, and commanding. You blushed at how much that turned you on. Even with the monstrous teeth and all. You weren't wearing much besides a t-shirt and shorts, tossing them into darkness. Only remaining in your panties.

Miguel cupped himself, eyes trained on the prize between your legs. “All of it.”

You slid down your underwear at a slow pace. Even if you were about to get bred by a symbiote, you knew Miguel would still go crazy over your teasing. Pride swelled in your chest as his breathing became ragged. Every ounce of resistance he had in fucking you into the ground was waning. It wasn't until your panties were thrown aside that he pounced on you.

The bed creaked at the extra size. Miguel's symbiote used its long tongue over your neck, tasting the slight sweat. Your breasts, twirling at one nipple while his fingers pinched the other. Before going down to your stomach and over what he wanted most.

“We deserve to know how you taste…”

If you could squeeze your thighs together right now, you would. But your partner kept them separated. Spread wide enough for him to get a full view of your dripping sex. The tongue was back as it was his turn to tease you. Gliding along your inner thighs, not touching an inch of your cunt. You whined at how close he was. You tried to move your thighs to get him where you wanted but to no avail.

“Please…” You swallowed, heaving at the lack of touch. “Don’t tease…”

A guttural growl resonated in the room, which made you quiver even more. “You're so pretty when you beg.”

His tongue was heaven. Taking turns licking at your sensitive bud, thrusting in and out of your hole. Slurping sounds letting you know how much he loved tasting your cunt. You weren't sure if digging your hands into his covered head was a good idea so your hands fisted the pillows. Head back and unable to control your sounds of pleasure.

“Miguel…oh my…” You felt that familiar sensation rise in your stomach. Not stopping as he continued to please you. And you accepted it, climaxing for him. This was different from your normal Miguel. While he did make you see stars, this one was determined to make you see God. The way he didn’t stop after you came for him, eating your pussy like a starved man. When you tried to have the strength to pull away, his hand placed flat on your stomach. Overstimulation crept in as you shook under his hold. Thank goodness he pulled away, showing you his mouth glistening in the moonlight.

“We need you. Now.”

Your eyes widened when seeing his cock on full display. Miguel was big. Very big. Cock enlarged, veiny, pre cum beading around the tip. He was going to kill you if he put that thing inside.

“Where?” You gulped, pushing back your rising fear.

Miguel sat back against the headboard and settled you into his lap. Your back lay against his chest, staring at the gigantic cock. He grabbed a hold of your thighs, lifting and spreading you as wide as he could. You bit your lip as his dick slid against your sex, coating himself in your arousal. You couldn't do much in this position. Besides lie back and take it.

You shook as he entered you. Arms around his neck and digging into them as you sank down. Your mouth gaped, but nothing came out.

“Come on.” Miguel pushed, his own voice coming out a little tense. “You can take more…”

You clawed at his neck, sinking down further. It was to the point where there was a slight bulge in your belly. Which has never happened before. Once he bottomed out, he gave you time to adjust. You knew Miguel was being gentle, his arm muscles tense as he didn’t want to hurt you. You nodded when you were ready and he took control. He slid you all the way up, only leaving the tip of his cock inside before thrusting up into you.

He was massive. Easily filling you up while he pumped inside. Tears brimmed in your eyes. There was no coherent thought in your mind. With each intoxicating thrust, you couldn’t think. All you wanted was for him to keep going. To use you like this as long as he wanted.

Your eyes rolled back when his cock hit a perfect spot. Not feeling any of your lower body. “M-Mig…”

“We have you. Pretty little thing…” His face snuggled against your head, still maintaining the hard and sharp thrusts. Miguel’s suit made a tendril, slithering over to you to give more attention to your aching clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation. The familiar burning of your release was quickly rising again into something more. You struggled in Miguel’s hold, wanting to move away and escape your impending doom.

“Don’t…You’re gonna make me…” You whined, frantic breaths escaping.

“We want you to do it.”

There was no room for negotiation. Between the exhilarating way his cock stretched you and the advance on your clit, you were going to explode. You cried for your husband while soaking his cock with your fluids. Tightening around him for his seed. Aching to have him breed you. Miguel’s grunts turned into growls. Grating noises that shook the entire room. His thrusts were rough as now he was chasing his original goal. To pump his cum into you.

You didn’t move, watching your husband desperately paint you inside. There were one, two, three more thrusts before he let out a roar. His seed filled you up perfectly. It was so much that it was leaking out, even as Miguel tried to thrust more in. You didn't know what else to do if you didn’t get pregnant by this.

Once Miguel had his fill, he slipped out, placing you to the side. His face was back as he peppered your own with soft kisses.

“You okay?” You hummed, your throat a little sore. He held you close in a protective way, not wanting to let go for a moment. “Hopefully this works.”

“If it doesn’t…” You struggled to say with your raspy voice, “you’re getting rid of that thing.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara x reader #slushycoookie writes

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hedgehog-moss · 6 months

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Last Sunday in October, a story in five parts :)

i. The guy who owns the pasture next to mine took his cows back to their winter lodgings the other day, and told me I could let my llamas eat what was left of the grass if I wanted. That was sweet of him but his pasture's fence is cow-proof, not llama-proof, so I had to wait for a sunny day, so I could sit with a book nearby and keep an eye on the llamas Pampe. Today was the day!

Pampy looked happy about this unexpected change of scenery and started grazing peacefully, meanwhile Pampe started with exploring the whole pasture, including the patch of woods at the back, hoping to find a flaw in the fence.

(Note Poldine below, desperately running after her mum so she won't be left behind if Pampe does find an opportunity to escape)

ii. I found some impressive coulemelles in this new pasture (I don't know any mushroom names in English sorry.) I cut one to take to the pharmacy and ask if they're the good kind (here with my hand for scale)

They're also known as nez de chat, cat's nose mushrooms, in some regions...

I found some girolles nearby last year, but not this time. The llamas seemed to be on their best behaviour so I thought after lunch I'd go look for mushrooms farther away in the woods, down by the torrent, instead of watching them all day.

Poldine, watch your mother.

I asked Merricat if she was volunteering her services as a llama-sitter (it looked like it)

—but she suspected I was going home where the fire is, so she followed me. (I don't make a fire on sunny afternoons, though... she had to nap in my cardigan instead. Not as good, but a tolerated second-best option.)

iii. I took Pan with me after lunch so he wouldn't encourage Pampe in mischief, and he was uncharacteristically audacious in his frolicking! He doesn't like water and he's usually quite prudent when we're near the torrent, even scolding me if I climb on mossy rocks, but today he was jumping from one slippery rock to the other very boldly.

As I was taking this nice waterfall photo, I heard a very dramatic high-pitched squeal followed by a dramatic splashing sound, and when I turned around Pandolf was dragging himself out of the torrent, looking, as we say in french, honteux et confus.

I'm sorry that his bout of audacious frolicking had to end this way :( Back to frolicking gingerly for at least a couple of years... (His fur is magical though, he looks like a drowned rat at first but then shakes himself twice and is immediately back to a normal volume of floof. So his dignity doesn't suffer for long, at least.)

iv. I found no mushrooms but something even better!

I love chestnuts so much, I've been hoping to find chestnut trees for years but was starting to think they just don't grow at this altitude... But I suck at identifying trees so it's very possible I walked past them dozens of times and never recognised them when it wasn't chestnut season.

You really have to earn every chestnut, even with the crushing-under-your-boot method to squeeze them out you still have to extricate them from their burr going ow ow ow the whole time. The worst thing is when you kill your fingers opening a reticent burr and it resentfully spits out a bunch of sad deflated worthless chestnuts.

Still, I ended up going home with chestnuts in every single one of my pockets. When we got out of the woods and back on the road Pandolf and I ran into a woman we don't know (so, not a close neighbour) and we started talking about foraging and I wondered if I should tell her about the nearby chestnut spot. But those things are private. No one told me about the chestnut spot even after I made increasingly heavy casual hints about how much I love chestnuts. After a while though I started suspecting this lady knew about the spot and was on her way there. Or on her way back, through a different path. She looked shifty. So did I. It's very possible that we were both standing there in the middle of the road with our coat pockets crammed with chestnuts, making pointedly non-chestnut-related small talk.

v. I went home and started making chestnut-pumpkin soup while dodging constant coordinated chicken attacks. At first they act like they're napping on a conveniently-nearby chair, or looking the other way, and as soon as you stop distrusting their intentions, they pounce, often from two different directions.

Side plot: Pandolf spent this whole time desperately trying to catch a cat, to restore his self-confidence after falling in the torrent.

Morille went from strolling casually on top of the fence to lounging casually in the hazel tree above my head, making it look like she hadn't even noticed she was being chased, which was very frustrating for Pandolf. Nothing wounds a dog like going unnoticed.

I told Morille it would make him happy if she let him catch her, and she was like eh, fine, and elegantly jumped from the hazel tree to the top of the stone wall.

Pandolf immediately followed, poked her a bit brutally with his big nose, and then he didn't know what else to do with her once he caught her so he just wagged his tail like "Well played, cat!! It was nice chasing you" and left.

v. bis (or ter) I want to reassure Pirlouit fans (who might have noticed that he wasn't allowed to graze in the neighbour's pasture with the llamas) that he knows he's entitled to fair compensation as a donkey, and he stood behind the fence the whole time I was preparing my soup, patiently waiting for his pumpkin benefits. Which he did get.

I found some leftover chestnuts in my trouser pocket tonight, that I'd forgotten about, so I'm having stove-roasted chestnuts for dessert after the chestnut soup! Chestnuts were 90% of my dinner and were also the reason Pandolf got dinner. I ran out of dog kibble and I was thinking of giving him a hard-boiled egg and some rice tonight, and go buy kibble tomorrow, but on our way back this afternoon we stopped by our closest neighbour's house and I humbly offered a handful of chestnuts in exchange for one serving of kibble. The neighbour's dog didn't look enchanted with our offer but his human agreed. I usually trade with my chicken's eggs but this woman has hens so I'm glad chestnuts are also accepted as valid currency.

#crawling along #i love numbered lists but i really should stop using them in my posts because i always end up adding extra stuff at the end 😭

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haeryna · 3 months

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the purest shade of white ↪ okkotsu yuuta x reader ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼

summary: yuuta looks almost like an angel, you think to yourself grimly, as you shift on the balls of your feet. you haven't seen your best friend in a couple years now, not since he left for africa. too bad he's attempting to kill the kouhai that you're trying to protect.

tw: manga spoilers! anime watchers, do not read. mild angst but happy ending. starts at the beginning of ch. 139. naoya zenin is here and he is his classic asshole self. reader is in the same grade as yuuta, both in age and in terms of cursed energy. swearing because reader is a bad bitch. mildly suggestive. unironic use of "senpai" and "kouhai." slight descriptions of blood and injury, everyone is subjected to the author's attempts at writing dialogue and fight scenes. not proofread but at this point that shouldn't be a surprise. it is blatantly obvious that the writer also does not know how to end stories

notes: thank you for 100 new friends! :) poll is technically still up but i'm impatient and yuuta was winning by a pretty decent margin so here it is lol. divider by @/saradika-graphics!

"Yuuji!" you yelp, slicing the head off a curse with a clean stroke of your katana. Purple ichor splatters to the ground as you whirl, searching for the familiar head of pink hair. "Stay close to me!"

Behind you, Choso grunts with exertion, sending out another bolt of Piercing Blood. Panting, you weave through the curses, letting their corpses fall behind you. Yuuji, where is Yuuji?

As the last body falls, you can't but let out an exasperated huff at the sheepish grin on Yuuji's face. "Don't scare me like that," you chide. "How am I supposed to protect you if I can't even find you?" Yuuji opens his mouth to protest but you shake your head. "I made a promise," you tell him, pain rippling through your heart dully. Gojo-sensei was long gone, stolen away by one of the people he had loved most in the world. Grimacing, you sheathe your katana, mindful of the blood that stains your palms, as you try to ignore the memory of his words all those months ago.

If anything happens, I need you to protect Itadori Yuuji. I know they're going to pull something on him once I'm not there to back him up.

"Senpai, what should-"

Yuuji immediately tenses as your hand flies to the grip of your katana. "I smell a rat," you mutter, nose wrinkling as you turn to face Naoya Zenin, standing atop a bridge. He bares his teeth at you in semblance of a smile. "How perceptive as always," he mocks.

"Cut the bullshit," you snap, hand still resting on the pommel. "What do you want?"

"Fushiguro Megumi," is his rather bland response, and you shift your feet into the opening steps of Flowing River.

"What do you want with Fushiguro?" Yuuji yells, and the way Naoya's face twists makes you want to vomit.

"I think I'll have him die."

Cursed energy fills your body as you leap. Naoya's resounding cackle burns through your ears as you swing, barely grazing his shoulder. Before you can push forward off your feet, a heavy presence rests on your shoulders, locking you in place. All four of you freeze. Yuuji and Choso look horrified, and Naoya looks as though he's broken out into a cold sweat. But you know this feeling, feel it settle back into your body as if it never left.

Okkotsu Yuuta steps out from the building ledge, dark eyes unreadable. Your body sings. Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta! His hair has grown longer, bangs sweeping over his forehead, eyebags a little darker than they used to be. You can feel Rika's presence, swirling around you in a mass of death and decay. You're used to it. You've grown to crave it, even. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, his facade cracks. Confusion, fear, and...regret?

Yuuta leaps, slamming into concrete and sending shockwaves deep into your bones. "Who's with Itadori?" God, even his voice is different, so different from the boy who said goodbye to you so long ago. You open your mouth to speak, but Choso beats you to it, brows furrowed.

"So you're Yuuji's executioner."

Blood turns to ice in your veins, and you can tell by the pained expression Yuuta has that you aren't hiding your emotions as well as you think you are. Naoya laughs. "I was going to tell you that, but you were being too emotional like the bitch you are."

"Who're you?"

Yuuta's voice is cold, but as Naoya babbles on, you can feel the horror settle thickly into your chest. Choso and Yuuji are talking behind you but it feels like you're underwater, you're sinking, drowning, and Yuuta must have come to a conclusion because all of a sudden he's surging forward-

You move before you can even think, steel clashing against steel. "Yuuji," you say, through gritted teeth. "Run."

A horrible grating noise fills the air as you let cursed energy flow through your body, shoving Yuuta's sword away from yourself. "I won't let you kill him," you hiss, body already shifting into Jagged Bolt. Yuuta's eyes flash as you surge forward, katana in hand.

"How would you describe my cursed technique?" you had asked Gojo, mindlessly swinging your feet. Gojo hums.

"Have you ever heard of Newton's Law's of Motion?"

You had crinkled your nose at that. "No?"

"An object in motion, stays in motion. Except you are the object. And your cursed energy is the motion." You remember how Gojo's lips curved slightly. "In other words, once you start, nobody can stop you."

You're crying, you realize with a start, as you cut a line into Yuuta's chest. Moisture seeps from your eyes as you twist your forearm into a parry, katanas sparking with each strike. Belatedly, you sense that Yuuji, your foolish, stupid, loyal kouhai has stayed, trading strikes with his fists between the precise movements of your blade. Your heart drops as Yuuta reaches for the ring on his finger.

No. No!

He twists it, and Rika appears behind you. Claws sink into your shoulder and you let out a cry of pain as she flips you into the ground.

"Be nice, Rika," Yuuta chides, as you hit the concrete. Blood spurts from your mouth as you choke, fingers clawing at the ground desperately for your katana. A piece of scaffolding is practically crushing your legs; instinctively, you know that if you try to break through it, you'll tear your limbs right off.

As Rika holds Yuuji up, you lunge desperately, uncaring of what you have to sacrifice. Inumaki's arm, the way half of Nobara's face had been practically ripped out of her skull, the remains of Nanami-san, the way that you were the one to find Maki's charred body-

I can't lose anyone else.

You scream as Yuuta pierces Yuuji's chest with his katana, cursed energy building in your legs as you prepare to shoot forward. Yuuta turns, eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion as he sees you about to tear yourself in half just to reach Yuuji.

With a wave of his hand, Rika dives for you, and everything goes dark.

Yuuta had known you were special from the day he'd first met you. That spring, when Gojo-sensei had dropped him (and Rika) into a class of unsuspecting first years, he remembers that out of the four of them, you had moved so gracefully that he hadn't processed the katana in your hand until you'd pressed it against your throat.

"Gojo-sensei," you'd hissed. "What is this?"

While Maki, Inumaki, and Panda had been subsequently bruised up by Rika, you had dodged every single one of her movements until Rika had been (barely) called back by Yuuta.

"Another Special Grade," Gojo had hummed. "Just like you, hm?"

Special Grade?

What he hadn't realized then, he realized later; you weren't just special to him, but to the entire rest of the Jujutsu World as well. Special Grade Sorcerers were rare, Maki had told him. "You only have it because of Rika," she'd scoffed, "but she deserves it."

You quickly became one of his closest friends. You were fast enough to dodge Rika's ire, even laughing whenever she tried. You'd shown Yuuta kindness that he didn't think he deserved. You broke him out of his shell enough so that when he left for Africa, he felt as though he was standing with his own strength. His first katana had been the sister blade of your own, forged from the same metal by the same hands. The way your eyes had lit up when you saw it was a memory he cherished.

Somberly, Yuuta eyes the chains encasing your wrists and ankles, each decorated with the slips of protective paper that would nullify your cursed energy. Most sorcerers required only one. You required at least twenty.

He knows you, knows the way you always take the strawberry daifuku, leaving him the red bean ones even though he knows you prefer the red bean. He knows that you push yourself hard, harder than he's ever seen anyone work. But most of all, he knows your loyalty, how once your heart finally lets someone in, you'll never let them go.

Did you miss him like he missed you?

The chains are more for your own protection. He needs you to hear him out before you attempt to end his life for a second time. Yuuta knows now that Gojo must have asked you the same thing he'd asked him; to keep Itadori Yuji safe from the whims of the higher ups. Gojo, being the forgetful bastard he was, probably didn't alert you to the fact that he'd gone to Yuuta for help as well. Crouching, Yuuta eyes your body with a sad tilt of his lips. The injuries you'd sustained were immense, and it had taken quite a bit of his own cursed energy to reverse.

Will you forgive him?

You're asleep, breath hitching every so often. Yuuta wonders what you're dreaming of, before pushing the thought away. Tenderly, he cups your face in the palm of his hand, calloused fingers stroking your cheek.

"You need to wake up now," he murmurs, as your eyes flutter open, first in dazed confusion, before sharpening into panic.

"I'll miss you!" you'd cried, as you clung to Yuuta under the shade of the large oak. You were the first person he had told about his departure to Africa, and you took it hard. Yuuta had stood frozen as the first of your tears had dripped down your cheeks. It was the first time he'd seen you cry.

"I'll be back before you know it," he'd murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You'd looked up to him, eyes teary.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he'd said, interlocking his pinky with your own. A love like Yuuta's is a dangerous thing, you know, but in this moment you feel nothing but safe.

The first sensation you feel upon awakening is the dull ache in your (miraculously still attached) legs. The second is the warmth on your cheek. Yuuta is standing above you, hand gently resting against your face. Immediately you lunge forward, teeth bared. The rattle of chains stops you, and you swear. Of course he would have taken precautions. Yuuta looks almost hurt as you violently shake off his touch.

"Don't touch me, I swear to god I'm going to rip you apart."

Yuuta says your name sadly, but you're practically trembling with rage.

"He was just a kid, with the kind of power we wield, why the fuck would you listen to the higher ups?"

Yuuta echoes your name a bit more firmly, but you ignore him, tears building in your eyes.

"You're no better than the rest of them are you, you're just-"

"Senpai!"

Your heart stops as Yuuji pokes his head out from around the corner. They must have brought you back to Jujutsu Tech, you think distractedly. Just how long were you out?

"Yuuji!" you cry out, scanning his body for any injuries. He seems to be uninjured, but most importantly, he's alive. Tears fall down your cheeks. "Are you alright?"

Yuuji appears horrified by the sudden outburst as he hastily holds up his hands. "I'm fine, senpai, really, I'm sorry for worrying you. Okkotsu-san is actually on our side, I swear! It was a binding vow, that's why he had to actually kill me, but he did some really cool Reverse Technique shit and I'm all good now!"

Warily, you eye Yuuta, whose expression resembles that of a kicked puppy. "Okkotsu Yuuta," you say, voice hard. "Let me out of these chains right fucking now."

With a wave of his hand, the papers attached to the chains fall to the floor. Yuuta looks dejected as he looks away from you. "I'm so sor-"

Before he can finish you immediate tackle him into a hug, knocking the both of you into the floor as you bury your face into the soft slope of his neck. "You're such an idiot," you sob, unable to hide the rush of emotions going through you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tentatively, Yuuta wraps his arms around you, and you melt, pressing yourself closer to his body. "To be honest, I think Gojo-sensei is to blame. I think he forgot to mention to either of us that he asked us to do the exact same thing."

You let out a hiccupping laugh. "Of course he did. That forgetful asshole."

The sigh Yuuta lets out is shaky as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry," he tells you earnestly. "I must have scared you, and Rika's mad at me for making me hurt you like that. I think she likes you, even though she pretends not to."

You look up at him, really look at him, and see the look of adoration in his eyes as he stares back down at you. Thankfully Yuuji's escaped long ago, most likely understanding that you two would need privacy. "You came back," you whisper, and Yuuta's resulting smile makes your heart skip a beat.

"I promised you, didn't I?"

Before you can stop yourself, you pull Yuuta down for a searing kiss. He's so soft, and you nip at the plush of his bottom lip teasingly, pulling a whine from his throat. His large hands grip your hips, and in retaliation, you grab a fistful of his hair and tug. The breathy noise he makes goes straight between your thighs. You know he can feel your smile against his lips.

"I missed you," you breathe, pulling away. Yuuta looks dazed, lips kiss swollen, pupils so dilated that you can barely see the soft brown of his eyes.

"I love you," he blurts out, and your resulting laugh is airy as you press another chaste kiss to his lips.

"I've always loved you, Yuuta," you admit. "During Shibuya, I thought I wasn't going to make it. You were the only thing keeping me going."

The look in his eyes is fierce as he tugs you back into him, enveloping you in his arms. "You'll never have to worry about that again. You have my entire life. Where you go, I'll follow, and if I die, not even Death would be able to separate me from your side."

"Those sound a lot like wedding vows, don't you think?"

Yuuta's blush covers his entire face and you grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "Come on now. We have kids we need to protect."

As Yuuta leads you to where the others have convened, even under the dark circumstances you're in, the warmth of his hand clutching yours fills you with a giddiness you hadn't experienced in months. The sentiment is quickly dashed as soon as Maki opens her mouth.

"Fucking finally. Inumaki owes me 3,000 yen."

#haerinwrites #jjk x reader #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk angst #jjk fluff #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #i'm actually maki with the fucking finally #i love friends to lovers !!

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tenelkadjowrites · 2 months

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The Heart's Filthy Lesson - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🪓Summary: Your best friend has always been dedicated to you. But isn't everyone's best friend like that?

🪓Word count: 15k

🪓Playlist for this fic can be found here.

🪓Genre & warnings: one shot smut. (twisted) best friends to lovers. unreliable narrator. elements of horror. descriptions of stalking against the reader, violence against others (not the reader), unhealthy relationship dynamics. dom hwa. dirty talk. underwear is torn off reader. oral sex, reader receiving. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to get it into the lock without dropping your overstuffed bag. Why do I overpack so much? You curse inwardly. Every time, you swear that only essentials will be packed. Somehow, that ends up meaning enough underwear for a month and clothes for three different outfits a day even when you’re just visiting family.

You manage to get the key in the lock, practically tumbling inside your small apartment on the third story. Unceremoniously dumping your bag on the floor, you let out a long sigh. Like all family visits, you’re glad for them but also socially drained.

Padding into your living room, you wince a little. Way too much light in here, you think, I thought for sure I closed the blinds when I left. You turn around, fighting off the urge to take a nap. The trip is catching up to you, leaving you tired.

But you stand in the middle of the room, feeling a strange sense of unease. The living room looks entirely the same yet you cannot shake the sensation that something is different. It’s just cuz I thought I had closed the blinds. But the words ring hollow in your head.

In the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, you can distantly hear the traffic outside and the neighbor upstairs moving something heavy around. Your eyes slowly look across your kitchen counters before landing on a small pile of mail.

Curiously, you walk towards it, picking up the stack. There is a small sticky note stuck to the top with just a quickly drawn smiley face on it, the ink smeared into the paper on one side. Frowning, you peel it off and go through the mail. All of it is from when you were gone –

A knock on the door makes you jump, pressing your hand against your chest for a second. The pile of mail drops back to the counter, scattering across it as you go to the door. You don’t check who it is. You already know.

Opening the door, you find yourself face to face with your overly enthusiastic best friend.

“Hey, I remembered you were supposed to be back around this time so I figured I’d come over to say hi.”

“Hi, Seonghwa,” You say, already moving to the side to let him in.

He glances over his shoulder at you while heading into the living room. “How was the trip? How was your family? Did you tell them that I said hi?” Every word is said quickly, as if they are all fighting for importance and can’t decide what order to pop out in.

You push the door closed, trailing after him. You’ve known Seonghwa longer than anyone else in your life – he used to live next door where you befriended one another at just six years old. You went to the same high school, even the same college and when you decided to move to the city, so did he. You lived on different sides of the city at first until a year ago, when the apartment building finally had an opening and now he lived just one floor under yours. The two of you were a team – you knew everything about him and he never forgot a detail about you. Things were comfortable…although maybe a little too comfortable.

You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “You brought my mail in.”

He turns to look at you, smiling brightly. Seonghwa always had the same countenance – pleasant and happy. “Yeah, of course.”

“I don’t remember giving you a key.”

“Oh, your plant needs watering.” He leans over and touches the wilting leaves gently, already moving past the fact he let himself into your place without asking. “Want me to do it?” He looks up at you.

You sigh, walking towards him. “Seonghwa,” You touch his hand gently, trying to get his attention.

His expression falters just for a moment before guilt pops in behind his eyes. Seonghwa looks tired, although that isn’t new, because he’s always on his computer at all times of the day and night. He glances downward at where your fingers had grazed his skin for a split second. His profile is so familiar to you – the sharp curve of his jaw, the long nose, his perfectly plump lips hiding perfect teeth. This is the same man you’ve grown up with your entire life. You know objectively he is beautiful but you’ve known him for so long that it no longer catches your notice. From the time he got in trouble for pushing a kid bullying you at the playground when you were both eight years old to sneaking out while in high school to go drink to this very moment, he’s always been there. That’s why you dislike whenever you come off as though you’re lecturing him.

“It was from two weeks ago. Remember? I had to let the plumbers in for you,” Seonghwa protests.

“You’re supposed to give the key back,” You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers.

He ducks his head, some of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at the sagging plant. “It’s in my place. I don’t keep it on me.”

“Fine,” You sigh, “Next time, okay?”

Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip for a second before his eyes lock on yours. “It happened six months ago. I mean, don’t you think – I think I’ve done a good job at not crossing a boundary since then.”

You hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation today. But maybe that is your own fault for constantly putting it off. It isn’t even that you’re mad at him anymore. But coming home late one night to find him passed out drunk in your bed after using your key to get in just felt like shattering a boundary. You took your key back after that, giving your best friend a dressing down even though he was apologizing profusely.

“I mean, you technically weren’t supposed to use the key to drop off my mail,” You point out.

His cheeks flush. “I was trying to be helpful,” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your face.

You sigh, knowing you’re going to give in. That is how it usually worked with Seonghwa. He was always the overzealous best friend, eager to help you even to the extent that it resulted in too much on his own plate.

“I know,” You reply, “And I appreciate it.”

His face lights up, all earlier guilt and tension erased immediately. Seonghwa immediately begins to pepper you with questions about the trip back home, leaving the earlier conversation about boundaries long passed. You aren’t sure if anything you said even sunk into his head. Likely not, you think.

After all, you know Seonghwa so well. You know what sticks to him.

“Hey!” The familiar chipper voice snaps you out of your mindless phone scrolling.

It’s two days later, after work, and you’re meeting Seonghwa for a coffee. The key issue is long forgotten, overtaken by the daily events of life that naturally take more importance than your best friend helpfully bringing in your mail.

He’s pushing through the crowd of people that have formed looking for a late afternoon caffeine boost. It had begun snowing earlier and there are a few snowflakes melting in his hair. His brown jacket hangs off his thin frame, the same jacket he’s had for easily a decade because he doesn’t care enough to buy a new one. It’s well worn, fraying at the seams near the elbows, and you’ve seen it against the backdrop of a multitude of different coffee shops.

“Am I late?” He stands by the table, looking down at you, not paying attention to the man trying to get past him while carefully balancing two cups of coffee in his hands.

“No. Even if you were, it’s okay. I was waiting for you before I got anything.”

You move to get up but Seonghwa shakes his head quickly. “No, no,” He nudges you back in the seat gently, “I’ll go order for us. It’s too crowded.” He is looking in your eyes. “I know what you like.”

He’s gone then, back in the crowd, moving towards the counter. You watch him go, turning your attention back to your phone. Ten minutes later, Seonghwa returns, handing you the coffee and sliding into the seat across from yours. The table is crammed in the corner, a clear attempt to try to fit more seats inside since the snow is coming down.

“I’m getting sensory overload in here,” You remark when someone smacks your arm with their laptop bag on accident.

“Do you want to go?” Seonghwa leans forward, “We can go if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s fine,” You shake your head, “I should have given more consideration to the time, I guess. How are you?”

He drums his fingers against the table while answering. “Fine. The usual. How was work?”

“The usual too. That project I’ve been stuck working on finishes next week – ow,” You wince as someone else hits your arm while squeezing through the tight space between your table and the next.

Seonghwa reacts like lightning, too quick for you to even say anything. His hand reaches for the strap of the man’s bag and he gives a sharp tug on it. “Hey!” He snaps and the man looks over his shoulder with wide eyes, “Pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Seonghwa, it’s fine –”

“I’d rather walk in the snow than be in here,” He says curtly, grabbing his coffee cup and gesturing for you to follow.

You do, and out in the cold, let out a small sigh of relief. Alright, maybe the idea of leaving the crowded coffee shop was the right choice. The soft layer of snow that is forming across everything is ruined by the many feet trampling over it hurrying to get home after work.

But you walk slowly along the sidewalk with Seonghwa, neither of you speaking for a few minutes. You glance out of the corner of your eye to find him looking at you.

He clears his throat quickly and asks, “What were you trying to say in there?”

“Oh, the project. It’s winding down next week. I’m relieved.”

Someone cuts in between the two of you and when Seonghwa moves back closer, he is no longer looking in your direction. “Is the project leader still texting you outside of work?”

You blink, a little surprised he remembers such a small detail from a few months ago. “Yeah, sometimes. But it isn’t anything unprofessional.”

Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly red from the cold. He is holding the coffee cup tightly for warmth. “He might ask you out when the project is done.”

“Maybe,” You reply with a shrug, “We’ll see.”

Your best friend falls silent. The look in his eyes is from a thousand miles away for a couple of seconds before it snaps back into focus. “Would you say yes?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how I feel when it happens.” You hadn’t given it a lot of thought.

There is another silence which is unusual for Seonghwa who usually fills the conversation easily. But he seems to be mulling something over and is lost in thought – a rarity.

“What about you?”

His head snaps up, looking at you. “What do you mean?”

A lone snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose. You lean forward and brush it off. The gesture comes automatically, instilled from years of friendship. You’ve brushed a thousand snowflakes off his face and shoulders over the many winters spent hanging out.

“That woman at the coffee shop was flirting with you a few weeks back,” You then frown, “But we haven’t been back since. We could’ve gotten you a date.”

Seonghwa turns his face away from yours, slowing his pace down a little while watching the rush hour traffic grow larger on the road.

“No, I’m good.”

Coming to a stop at the crosswalk, you nudge his shoe with yours. “You haven’t been on a single date in ages.”

“So?” He turns to look at you, his eyes wide and questioning.

“Nothing, you just work a lot from home, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you to miss out something fun because of that.”

“Trust me, I’m not. I just am not interested in awkward dates.” He bounces on the heels of his shoes for a couple of seconds until the crosswalk turns green and he takes off like a shot.

This is typical of Seonghwa’s walking speed and you try to keep up. “Was I overstepping?”

“No,” He replies swiftly, his energy bubbling underneath the surface, “But I had a string of very awkward dates all last year and I need a break from them.” He runs his fingers through his hair, still walking at a brisk pace.

“Right, I get that. I didn’t mean to come off like I was lecturing –”

Seonghwa stops suddenly, so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet. “You never come off like you’re lecturing,” He says, reaching out to help steady you, “I understand you just want what is best for me.”

“Right,” The word sends up a tiny puff of air from the cold, “You’re in your apartment a lot except when you’re with me. That’s all.”

Seonghwa’s hand is still on your arm but the grip is so loose that you can’t even feel it through the thick jacket. His nails are bitten to the quick. He lowers his hand once he knows you’re not going to fall over.

He flashes a quick grin, the same expression you’ve seen a thousand times. Your shoulders relax, knowing he isn’t upset with you.

“Is that so bad? Maybe I just wanna hang out with my best friend right now.”

“No, there isn’t anything wrong with it. I just need to make sure you’re doing alright though. You’d do the same for me.”

Seonghwa’s grin softens and he gently punches you on the shoulder. “Yeah, of course I would. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He straightens up. “Now, come on. Enough discussing how I prefer to be indoors all day. Mental check-in complete. Ask me again in six weeks.”

“Right,” You are smiling, your concerns about Seonghwa spending too much time alone now allayed.

“Let’s get home, alright? I’m freezing.”

The conversation resumes, the ebb and flow always the same, some topics circled back so often over the course of time that they feel more like well read books with their spines bent than anything exciting. But you like that with Seonghwa.

With him, what you see is what you get.

“Nope, not Mario Party,” Seonghwa shakes his head, stretched out on the couch in his apartment, “You turn into someone I don’t even know when you play that. Half the time, I think you’re gonna tear my face off.”

You scoff. “Come on. That isn’t true.”

“Yes, it is. Think about last time.”

Shifting awkwardly on the couch, you avoid his eyes. “Whatever,” You mumble, remembering cursing him out for stealing your star.

It’s a week later and you’re trying to unwind from the stresses of work. The project finished yesterday which meant some relief. It is almost a routine now to pop over to Seonghwa’s, play a video game and unwind – to the point where neither of you ask to confirm, it just happens.

His place is organized and tidy, in a way that you could never hope to replicate. A shelf lined with books is next to the TV, with another one filled with his Legos he builds to unwind. His computer with dual monitors is in the corner, the chair pushed out from where he hastily got up once work finished for the day. The apartment is comforting.

Seonghwa gives you a knowing look and you drop the subject, aware he is right. He runs his fingers through his hair before turning his attention to the TV, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You hear from that client? The one who is clearly interested in you?” He asks suddenly, staring at the TV while booting up Netflix.

Surprised, you glance at him and shift a bit in your spot on the couch. “He’s been texting me a bit.”

Seonghwa makes a noncommittal noise although for one second, you swear his grip on the remote tightens. When he doesn’t say anything further, you’re unsure of where to take the conversation. He’s never shown much interest in who you’ve dated before – in fact, he’s always seemed bored hearing about them, to the point that you barely mention it. You wonder what makes this guy different but something in you holds back asking.

“I gotta pee,” You say instead, and he just nods, swept up in whatever he’s thinking about.

You head down the hall and into the bathroom. You’re about to sit down when you notice there is no toilet paper on the roll. Rolling your eyes, you open the cabinet under the sink and rummage around. Why does he never pay attention to this stuff? Better yet why are you surprised?

The cabinet is as organized as the rest of his place but there is no sign of toilet paper. You try to remember if he stashes it elsewhere but nothing comes to mind. You think of your own cabinet under the bathroom sink and wince. Seonghwa has always been the more organized of you two. You’re lost in thought, pushing aside some cleaning supplies when your eyes land on a strange small black box pushed all the way to the back.

It’s slim and almost glossy, completely out of place to be shoved underneath the bathroom stick. You chew on your bottom lip, curiosity nipping at your brain. Seonghwa isn’t the one for secrets. There’s probably Pokémon cards or something inside that he misplaced.

But you still reach for the box, sitting down on the bathroom floor and opening it quietly. Guilt is poking at you for snooping through your best friend’s stuff. You can’t explain what is even driving you to open something personal that belongs to Seonghwa.

But you do.

There isn’t a lot inside.

One pair of underwear. A house key. A small bracelet.

Your pair of underwear. Your house key. Your small bracelet.

You stare at the items, not comprehending what is in your lap. The pair of underwear is green lace, one of your cuter pairs, and it went missing months ago. Around the time I found him passed out drunk in my bed, a small voice in your head points out.

The memory of the night replays. Coming home late, finding Seonghwa fast asleep in your bed, flopped on his stomach, wrapped up in the bedsheets as if it was his own room. You were frustrated at the lack of respect for your personal space. Seonghwa always had a tendency to do such things; back in college, more than once you’d wake up to him in your dorm with a cup of coffee in hand, somehow getting past security.

But you snapped that night, under a lot of work pressure and startled at finding a shape in your bed in the middle of the night. Waking Seonghwa up, you angrily asked him what he had been doing. Seonghwa slurred his words, said he was drunk and apologized. He sounded panicked and ashamed but that didn’t stop you from demanding your key back. You hadn’t talked to him for three days while he left you a ton of texts and messages apologizing and explaining himself. It was the longest you had gone without speaking to him.

Back in the present, you gingerly reach for the pair of underwear. Why would he take this? Your cheeks feel hot looking at it. Was he…doing something with this? Surely, that would be impossible. For a split second, your brain flashes a mental image of Seonghwa with his hand wrapped around the underwear as he – nope, no.

You drop it back into the box, opting for the bracelet instead. It’s a thin fake gold band with a tiny cubic zirconia diamond in it. You wore it over ten years ago, one night at the summer festival. Your boyfriend at the time just broke up with you and all you wanted to do was stay inside until Seonghwa prodded you to go with him. You wore the bracelet then, with a sun dress, trying to make an effort to look presentable. Seonghwa won a stuffed animal at one of the booths and gave it to you. You don’t remember misplacing the bracelet.

The house key winks knowingly at you.

You shut the box, shoving it hurriedly back in its spot as your heart threatened to explode in your chest. Your head is spinning, wondering what the hell to do. Do you confront him about it? That is what you’re supposed to do. But what do you even say?

You turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face while trying to gather your thoughts. Could it be that Seonghwa had some sort of crush on you? That is absurd. Keeping the bracelet would mean it has been a minimum of ten years he’s been pining for me. It could be longer. That’s enough to drive anyone mad.

In any case, you needed to get out of his apartment and try to calm yourself down. You had a tendency not to think very rationally when emotional and it would be better to put some space away from Seonghwa until you figured out how to broach the subject.

You open the bathroom slowly, trying to collect yourself and steady your breathing. When you enter the living room, Seonghwa is idly watching TV. He glances over at you and then frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

So much for looking casual.

“My boss texted me and there’s some crisis with another client. I need to pop back home and get on a Zoom meeting.” You don’t even know where the lie came from but it leaves your mouth smoothly.

Seonghwa sounds exasperated when he replies with, “You’re kidding.”

“No, sorry. You know how it is. Big girl job.”

“Yeah, fine, I get it.”

You are trying to get to the door without asking him what the fuck but he meets you there, his hand on the door knob. You force yourself to look at him directly – this face you know so well, this face you’ve stared at a thousand times. The same face that won you a stuffed animal at the festival ten years ago. Nothing has changed.

“I’ll message you later,” You say.

“Alright,” He opens the door, “Later.”

It closes behind your back, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there for a few moments.

You have no proof but there’s the sensation of Seonghwa looking through the peephole at you.

Not seeing your best friend for two days does nothing to help you figure out how to broach the subject of the tiny black box underneath his bathroom sink. By the time you see Seonghwa Sunday afternoon, the only idea you have is to avoid the discussion completely and opt to veer the conversation into you going on a date with someone.

The sun is lazily cutting across the floor of your living room while you pretend to be making coffee in the kitchen. Seonghwa is talking animatedly from the couch about something that happened the day before. You’re not really paying attention. Your mind keeps flashing to the night he fell asleep in your bed, picturing him rummaging through your underwear drawer to take a pair and slipping it into his pocket. You’re remembering the way he comforted you after getting dumped, convincing you to go to the festival. You can see him against the backdrop of the small white bulbs that were hanging off the booths, running his fingers through his hair while explaining with easy confidence how he could win a stuffed animal.

“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the memories and you blink, looking up from your place at the kitchen counter to see him standing in front of you, “Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m going on a date Tuesday night,” You blurt out without preamble, “With the client. The project that just finished.”

Seonghwa looks thrown before clearing his throat and replying, “Alright.”

But you keep going. “I think we have a real connection. It could turn into something.”

For the briefest moment, Seonghwa’s face goes startingly blank. There is nothing behind his eyes, and no expression on his face. Then he snaps back into focus, his hands pressing flat against the counter. “That’s good.”

You’re lying, of course, you doubt anything will come from this date. But if Seonghwa is harbouring some sort of intense crush on you, maybe showing him you’re into someone else will fix things. Knock the thoughts out of his head, redirect his focus to something else. Anything to get out of having a horrible discussion with him that could ruin the most solid friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life.

“Yeah, I can let you know how it goes,” You say a little too quickly, “Might be good for me. Like, I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years. I feel ready for one now.”

Seonghwa pushes himself away from the counter, turning his back to you. “That’s great.” He plops back down on the couch. “Remind me again what I know about this guy.”

You decide to take this opportunity to really sell this man, to truly drive it home that this could be someone that you will be smitten with. You spend the next five minutes prattling on about him. At one point, you sit on the couch, on the opposite side of where Seonghwa is, still enthusiastically talking about a man you’ve barely thought of the entire time you worked with him.

Seonghwa’s face is slightly tilted with his arm propped up on the side of the couch, hand resting against his cheek. He’s looking at the wall, eyes distant. You’re trying to stay the course and see your speech through while at the same time studying his face for any sign that this onslaught of information is settling in. But there isn’t anything, not even a clenching of his jaw.

Running out of breath, you stop speaking and the room lapses into silence. Seonghwa stirs, turning his face in your direction. There it is once more – the same blank stare from earlier. Nothing behind his eyes, gone in a flash, replaced with the same Seonghwa you knew. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling a little off kilter. There is something unfamiliar in that blankness, something that is brand new ground in the relationship with your best friend.

“Well, you sound excited,” He says casually, “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

Your shoulders relax slightly. Are you overthinking everything? If Seonghwa was upset, you’d notice, right? You’ve seen him angry or annoyed a thousand times before. But the box still tugs at your sleeve. There’s a reason he has that. There is a reason he kept the underwear, the bracelet, the key. But the idea of asking your best friend why he has a box with such contents makes you want to jump off a cliff.

And Seonghwa is…comforting. Maybe it is selfish to think of him that way and to want nothing to change, especially if things are different at his end. But he’s been in your life for so long that the idea of him potentially not wanting to be around you anymore due to a crush forming makes your anxiety spike. He’s been there through everything…You can get stuff back on track. You can fix things without mentioning the box.

You’re sure of it.

Typically, the process of getting ready for a date is somewhat fun and enjoyable. You tend to overthink your outfit but other than that, you like listening to music, doing your makeup and wondering how the night will go.

This date doesn’t feel like that, mostly because the entire time you’re getting ready, your mind keeps going to Seonghwa.

You’ve been overanalyzing his behavior since your Oscar winning performance convincing him this date is important. It’s been a few days since your speech and he seems exactly the same. Maybe a little more reserved if you truly look at the small details. But that could be work related, you argue, maybe I need to stop being so self-absorbed and think that everything has to do with me.

But then you think back to the box with your underwear, bracelet and key. Any rational person would just talk to their best friend about it. Instead, you’re forcing yourself to go on this date in hopes of avoiding it because you’re being selfish, putting your feelings before his and wanting everything to remain normal.

Your phone suddenly rings, startling you out of your brooding. It’s your client – no, your date.

“Hello?”

“Hey, listen,” His voice comes out fast and urgent, “I am so sorry but I’m going to have to cancel.”

“What? Why?” It comes out way more demanding than intended but you had been banking on this…

“Some fucking psycho ruined my car! It’s all smashed up! Like, it’s completely fucking ruined!” The client’s voice pitches higher in anxiety and an undercurrent of fear.

You grip the phone tightly while exclaiming, “What?!”

“My tires are slashed, my windows are blown out! The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it! Even the insides are cut up…Christ, I gotta go, okay? I’m really sorry. We’ll reschedule, I promise.”

“No, of course, I understand. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that happened,” You say in shock, “That’s horrible.”

“Thanks. Again, really sorry. I’ll call you, okay?”

The call ends as suddenly as it began. You stare at your phone for a few seconds, feeling a wave of sympathy for your client. It would be horrible to deal with your car getting messed up like that. But this meant the date was pushed back…

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wondered what to do now. Normally when plans fell through, you’d hang out with Seonghwa. If he found out the date got cancelled and you didn’t come over, he could think you’re avoiding him. But showing up all dolled up for a date that had nothing to do with him could be rubbing his face in things too, couldn’t it?

“I’m so sick of overthinking,” You mumble, leaving your bathroom and trying to find a hoodie to tug over your outfit, yanking it on over your head, adjusting it a bit and then grabbing your bag, “I don’t care.”

You’re lying – you care more than you’d like to admit, both about Seonghwa and whatever is going on with his feelings towards you and the fact deep down you’re aware that you are handling this poorly.

A few minutes later, you’re knocking on the front door of Seonghwa’s apartment. While you do have a key to his place, you weren’t going to violate that boundary even though you knew he wouldn’t see it that way.

No one answers.

You knock again but this time you go, “Hey, Seonghwa?”

Now, you can hear shuffling inside the apartment followed by a muffled, “Just a second!”

The door opens a second later. Seonghwa has clearly just gotten out of the shower. His hair is still soaking wet, dripping onto his black t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out but all that does is send some water droplets flying to the floor.

“What, were you taking a swim?” You joke.

His eyes land on you. “Wasn’t expecting you to come by. I thought you had that date.”

“I did but he had to cancel,” You reply as Seonghwa moves to let you inside, “He called me and told me like…his car got fucked up.”

“His car got fucked up,” He deadpans, raising one eyebrow, “Are you sure he isn’t lying?”

You scoff. “Seriously? Who would lie about that? He told me someone slashed his tires, broke his windows, banged up the doors and shit. So, he needed to go deal with it. We’re gonna reschedule.”

Seonghwa runs one hand through his hair again, seemingly unbothered by how wet it is. Even his t-shirt is damp, clinging to his frame. He flexes his fingers on his right hand, an action that is unfamiliar to you. The muscles in his arms move. You’re staring and don’t know why. It’s like he was mid shower when he got out or something, you think.

“So, I’m the backup plan?” He asks and there’s a strange edge to the sentence, stripping it of any humor.

You blink, thrown by the tone. “No, I didn’t…”

But Seonghwa smiles then, and his voice is back to normal. “It’s cool. I wasn’t doing anything tonight. We can hang out. You wanna watch TV?”

You nod, trailing after him into the comfort of his living room. He goes into the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning forward to try to find something to drink. His t-shirt lays flat across his back, his black hair curling against the nape of his neck, still dripping onto the tile. You stare at him for a few seconds before settling in on the couch. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the dress you’re wearing although most of it is covered up by the hoodie. He didn’t seem to notice your outfit or makeup anyway. Be serious. He’s seen you on dates a lot of times.

There is the sound of a beer opening as Seonghwa returns to the couch, tossing you a bottle of water as he plops down next to you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes as he takes a swig from the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing while swallowing.

“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin the couch with your hair dripping everywhere?”

He tilts his face in your direction and then rests his head directly on the back of the couch. You roll your eyes.

“Get a towel.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You’re just trying to annoy me now.”

“Yup.”

The exchange is so normal and familiar that you don’t even realize you’ve sunken onto the couch next to him as he flips through the channels. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, so comfortable that you forget the box stuffed away in Seonghwa’s bathroom for the first time since discovering it.

Apparently, he is comfortable too because at some point, you realize you’re hearing soft snoring. Surprised, you look over at him. He’s dozed off, eyes closed, chest rising and falling peacefully. His mouth is open slightly, head to the side, blissfully unaware of his wet hair. Seonghwa often kept odd hours and it wasn’t so strange for him to fall asleep as soon as he got even mildly relaxed.

Mixed emotions are mingling inside your chest – a concoction of anxiety, peacefulness, and a sense of impending doom. In this quiet moment, it is as though you’re standing on a beach watching a tsunami approach. You’ve been trying so hard to run from the change that swept in with discovering that tiny box underneath the bathroom sink.

You want to lean over and wake Seonghwa up, just ask him what is going on. But you still balk at the conversation and at tarnishing this moment where everything feels so normal.

You wonder if the box is still under the sink.

Maybe you imagined it.

With one last glance at Seonghwa, you get up. Even though you’re walking to the bathroom, you cannot shake the guilt feeling swooping over your chest. You glance over your shoulder. He’s still perfectly asleep.

Seonghwa’s bedroom door is next to the bathroom, slightly ajar. You glance inside out of habit. His bed is perfectly made with a couple of framed posters on the walls. There isn’t anything out of place but…

Maybe it’s the way the light from the hallway lays across the carpet or maybe you’re spending too long looking inside but before you completely pass by something shines for a split second. You slow down and then stop, hovering in the doorway to his room. Your heart is beating quickly now.

One final look in Seonghwa’s direction to ensure he’s sleeping sends you into his bedroom. Now who is breaking boundaries? A little voice in your head remarks cruelly. You cross the carpet towards what caught your eye – the glint of something similar to a knife. The bathroom towel has been quickly thrown over whatever it is.

Bending down, your fingers hover over the towel. Your entire body is screaming for you just to leave and get out of there. You’re snooping, you’re keeping secrets, you’re posturing as if Seonghwa has done something unforgiveable but meanwhile you’re not doing anything better –

You snatch the towel off the object and your heart falls into a pool of ice water.

An axe is laying on the floor. You stare at it while the hair on the back of your neck stands up. “The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it!” The words of your date ring in your head with deafening volume. You think about Seonghwa asking for information about the client and how you babbled endlessly in order to convince him this date was real. You knocked on the door and he hadn’t been ready for you, soaking wet, barely toweled off as if he had been busy…what, hiding the axe under the towel?

This is insane. Do you realize what your brain is jumping to? What are you trying to suggest? That Seonghwa went out to this guy’s place and ruined his car? Do you know what that implies? It implies he’s not just crushing on you. It implies there’s something…wrong. There’s something wrong with him. That’s what you’re thinking about your best friend right now.

The anxiety hits you full force in the chest then. You can hardly breathe, quickly covering up the axe and stumbling to your feet. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t even know what to say to him. The most important thing is getting out of here –

“What are you doing?”

You almost jump out of your skin, whirling around to see Seonghwa’s figure in the doorway. His face is half in shadow and one hand is on the door frame. You take a step back, almost tripping over the axe while straightening up.

“I thought you were sleeping,” You mumble and all efforts to make your voice sound normal fail.

“I woke up.” His voice is different, altered.

Seonghwa takes a step into the room and his face is clearer now. Yet there is that same look you have seen flashes of before. The complete emptiness of expression, the utter blankness behind his eyes. There is nothing familiar about him now.

“Now,” He says in a cold voice, “Who is the one breaking boundaries?”

You swallow hard while your brain fumbles for an excuse. But instead of speaking one, what leaves your mouth is, “Why do you have an axe?”

“Is it illegal to own one?”

“No but it’s a little strange to have it on your bedroom floor underneath a towel.” You try to make it come out like a lighthearted joke but your voice quivers, giving you away.

Seonghwa takes another step. In exchange, you back up, over the axe and closer to his night table. It seems ridiculous to be afraid of your best friend. But it also is ridiculous to have a secret box in the bathroom and an axe on the floor.

His right hand flexes and his jaw is clenched. You get the feeling he is trying to wrangle himself under control – but from what? He has all the qualities of the Seonghwa you know but it’s like someone smeared him with a layer of paint and distorted him.

You try again. “Why do you have the axe, Seonghwa?”

He doesn’t answer. Just moves closer. You’re cornered now. He’s near enough to touch, to grab his shirt and demand he answer you – this man you don’t know, this man you’re realizing you might not know at all.

“Why are you in my room?” Seonghwa makes a small noise, a tsk tsk, before adding, “Gonna have to ask for my key back, I think. Didn’t we just discuss boundaries?”

Up this close, you can better see the blankness in his eyes. You can smell the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash. Your mind is telling you to run but your heart is whispering that this is your best friend, just hug him and talk it out. You don’t know what to do.

You say Seonghwa’s name so softly, just a wisp of a thing against the boiling emotions that are brimming to the surface inside him. “Why do you have some of my things under your bathroom sink?”

Seonghwa recoils, eyes widening in surprise. Your brain tells you to push past him, take this chance and run. But your feet don’t listen. Even now, you want to hear him out. You’re desperate to prove this all some fucked up misunderstanding.

You keep going. “That bracelet. From the night of the festival. And my….my underwear. Why do you have those things? My date calls me, says his car got trashed and that it looks like an axe was taken to the sides and then you’re scurrying around when I knock, hide an axe under a towel. Where were you earlier? Seonghwa, where were you earlier? Why do you have those things? Tell me. If you don’t want me to walk out of here, tell me. If you don’t want to fuck up the friendship, tell me.”

He tilts his face away from you, eyes glassy, looking at nothing. He’s grinding his teeth, something else you’ve never seen him do. Seonghwa’s profile is striking but no longer comforting. When he looks back at you, your lower back nudges into the night table and your hands grip the edge, staring at him.

“I want to fuck up the friendship. I’ve always wanted to fuck up the friendship,” He declares.

You shake your head. “You don’t mean that. That’s not how things are with us –”

“That’s always been how things are with us!” He shouts suddenly, loud enough to make you flinch.

“No! No, Seonghwa, that isn’t true –”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” His eyes are alive now, twisted, no longer blank but not belonging to him either. He’s so close to you now, dangerously so. The warmth of his body is seeping into yours. The rage is swimming off him, strong enough to knock you over. You have never seen Seonghwa so angry before…and certainly never at you.

“I’m not, I’m not lying,” You plead, wanting to touch him but too afraid of making things worse, “I’m not lying. I was just – I was just trying to understand. The box under the sink and the axe…”

“You’re a smart girl, stop pretending like you don’t know,” Seonghwa growls out, “You know why I have those things under the sink.”

“The bracelet –”

Seonghwa is bristling with an intense energy as he replies, “From the festival night! See, you remember. You knew immediately where it was from. It slipped off your wrist when you were at one of the games, landed in the dirt. I took it. I took it because that was the night I thought ‘maybe’. I thought maybe you’d realize how badly I wanted you. And I think you did realize it. But you looked the other way. I love you but fucking hell, you look the other way when anything might change. But I’m patient. I can wait. I can take care of things and I can wait.”

I love you he had said, so effortlessly, so easily. The air is knocked out of your lungs by his casual admission. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice nor care he said it. He just stated it as though it was a fact, like the sun rising every morning. He runs his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed in memories.

“The underwear, do I gotta explain that? Like I said, you’re smart. You know. I didn’t think you were coming home that night. I thought you were out, picked up by a guy or something. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I had shoved the underwear in my pocket before you got there and it just felt so damn good to be in your bed. Everything smelled like you and just…it was just a lot, you know?” His eyes land on you. “It was wrong to lie, tell you I was drunk. It was the fastest thing I could think of.”

“You lied to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says seriously and you realize he believes lying about being drunk was the worst thing he did that night, not using your key or stealing your underwear.

“You’re – you’re sorry? You violated my boundaries, you slept in my bed, you stole my…and then you lied to me,” You reply aghast, “It’s like I don’t even know you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa is starting to look anguished now. He goes to reach for you, thinks twice and drops his hands to his sides before taking a step back, carefully skirting around the axe. Then he stops, considering it before picking it up and tossing it onto the bed, making you flinch again.

“Don’t act like that,” Seonghwa says sternly, pointing to you, “Don’t do that. It’s me, alright? It’s me. You’ve known me since we were kids. I’m still the same person.”

You swallow hard, unable to reply.

He continues to talk, pacing the room. “Listen, for how long I’ve been in love with you, I think – I think I’m doing alright. I’ve never done anything bad to you. I have always had your back. That one asshole back in college – that professor. The science one. Remember? I made sure to stop that shit before it got out of hand. He was out of bounds asking you out. That’s wrong. You’re a – you’re a student.”

The floor is unsteady underneath your feet. You’re staring at Seonghwa as he paces, wondering if you’re going to faint. “That was you? He couldn’t even come back to work after that. He needed physical therapy. His legs…”

“Okay, in my defense,” He holds out one hand to ward off your criticism, “In my defense, I didn’t realize until later I maybe shouldn’t have brought the bat down so hard.”

Your eyes fall to the axe. You’re almost afraid to ask.

But Seonghwa follows your gaze and he immediately makes a noise of protest. “I didn’t lay a hand on that guy.”

“But…but his car…”

“So what? It’s a car. Which he thought was more important than you seeing that he cancelled the date, by the way,” He is talking so quickly that it is hard to follow his words, “You gave me so much information about him and this idiot – I mean, he’s a real idiot, alright? He had so much public information about himself. I found his address in like, two minutes. I mean, this is not the sort of guy you want to be with. He’s too stupid for you.”

You’re feeling dazed now like you got hit with the axe instead of the client’s car. “How did you not get caught?”

“He doesn’t live in the city. Lives in the suburbs, some big fancy ugly house with a private garage. Slipped in, slipped out.” A thought strikes him and Seonghwa moves towards you, holding his hands out to calm you down as if you’re a scared deer. “But I didn’t hurt him. I wasn’t going to hurt him. You seemed to really like the moron. I just wanted to see how badly he wanted to go on a date with you. If his material items were more important than seeing you.”

Thunderstruck, you reply, “Seonghwa, you trashed his fucking car.”

He scurries over, extremely close to you once again. He looks so warm and inviting again, earnest as ever as he goes, “And he picked it over you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me.”

You can only stare at him, unable to reply. Too much is happening. There is too much new information occurring at once. And the way Seonghwa is standing there, looking so open and honest – the polar opposite of earlier when he came into the bedroom, is making things confusing.

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, his voice a soft murmur while studying your face. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve protected you from is because I love you. I’ve always loved you. The entire reason I exist is to love you. I’d follow you to the end of the earth. I’d follow you into hell. Some part of you had to know that. You felt it, didn’t you?”

Your breathing is quick and shallow. You’re grateful for the barrier of the hoodie because you’re acutely aware of how close you are to your best friend. You’re thinking about him moving to the city, and then into your building. You’re thinking of all the various strange occurrences you tried to steadfastly ignore – people getting injured after upsetting you, job interviews that felt horrible only for them to offer you a position, Seonghwa up all hours of the night on his computer looking exhausted and claiming it was just work, the beleaguered quick expression on his face whenever you mentioned him going on a date…

Seonghwa makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “You’re scared. It’s okay. You never liked change and you were never good with your feelings.”

You squeeze your eyes closed while saying, “I thought you’d think I was smitten with him. That you’d…you’d drop this. And we could go back to normal. I didn’t think you’d…”

“Go back to normal?” He scoffs, “What is normal for you? Ignoring what is right in front of you?” Very slowly and carefully, he brings the back of his hand to your cheek, gently brushing it along your skin. The touch makes your heart thud violently in your chest. Seonghwa looks at you tenderly. “I would be so good to you. I’m a perfect fit for you.”

“Seonghwa…” You aren’t sure if his name is a curse, a prayer or just a whimpered plea to let things stay the same.

He is close enough to your body now that you know what is going to happen next. You should push him away, get out of here and call the police on him.

But you don’t.

Instead, you allow Seonghwa to kiss you.

Your mouth opens underneath his, tasting your best friend in a way that is entirely new. The sensation of his lips on yours is dizzying in the most twisted way possible. Seonghwa’s hand goes to the back of your neck as the kiss grows more intense. His tongue is in your mouth and he makes a tiny noise – like some small bit of him is finally finding relief. You aren’t even sure if you’re breathing, too swept up by the mind-bending things that have occurred in the last ten minutes. As the kiss deepens, you tilt your head to the side, your tongue against his now.

There is a small voice in the back of your head quietly asking you what the fuck are you doing? Not only is this Seonghwa of all people but he’s obviously mentally unstable. But there is a heat swooping through your body and there is a need cracking through something inside you that is made worse by the fact you’re thinking about how he’s always had your back since first meeting.

Your hand is gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. You aren’t sure whose ragged breathing you’re hearing but certainly it cannot be yours because you must’ve died ten minutes ago. That’s the only logical explanation for why you’re now desperately kissing Seonghwa; it just simply couldn’t be happening like this.

The heat is unspooling in your chest now, dropping to your thighs. Seonghwa makes another quiet noise while kissing you, so fragile yet tense, and it is in that noise that the desire and fear smash together and overwhelm you.

You push him away with a small gasp, wiggling free from the confined space and placing your hand against the wall to steady yourself.

“I can’t,” You gasp out – although is directed to you or your best friend?

Looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa, he’s staring at you with blown out pupils while his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“You can’t what?” He drawls coldly, “You can’t what?”

You shake your head while saying, “I should be calling the police on you. You’ve hurt people. You’ve damaged people’s property.”

“Oh, please!” His mood shifts quickly again, his tone hostile. He approaches you, so close again, enough to see that his lips are slightly wet from the kissing. “Stop pretending. Stop pretending you don’t feel it.”

But it’s too much – all of it. You shake your head, afraid of…of what? Seonghwa? No, something else. Something worse.

You’re afraid of yourself.

“I can’t – I have to go,” You say, pushing past him, “I can’t do this.”

In all your years of friendship with him, you’ve never run out of his apartment. There has never been any reason to. But you leave Seonghwa in his bedroom with the axe on the bed, quickly scampering down the hallway. You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if he is following.

But he isn’t.

And you’re not sure how you feel.

There is no sleep that night, only replaying the entirety of your friendship with Seonghwa like a horrible movie in your mind. You try picturing him taking the bat to that teacher’s legs but it is an impossible thing to imagine. You wonder what else he’s done. He’s been off, slinking around in the night, breaking into your apartment, sleeping in your sheets.

You roll onto your side, staring at the edge of your bed. What is Seonghwa doing right now? Is he thinking of you? Most likely, since it has become clear that all he thinks about is you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me. His confession bangs around in your brain, refusing to give you any peace.

You’re back at the festival, watching him win you the stuffed animal. Seonghwa’s head is cocked to the side as he thrusts the stuffed animal towards you, grinning. You try to refuse it at first but he shakes his head, saying he has no use for it. His hair is softly glowing against the lights. His fingers brush against your wrist while accepting the gift. You feel a sense of contentment knowing you’re here with him and not crying in your room alone.

What happened the next day? Your ex’s dorm room goes up in flames due to an unattended candle left burning. You remember laughing about karma with Seonghwa.

But it wasn’t karma.

Unless Seonghwa is your karma.

Your brain circles to the one thing you’ve been trying the most not to think about: the kiss. It is something you’ve never ever considered. Kissing Seonghwa had always been something firmly planted in the realm of impossibility. Anyone of sound mind would have called the police on him, and what did you do? You kissed him.

And even worse, something that you can only admit in the dead of night when the world is still and quiet: you liked it. You enjoyed the small noises of relief Seonghwa made, how hot his body temperature ran, how his t-shirt was gripped in your hand. You enjoyed his desperation. You enjoyed his dedication.

What the fuck did that say about you?

You’ve never gone this long without hearing from Seonghwa. It’s been four days and you keep expecting him to show up. You think he might even be waiting in your apartment every time you come home from work. You almost wish he was. But he isn’t. His silence is throwing you off.

Maybe Seonghwa is going to skip town, you think in the silence of your bedroom one night. He might think I’m going to turn him in and he’s trying to get ahead of it. The idea of Seonghwa vanishing is eating you up inside. You just want to talk to him.

But now you feel like the stalker, taking the elevator one floor down to his place with his apartment key in your hand. Even if Seonghwa ignores me, I’m gonna go inside, you think, if he can do it to me, I can do it to him. I just want to talk to him. Your mind is flickering to the kiss. You’re thinking about staying up late with him watching movies over the years. You’re remembering how he stopped going to the coffee shop where that woman was interested in him. You can taste him in your mouth.

At the front door of his apartment, you knock. Softly at first. No reply. You knock again. You stand there, debating what to do. The key is heavy in your hand.

What Seonghwa has done is wrong. It’s not just illegal, it’s fucked up.

But no one in your life has ever looked out for you in the way he did and continues to do.

His hair, wet, dripping onto the tile in the kitchen. His right hand flexing. The blank look in his eyes. The axe on the bed.

Still no answer.

The key is heavy in the lock, and the tumblers sound like gunshots as you turn it. Quietly, you push open the door and creep inside Seonghwa’s apartment. There aren’t any lights on. Silence settles across the place like a blanket. You shut the door softly, wondering why you’re doing this.

But still, you continue, creeping down the hallway towards his bedroom. The door is open and moonlight filters in through his bedroom window, leaving a small band of white along the hallway floor. You hover outside Seonghwa’s room before pushing the door open wider to allow yourself in.

He’s sprawled out on the bed, asleep. You stand next to it, looking at the way the moonlight lays across his face. His black hair is messy, lips parted slightly as his breathing goes slow and deep. Some logical part of you knows it is bizarre to be watching your best friend sleep like this after using his key. You’re not any better than he is when you act like this, it scolds you.

But you study Seonghwa’s face. The moonlight washes his skin out. His bone structure is so familiar to you but tonight, you’re thinking that once again he looks like someone scrambled his face up with a large brush and showed you it.

You raise your hand to reach for his shoulder. You’re going to wake him up. To ask him…what? You’re not sure. You just want to talk to him.

But before you can touch him, Seonghwa’s hand reaches out in a flash and grabs your wrist, his eyes startingly empty. You gasp in surprise and almost fall back but he is holding onto you too tightly.

“You’re creeping around my place again. I might start getting the wrong idea,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds taunting, almost venomous, “I might start thinking you want to fuck me.”

You’ve never heard him speak like that.

“I wanted to talk,” You reply but the words sound so absurd given you used his key and were watching him sleep.

“No, you didn’t,” He retorts.

No, you didn’t.

Seonghwa pulls you down and you kiss him again, open mouthed and desperate. You gasp from the force of his lips on yours as though he wants to devour you. He’s half sitting up, his hand on the back of your neck, and you’re getting in his lap now, straddling him as his tongue slips into your mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you make a noise and the kiss breaks.

His hands are cupping your cheeks. Seonghwa is looking at you almost deliriously. You hadn’t changed before coming over, just wearing a thin pair of sweatpants which means you can feel him stiff in his own pair, rock hard already, pressing against your thigh.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Why didn’t you talk to me the last few days?” It sounds almost plaintive.

He’s studying your face as his thumbs graze your cheeks. “I was waiting for you to either turn me in or come see me. Whatever ended up happening, I knew what it would mean.”

Breathlessly, you reply, “I wasn’t going to call the cops.”

His thumb is running over your lips. Seonghwa is looking at you mesmerized as if he has never seen something so wonderful as you in his lap. No one has ever looked at you in this way.

“Everything I did, I did because I love you,” His voice sounds like a raw wound, “Do you get that now?”

“I get it now,” You reply, knowing it’s wrong, knowing it’s fucked up, knowing you must have lost it.

His grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly as his eyes grow intense. “I was looking out for you from the moment we first met. I have always protected you. I’ve always made sure no one would harm you and if they did, I ensured they got what was coming to them. You deserve the best. You always have,” His voice is hurried, emotional, “I always have tried to give you the best because I love you.” His fingers dig into your skin. “Do you get that? Do you understand how much I love you? God, sometimes, you would look right through me and it felt like the entire world was ending. Like the ground was just shattering underneath my feet. But I never dreamt of leaving your side. I love you too much even if you didn’t feel the same. I told myself I would just protect you until I died.”

His voice is pure agony, a crackling and fizzling of the years that have gone by spilling out from in between his lips. “You looked at me with such fear the other day when you were in my room, staring at the axe. As if…as if I would ever hurt you. It’s so absurd. I would never do anything to you. Everything I do is because I love you.”

“Seonghwa,” You breathe out shakily, “Your hand…. it’s too tight…”

His eyes drop to the way he’s gripping your face and he releases his hand immediately, apologizing. Your head is swimming, torn between the logical mind telling you to leave and your irrational heart pulled by his words, his love, his promises and protection.

But he feels so good underneath you.

Your lips find his once more and whatever remains of Seonghwa’s speech dies in his mouth, lost in the groan he emits when you touch him again. He shifts slightly so that his leg is pressing against your pussy and you react by grinding down slightly on his knee, just enough to feel pressure against your clit. Your breath hitches as Seonghwa’s hands roam across your body – fondling your tits through your shirt, down across your hips before resting on your waist, pushing you down on his knee.

He’s kissing and biting your neck, hard enough to leave marks. Your hands are in his hair while you grind on his knee. At one point, he bites so hard that you gasp and you swear that he chuckles quietly. Seonghwa pulls away, looking at you with an expression of mingled lust and something more possessive.

“You’ll have to cover that up for your date.” His words are like stone but there is a flicker of toying amusement behind his eyes.

“What date?” You mumble, slightly dazed, too turned on by the way he’s touching you.

Seonghwa laughs, his teeth like daggers in the flash of moonlight before pulling you towards him. His kiss is greedy, one hand sliding under your t-shirt to cup your breast. You’re not wearing a bra, having come over here quickly without putting much thought into it. You can feel him smirk against your lips, as if the lack of one is telling him something you’re not privy to.

He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump. His other hand is on your lower back, steadying you on his knee as you continue to chase your orgasm. It’s evident Seonghwa isn’t going to try to stop you. He leans his head down, tugging your shirt up so that he can wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on it hard. He switches to the other one, biting on it. You’re making soft noises, a cross between a plea and pleasure, dimly aware that to be doing this with Seonghwa means forever ruining the very friendship you were once so keen on saving. But maybe it never stood a chance. Maybe time just caught up with the dynamic.

When Seonghwa pulls away from your tits, he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him while demanding, “I want to watch you cum. I want to see what you look like when you’re cumming. I’ve pictured it so many times in my head – no, don’t stop. Don’t slow down. There, good girl. Oh, do you like that? When I call you that? Is that gonna make you cum?”

You manage to nod even though his hold on you is tight. He looks different in the moonlight, different in the manner he’s openly staring at you without hiding his feelings. There’s an energy rolling off him that you’ve never felt before, something bubbling to the surface and spilling out – who he really is. Who he hid for so long. You feel like a small bug crawling into a Venus fly trap but you don’t want to turn away.

Your orgasm starts then, after Seonghwa calls you good girl in that voice of his that is dripping honey while hiding a dagger. You can’t believe that you just got off from grinding on your best friend’s knee but you barely have time to come down from the climax before he is slipping your shirt off over your head and tossing it to the side.

He’s groping your tits, rolling his thumbs across your nipples, in seemingly no hurry to fuck you. You thought the orgasm would bring clarity, give your mind release from the problematic thoughts you’ve been having about your messed up best friend and allow yourself to exit the situation.

But you feel no such thing. Instead, you find yourself removing his shirt as well before kissing him hungrily while your hands press against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and in one swift motion, he has you against the pillows underneath him.

Seonghwa is hot to the touch, his skin almost feverish as your fingers trail down his shoulders and along his arms. He’s moving downwards, his tongue across your nipples, down your stomach, obscenely leaving a trail of his salvia until he reaches your sweatpants.

Hooking his thumbs into the band, he yanks them down, leaving you in just your underwear. He nudges your thighs apart, pressing one finger along your pussy.

“You’re soaking wet,” Seonghwa drawls, sounding both pleased and tormented, “Underwear is fucking glued to your pussy.”

There is something fucked up and thrilling hearing your best friend talk like this. Seonghwa has always been so nice, so thoughtful over the years. Even when he would discuss his dates, he never dove into any details that would come off disrespectful. But now, mask off, it’s evident he’s perverted and unhinged on top of being psychotic. So why do I like it so much?

Seonghwa abruptly grabs the sides of your underwear and rips it with his hands. There is a loud tearing of fabric, his eyes alight while doing so, and then you’re exposed to him. Instinctively, you squirm, trying to close your legs. But Seonghwa is faster and his hands are on your thighs, keeping you open in front of him. His eyes look upwards to meet yours.

“No, I want to see how wet your pussy is from me. No hiding now. I’ve daydreamed about tasting your sweet cunt for far too long.” He turns his gaze back downward, one finger against your wet slit. “God, look at how fucking good you look,” The desperation in his voice is obvious, “What a perfect pussy.”

Seonghwa leans forward and his tongue is in your hole with a pornographic slurping noise as he tastes you for the first time. His nose bumps against your clit as he buries his face in between your thighs, trying to get his tongue as far as possible inside you.

“Fuck,” His words are muffled, “You taste so fucking good. You taste exactly how I knew you would. Can’t believe it took this long to taste your sweet cunt,” His hold on your thighs tightens, “Drives me fucking crazy knowing others had it before me. They didn’t deserve it.”

His tongue drags along your folds until he places a kiss on your clit, just enough to make you shiver. You know that you shouldn’t look down. It will make the entire situation feel entirely too real. But you don’t listen and instead prop yourself on your elbows slightly, just enough to look down at Seonghwa in between your legs.

His eyes catch yours and he lewdly flicks his tongue across your clit just to drive the point home that this is happening and you’re enjoying it. You sharply inhale, your hand grabbing onto the bedsheet. He closes his eyes, focusing on rolling his tongue over your clit slowly, just enough to drive you crazy. You cannot tear your gaze away from Seonghwa of all people doing this to you, making you feel this good. In the moonlight, his shoulders almost glow, and some of his hair has fallen in front of his eyes.

While Seonghwa is working your clit, he slips one finger inside your hole, meeting no resistance from how wet it is. You squirm, head rolling back a little from the new sensation. Still, he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing his soft licks on your clit while pumping his finger. Your eyes flutter closed. It had been a long time since someone ate your pussy this good. It is just fucked up that it’s your best friend.

Seonghwa pulls his finger out of you, eliciting a whine that would be embarrassing in any other case but he quietly shushes you. “Needy girl, you want my tongue back on your clit? Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You look down at him, your cheeks warm. His eyes are devious, a smirk on his face, making his cheeks stand out more than usual as he shakes his head to get his hair out of his face.

You nod and he looks gravely serious. “No, tell me. I want to hear you tell me.” His voice is ice cold, allowing no argument. You’ve seen him this way a few times, always when he is angry and never at you. No, always at someone who did something mean to you though, the little voice whispers.

“I want your tongue back on my clit,” You say meekly because begging Seonghwa for such a thing is a foreign concept.

He stares at you for a second or two longer before suddenly spitting on your clit and smearing it in with his thumb. Your hips buck automatically from the sudden pleasure.

“You’re so sensitive,” He murmurs, “Gonna be so easy to make you cum again.” Seonghwa sounds lost in his daydreams and you cannot fathom how many times he’s thought about this.

His finger is back in your cunt and his tongue is flicking across your clit faster now. He adds a second digit, pumping them hard and fast, stopping occasionally to wiggle them deep inside you. His face is pressed against your pussy, sucking on your clit and sometimes stopping just to spit on it again. Seonghwa is groaning when he’s eating you out, as if he is driven to intoxication from the taste of you.

You can no longer prop yourself up on your elbows, instead sinking back down among the pillows. One of your hands reaches down for Seonghwa, his hair wrapping around your fingers as you desperately hold onto him so he doesn’t stop. He makes a noise of approval, fucking you harder with his fingers.

And it feels just too good and it feels even worse because it’s Seonghwa, the person you know the most and the person you don’t know at all. When your climax starts, his name leaves your lips broken and shattered, forever changed by what happened tonight.

When Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes are ablaze. You’re disoriented from cumming so hard two times already but he pulls you towards him. His lips crush yours in a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue. When the kiss breaks, there’s a long strand of spit connecting the two of you. He’s holding the back of your neck again, looking at you as though you’re trapped in his web.

“Oh, my name sounds so good like that.” He rubs his thumb across your lips, and the spit makes a mess, “You’re such a pretty thing.”

You like the way Seonghwa talks to you as if you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. But you suppose to him, you are. You’re feeling an aching desire to have him inside you, to know what it would be like to be fucked by him. Tentatively, you reach for his groin, pressing your hand against the tent. He inhales sharply but gives a firm shake of his head.

“Not yet,” He brushes your hand away, “You’re going to cum again.”

Surprised, you open your mouth to say something but before you can, he places two fingers on your tongue. Without questioning it, you wrap your lips around them and then immediately wonder why you didn’t even hesitate. You swirl your tongue around his fingers while he watches, entranced at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I can’t get enough of you. Now, sit on my face.”

Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of your mouth, snapping his fingers at you after he issued his command. You’re not even thinking anymore, lost completely to whatever pull you feel towards him and the promises of more pleasure. He’s on his back, motioning for you to hurry up. You try to carefully straddle his face but he makes a noise of impatience, reaching upwards to grab your hips and yanking you down so that your pussy is against his face.

His tongue dives into your hole and you make a noise of surprise, gripping the headboard of his bed. He’s eating your pussy like a man starved, not stopping to let you adjust at all. His hands are holding onto your hips, keeping you in place as he brings his tongue swooping up to your clit, swirling around it. This time is a lot more urgent as though it is more for him than you.

The sounds of Seonghwa eating your pussy sounds graphic but it is the way he is moaning while doing it that is turning you on. You like how he sounds, so desperate and his voice muffled, and when you move your hips gently against his face, he makes a noise to let you know to keep going.

So you do, grinding against his face. He moves his tongue back to your hole and you can feel his nose against your clit while rocking your hips. Your clit is growing sensitive from all the overstimulation and sometimes your hips bounce a little when it becomes too much. Seonghwa notices this and instead of giving you a break swoops his tongue back over your clit, flicking it hard and fast.

Your grip tightens on the headboard but you’re close to cumming again. Your thighs are shaking, panting with your tongue poking from in between your lips as you ride his face. With one last flick of his tongue, you moan out his name loudly, unable to stop from how much you’re working your pussy against his face. This orgasm is somehow even better than the earlier ones although it leaves your body shaking. You slide off him, falling onto the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Seonghwa sits up, kicking off his sweatpants. With relief, you realize he’s going to fuck you. You’re unsure that you could handle another orgasm again so soon after the others. Your head is dazed and thighs sore and you’re pretty sure that your pussy is a mess of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit.

He’s stroking his length, drinking in the sight of your naked body on his bed with the same fascination of someone viewing a beautiful painting. He shakes his hair out of his face again while getting to his knees, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

“You’re gonna cum around my cock next.”

You give a small shake of your head, out of breath. “I don’t think I can cum anymore.”

“Of course you can,” Seonghwa replies simply while positioning himself over your body.

His skin against yours is heavenly and hellish, weighted by the knowledge you��re tumbling into bed with your best friend who isn’t as stable as previously believed. But what does it say about you that it won’t leave your mind? He’s propped up over you, studying your face with such intensity that you break eye contact, feeling exposed. His cock is pressing at your entrance as your hands go to his sides, gingerly touching his hot skin.

Seonghwa lowers his face down to kiss you while sliding inside your wet entrance. You arch your back, fingers digging into his waist as he enters you easily. His lips are back on your neck, emitting a sigh that is a mingle of relief and tension all at once.

His words are muffled as he goes, “You feel so good. Your pussy is made for me. I was meant to be in this pussy every night.”

Seonghwa is curled around you, taking his time. He’s moving slowly, lost in the sensation of your walls tightening around his cock. Your hands glide upwards to his hair once again, bunching it in between your fingers as you wrap your legs around his waist.

When Seonghwa speaks again, he sounds lost, as if he isn’t even present in the moment. “I love you so much,” He grunts, going still for a second to collect himself before thrusting a little harder, “I love you so fucking much. I’d do anything for you, I’d do anything to be in your cunt like this. You just had to ask. But you never did.”

Your body is warm all over, each nerve in your body responding to his passion in a way that you didn’t think was possible. The voice in your head that has been pointing out how wrong it’s been all night is eerily silent. Instead, you tilt your head so that Seonghwa looks at you. Your foreheads are touching and when you speak, your lips graze his.

“Tell me what you’d do for me,” You plead softly.

His breath catches, his cock buried inside you to the hilt while he replies, “Anything. You know that. You already know some of what I’ve done. And I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it again,” He starts moving his hips faster now, plunging his length in and out of your soaking wet hole while his breathing grows laboured, “I’d do anything for you.”

The words make your head light. You’re moving your hips in time to his thrusts, tugging on his hair to let him know to keep going. Hearing your best friend make noises of pleasure, noises you’re not supposed to hear from him, is making you only desire more.

Seonghwa shifts positions, just enough so that your legs are bent back so he can hit your sweet spot with every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to the bedsheets once more, digging into them as he fucks you.

“You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” He grunts and runs his hand through his hair quickly with one hand to get it out of his eyes.

The gesture, so familiar, one you’ve seen him do often, strikes you in the chest. His desperation is evident in his eyes, in his voice, in every action he’s taken since he grabbed your wrist earlier. This is still your best friend, the realization dawning, this is still Seonghwa.

You’re just seeing all aspects of him now.

You aren’t sure what compels you to reach for his hand but you do, sliding it up to your neck. His eyes light up at what you’re requesting, that shark’s grin returning so quickly that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hand tightens around your neck while he fucks you. The muscles on his arm tightens; he pushes you back against the pillows while fucking you hard and fast.

“I’d do anything for you,” He repeats, voice breaking, “I’d have done anything you ever wanted if you just asked.” The pleasure is overtaking him and his mind is wandering, jumping from topic to topic, telling you all the things he’s ever thought about. “Fuck, my hand around your neck…” He grips you harder and you make a small noise which only drives his cock harder in your hole. “You look like a ragdoll taking my dick with your lips parted like that. I watched you through your window last week. You looked so tired. I thought – fuck, I thought about my hands around your neck, choking you while I fucked you into oblivion so you could sleep.”

I watched you through your window last week.

The angle and his hand on your neck is bringing you to another climax which you didn’t think could be possible. You can barely breathe, can barely move your hips to meet his thrusts. You’re so close to finishing, watching how Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your face, how intensely he is staring at you, no expression on his face as he fucks you.

With the little air you have left, you ask the question again. “Tell me what you’d do for me.” The words are so soft that you aren’t sure anyone else but Seonghwa could have heard them – he’s just too in tune with you.

“I’d fucking kill for you.”

And you’re cumming on his cock then. Seonghwa releases his grip on your neck so he can hear your hoarse moans. He hasn’t stopped fucking you, moving his hips the entire time you’re orgasming. You keep saying his name, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, making more noise than you ever have before.

Seonghwa pulls out, wiping the sweat from his brow before leaning forward, grabbing your face and going, “Open your mouth.” You do immediately and he spits in your mouth lewdly before kissing you hungrily. When it ends, he says roughly, “I’m gonna cum in your cunt now. Get on your knees.”

Your body protests a little while doing so, tired and sore from cumming so much and being fucked so hard. But once your ass is in the air, Seonghwa’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. He doesn’t waste any time and you know he must be dying to finish. You’re not used to someone putting their pleasure last like this.

The change in angle feels so good and you moan, prompting Seonghwa to go, “You’re cock starved, I love it. I love hearing you want more of me.” His hands slide to your lower back. “I love hearing you want me and none of those idiots you’ve wasted time on. All those fucking idiots. Made me sick.” He’s slamming his hips against your ass, his balls smacking against your pussy with each hurried thrust. “Makes me fucking sick to think of them touching you instead of me. They never deserved you. They never understood you, not like I did.”

You’re sinking into the bed, the weight of his hands on your lower back giving you no choice, your ass high in the air now as Seonghwa fucks you mercilessly. His voice is slurring at the edges, his words hazy like small things being tugged towards the light for the first time.

“I knew they couldn’t fuck you like I could or take care of you like I could. Just idiots, circling around you and I tried so hard to be nice. I wanted to be nice to those idiots because of you. Everything I do is because of you because I love you so much. F-fuck,” He does a particularly hard thrust and groans, “I wasn’t perfect. I knew I was doing bad things. Getting them fired from jobs. Snooping through their emails. Slashing their tires. I knew –” His breath caught, and his hands move to your ass, gripping it hard enough to leave marks. “I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. I was in love with you for so long and sometimes it’s enough to drive a man crazy.”

Seonghwa is fucking you so hard that you can’t even move. You lay against the bed, taking his cock, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head from how it good it is. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. The way he’s fucking you combined with his speech is making your head utterly blank – it just feels so good. All of it feels so good. You think your tongue might be poking out from between your lips. All you know is he’s going to make you finish again.

“I’m gonna fuck you like this every night, I’m gonna – fuck. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m going to fuck you and no one is ever going to bother you again because you’re mine now. Tell me you’re mine, I want to hear you tell me.”

Using the last of your energy, you moan out, “I’m yours, I belong to you, I’m yours.”

Seonghwa grunts, giving one last thrust while going, “Now take my load in that sweet cunt of yours.”

His cum is warm in your cunt as he empties his balls, filling you up until it’s leaking out of your hole. You’re finishing again as well, perfectly in sync with your best friend. You’ve fallen on the bed, making an unholy amount of noise from the intense orgasm, completely overstimulated. Seonghwa has pulled out of your cunt, leaving a long strand of cum along your lower back as he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, feeling completely fucked out. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth; you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. Seonghwa shifts behind you, sliding off the bed, leaving the room. A few moments later, he returns and you can feel a towel along your back, cleaning you up before he shifts, sliding closer to your body.

Seonghwa’s arms carefully wrap around you, pulling your body towards him. You curl up against his chest, eyes closing. He’s kissing the top of your head, his fingers trailing along your back in gentle touches. All his earlier energy is gone, depleted, and now he is soft and inviting.

You tilt your face to look at Seonghwa, reaching upwards to graze his jawline with your fingertips. He kisses them too. Would it be so wrong to have everything with him? To be so adored and loved with someone who has known you forever? His eyes are cutting through your defenses, nuzzling into the soft spot of your brain that should know better.

Your lips find his.

A cloud covers the moon.

You’re wearing just one of Seonghwa’s shirts, sitting on the edge of his bed in the morning light. He left twenty minutes ago to get coffee from your favourite spot, leaving you alone in his apartment.

You’re thinking about him.

You’re thinking about the soft kisses he gave you upon waking, his smile that you know so well, the way he looked shirtless in the morning light.

He had cupped your cheek, said he was going to get coffee and you felt a pang at him leaving, even for just a little while. Even just for twenty minutes.

Relief swoops through you when the front door opens, and Seonghwa calls your name. He comes down the hallway and stops in the doorway. His jacket is already removed, just wearing a hastily thrown on Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He places one coffee cup on his dresser, running his fingers through his hair with his hand. He’s smiling, sitting down next to you.

“I missed you,” He admits bashfully, holding onto your coffee, his eyes dropping to your lap, “Should I keep it?”

Your hands are curled around the handle of the axe. You look at the blade; your reflection is distorted. He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering at you, waiting for your choice. Everything with Seonghwa is your choice because he loves you so much. He doesn’t question that you’ve been sitting in his bed, holding his axe, lost in thought.

You’ve been thinking about what is right, what’s wrong and what you want.

You kiss his forehead, and he makes a noise of contentment.

“You should keep it,” You declare, shifting the axe into his lap carefully. “Just in case.”

Seonghwa grins cheerfully.

“Yeah, just in case.”

the end.

#ateez fics #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fics #seonghwa smut #the heart's filthy lesson #kpop fic #100 notes #500 notes

1K notes · View notes

love-that-we-were-in · 1 month

Text

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes.

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.”

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.”

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see.

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party.

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly.

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.”

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.”

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets.

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.”

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead.

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick.

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?”

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table.

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game.

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win.

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet.

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?”

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.”

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond.

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more.

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this.

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night.

“Why aren’t you ready?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.”

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?”

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way.

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around.

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap.

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more.

“Fancy a rematch?”

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose.

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.”

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.”

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.”

“How many beers have you had?”

“Three, I think?”

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you.

So you say it anyway.

“I bet I could outdrink you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition.

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight.

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?”

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.”

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.”

“Are you going to?”

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?”

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.”

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.”

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head.

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once.

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch.

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest.

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building.

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting.

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again.

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms.

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway.

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?”

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes.

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.”

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.”

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.”

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system.

“You ever blown a smoke ring?”

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now.

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?”

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes.

“We can share.”

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea.

“You’re on, Castellan.”

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular.

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore.

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you.

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close.

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby.

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen.

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.”

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.”

“I know you hooked up with Luke.”

“Seriously?”

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.”

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.”

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.”

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight.

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy.

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend.

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight.

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does.

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?”

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t.

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it.

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter.

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

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fairyofshampgyu · 26 days

Text

☆ Lost !

genre: smut, fairy au

pairing: sub fairy ! gyu x dom human ! reader

synopsis: in essence, eating out the mischievous and immensely pretty fairy beomgyu as a bargain when you find yourself lost in the forest.

warnings: boy pussy gyu !!! sub! gyu, dom! reader, beomgyu’s kinda a brat, degrading, squirting, overstim, eating out, fingering, hair pulling, pussy slapping, dacryphilia

word count: 1.5k

You wandered aimlessly through the forest at wits end. You’d been here for hours trying to find your back out but the forest was much like an ever changing maze. As soon as you thought you’d found a way out, the trees and plants would shift and morph into completely different pathways, rendering you hopeless and frustrated.

It was only getting darker as well, much to your distress. And you didn’t want to stick around to know what the place would be like at night. You knew of the stories.

Just when despair threatened to overwhelm you, you stumbled upon a small clearing bathed in soft light, the ground carpeted with lush moss, and delicate flowers blooming in vibrant hues, mushrooms clustered around the perimeter.

In the centre, sat a figure amidst a bed of wildflowers, weaving intricate crowns with his hands—a fairy. He was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen. Flower crown sitting on his long, silky, soft hair cascaded across his ethereally sculpted face. Face and body all glittery and shimmery and his cheeks were so naturally pink and blushed. You were quite in awe honestly.

His gaze lingers on you with a mix of curiosity and amusement, eyes sparkling with mischief and an impish grin playing upon his lips as he regarded you with some sort of knowing gaze, still continuing to make his flower crowns.

“Lost, are we?” He raises a brow, seemingly finding your predicament humorous.

“Yes.” You stand tall, trying to appear more confident to the fairy. You also didn’t think it was funny at all. When he doesn’t say anything but chuckle in response and directs his attention to his flower crowns again, you speak up, irritated with his behaviour. “You’re a fairy aren’t you? You’d know the way out?”

“…Yes” He looks up at you again, still smiling annoyingly.

“So…Show me then?.”

“Hmm…” He faux ponders, finger to his lips and grinning, “I don’t think i will.”

Your eyebrows furrow, patience wearing thin. “Why not?”

“Because it’s funny seeing humans so helpless.” Beomgyu's laughter fills the air as he shakes his head, eyes dancing with amusement.

You just stand in disbelief. The sun had already set now! Fear and desperation already starting to kick in that you find yourself begging and pleading the fairy instead of blowing up in pure anger at him. “Just show me the way. Please! I’d do anything.”

His ears perk at that. “Kiss me.”

“What?!”

“If you kiss me good enough, I’ll help you.” He sits back back, lips curled in a grin and trying to stile his laugh. You want to slap it off his face.

You scoff incredulously.

“What? Don’t want to kiss me?” Brow raised as if testing you. Like he didn’t think you actually would. It pissed you off even more. You’d heard fairies loved to make stupid deals for absolutely no reason.

He still stares up at you, completely delighted, waiting. You roll your eyes, reluctantly approaching him on the ground of moss, grabbing a fistful of his shirt rather roughly and tugging him closer to you. He seems to like it though, getting excited.

Looking down at his lips, you can’t even deny how enticing they looked. Pretty and plump and round and glossy. You’d heard of the fairies being pretty seducing. You can’t say you’re not completely entranced by the pretty boy right now.

You’ll put him in his place.

So you smash your lips with his, making out with him fervently, both your mouths moving and smacking against each other and the pretty boy is so into it, already getting worked up by how aggressively you kiss him and with no regard. He liked being treated like that so much. You bite at his bottom lip and he gasps, you continuing to suck harshly and bite at them.

It practically feels like you’re melting, you don’t what it is but his lips were so soft and…everything.

You begin the attack on his pretty neck instead, trailing rough kisses down and leaving purple and pink marks in return, hand entangling in the strands of his long hair, tugging and pulling that makes him whine into your mouth even louder, pulling on his hair roughly and leaving hickeys on his sensitive neck. You don’t even know how long it goes on for.

Suddenly, your pulling away and it makes him pout and huff, eyes dazed but frows burrowing and trying to pull you back into him but you hold onto his dainty wrists and stop him, shoving him down on the ground again.

Instead, you move down on the grass and grip his pretty little thighs concerningly tight, spreading his legs, met with his panties that don’t do much to cover anything what with the wet patch on them now. You chuckle and he tries to close his legs in embarrassment but you open them wider, lightly tracing your fingers on his clothed pussy that makes him positively squirm and squeal. So sensitive…

You continue to tease him, lightly brushing and thumbing over his panties until he’s fully drenched and whimpering over the light contact. He can’t take it anymore.

“Take them off… actually touch mee” Beomgyu whines brattily, groaning and panting.

“Beg for it. Then I’ll see.”

It shuts him up instantly, pouting and furrowing his brows again, as if contemplating whether it was worth it, “Don’t want to.”

“Brat.” You stop all contact and he’s quick to blurt his pleads out instantly in distress. It’s entertaining seeing the fairy like this now.

Roughly tugging his cute panties to the side, you stop in your tracks momentarily. It’s the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen in your life, puffy and pink and glistening, so wet already, practically dripping onto the ground it’s insane. It’s making you so insane.

You don’t waste any time, licking a long stripe of his pussy from his clit to his hole and it has him taking a sharp intake of breath, you can feel his thighs shake in your grip just from that and his eyes close shut, positively squealing and squirmy.

You bury your face in him after that, scent so sweet and you begin to practically make out with his pussy, flicking your tongue over his clit then wrapping your entire lips around them, sucking harshly and he’s shivering immensely, prettiest choked up moans coming out of him, head reeling back and mouth agape.

Still sucking on his pretty clit, you bring two of your other fingers to his hole, not giving him a second of reprieve, and shoving them inside his warm and tight pussy, fingering him at the same speed you suck on him, hammering them into him, his head lolled back and his eyes almost cross eyed, dumbly drooling.

It’s not long before you can feel him clamp down on your fingers so tight, and he’s cumming, legs and thighs shaking like a leaf, seeing starts he doesn’t even know what to do, prettiest most mellifluous sounds eliciting from his lips.

It was a sight to see, whole body completely flushed, hair all tousled and messed up and damp from the sweat, eyebrows creased and eyes closing open and shut, eyelashes fluttering sexily kissing the tops of his red cheeks, plump lips parted and jaw slack. He looked so slutty.

But you don’t break away, instead you grip on the sides of his hips probabaly bruising them and pulling him onto your face even further, tongue flat on his clit as he merely mewls and cries, way too sensitive. It hurts but it also feels too good, he shakes his head nonetheless, squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering.

“T-too muchhh” The fairy sniffles, trying so hard to shut his trembling legs.

“Slut. Stay still.” You forcefully keep his legs open, gripping even tighter onto the flesh of his thighs. You reach your hand up and lightly slap his abused cunt, he yelps almost instantly.

“Say it. Tell me how much of a slut you are.”

He can’t get the words out, can’t even think to get the words out of his mouth as you continuously slap his now even more swollen, absolutely pink puffy pussy.

“hah-! fffuu, m’ just a slut!” He cries and wails. “Just your slut.” There’s tears streaming down his face now, sobbing, doe eyed and glassy, so so, so, so pretty.

He trembles and shakes even more if it were possible, legs thrashing and thighs clenching when you feel his juices gush out and squirting, screaming and squirming, not expecting to squirt, eyes rolling straight to the back of his head.

You lap up all his juices and press a final little kiss to his pussy before you completely stop.

The pretty fairy boy goes limp, laying in the bed of flowers, panting and gasping heavily, so embarrassed from squirting, he attempts to hide face in his hands, face so incredibly pink and flushed. But you’re taking his hand away so you can cup his hot cheeks and coo at him, kissing at his forehead instead.

When he’s finally recovered, his mouth curls into a playful grin gazing at you as you both lay next to each other in the flowers, his eyes sparkling with mischief again.

“Good enough for you?” You sarcastically ask him, knowing how absolutely disheveled he looked right now, the sweat only making his glittery face and body even more shiny and ethereal.

He chuckles, still breathless and nods. “Too good even, I might not want to let you go. Kinda want to keep you forever~”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: just don’t ask…this is super messy and makes no sense I’m sorry 🤞

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #sub!beomgyu #beomgyu hard hours #choi beomgyu smut #sub txt #sub!txt #sub! idol #sub!idol #sub! txt #sub beomgyu #kpop smut #dom reader

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narryffdreaming · 24 days

Text

Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't)

Summary: It all started with the prompt "we're not just friends and you fucking know it", and then it turned into several short scenes about two people who are supposed to be just friends, except they aren't.

ONE-SHOT AU, friends to lovers, angst, romance, sweetness, smut +18 (explicit language and explicit sexual content) 25k words

It took less than five minutes for a girl to approach him.

Maisy sighed and leaned back in her chair, sipping her almost-empty-drink and watching the scene take place right in front of her.

To be fair, she wasn't surprised. In fact, before Harry had left the table to get another round of drinks, she'd thought about making a joke and bet how long it would take for a girl to divert him from his task. In the end, she didn't say anything, of course. First because she worried he wouldn't find it funny, but mostly because she was afraid he would see right through her words and notice how terrified she was about the possibility of seeing him with someone else.

So, yeah, she wasn't surprised, but that still didn't mean she wasn't upset. After all, she had spent the entire day secretly hoping things between them would be different now.

"You're staring," Niall muttered next to her, taking the seat Harry had been occupying until a couple of minutes ago. "Already told ya, if you want him, talk to him."

Maisy scoffed, shaking her head as if she could also shake his words away. Niall was sweet, but he was also oblivious to the fact that Harry already knew about her feelings and, still, nothing had changed. Although, if she really thought about it, maybe things were even worse now.

Ugh, why was he acting like that? Why did he keep pretending nothing had happened?

Harry was one of her closest friends, and one of the things she loved the most about him was how sweet and thoughtful he was to everyone around him, especially to those he cared about. That's who he'd been to her since the first day, at least. So even if he didn't feel the same, surely she wasn't expecting for him to simply ignore her feelings.

Over a week had passed and she hadn't talked to anyone about it. As the days went by, it became obvious that the more she thought about what had happened, the more anxious she felt. She figured she deserved to be honest and talk to someone, so she straightened her body and pushed her shoulders back, turning towards Niall and taking a deep breath before finally letting the words out of her mouth.

"We kissed."

Niall pulled his beer away from his face and turned his head, facing her with an open mouth and widened eyes. "Wha—Who? You and Harry?"

Maisy nodded, and Niall jerked his body closer.

"What the fuck?! You two kissed? When? How?!"

His reaction made her chuckle, but she dismissed his excitement by shrugging and finishing her drink before speaking again—as if the story wasn't that important or that interesting (and as if they both didn't know that was obviously a lie).

"He just came over last week and… I don't know. We kissed?"

It sounded more like a question, like she wasn't sure it had actually happened. But it had. The kiss was real. It had happened and it had made her feel all kinds of different and exciting things. And now she couldn't stop thinking about doing it again. And again. And again.

"Right," Niall scoffed. "Just like that? After five years hanging out together, out of nowhere, you both just thought you know what? Let's kiss today. Might be fun!?"

Maisy didn't know how to answer that, so she rolled her eyes and laughed lightly. Niall definitely had a point, and maybe in a couple of weeks—or months, or years—she'd be able to explain it better, but right then and there she honestly didn't have an answer. It wasn't supposed to happen and it definitely was not what she had in mind when she invited him over, but they were having fun and laughing and at some point she felt something shift in the air and she just… She just kissed him.

Just like that.

Maisy kissed Harry.

And then Harry kissed Maisy.

A lot.

The memory made her cheeks turn hot, and her belly fluttered. She turned back to the table and looked down, fixing her eyes on her fingers and picking at her nails.

Niall must have sensed her uneasiness, because he didn't pressure for an explanation, moving on to the next question with a softer tone.

"Does he know you like him, then?"

Maisy shrugged.

"He must know. I mean, he has to know…" She tapped her foot on the ground, narrowing her eyes as she stared at her fingertips, "right?"

She lifted her eyes just a second, just to question him, and Niall dropped his shoulders.

He moved closer, throwing his arm over the back of her chair. "Isy…"

She shook her head, then focused back on her nails. "You said it yourself, Ni, we hang out all the time… And, I mean, he stays over a lot, and we cuddle, we hold hands… I don't do that with everyone. You know that. He knows that. And also, I don't know, why would I kiss him like that? Out of nowhere?"

"Because it wasn't out of nowhere."

"Exactly!" She looked up, and her eyes landed on Harry once more. Maisy sighed. "It wasn't."

The girl was still there, talking to him, casually laughing and flipping her hair. And Harry seemed really into it, happily paying attention and nodding to whatever the girl was saying. Smirking so fondly that Maisy could even see his dimple.

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled.

"God," Maisy laughed bitterly and shortly, rubbing her forehead as she looked away. "I'm so stupid."

"Isy," Niall sighed, "Stop. You're not stupid."

"I am, though." She shrugged. "It's just… He never looked at me that way, you know?"

Her voice cracked, and she took both hands up to her face, hiding behind them with an exaggerated grunt. "Fucking stupid…"

Niall took his hand to her shoulder and sighed, offering half a hug as he squeezed her gently. "That's not fair, Isy. You know how incredibly amazing you are. And to be honest you're just so out of his league. So much better than anyone he could ever date. So he is the stupid one for not seeing what's right in front of him, ok?"

Maisy shook her head. She knew Niall meant well, but she also felt like he didn't understand where she was coming from. See, Maisy knew that Harry liked her, and how much he trusted her — after all, that's why they were friends in the first place. She knew that she was important to him and that she was the first person he'd call or the one he'd run to when he needed something. She knew Harry would let her cry on his shoulder, hold her, share a bed with her, and listen to whatever she had to say. Dates would come and go in his life, but she was still there and he wouldn't let go of her.

So it wasn't like he didn't know what (or who) was in front of him.

Harry just didn't fancy her. Simply as that. He didn't dream about her in the same way she dreamed about him. And he had never treated her the same way he treated the girls he fancied on their nights out. He had never offered to buy her a drink just because he thought she was pretty, nor had tucked her hair behind her ear just to kiss her neck. He'd never rested his hand on her leg under the table, nor whispered in her ear how badly he wanted to take her home.

Harry had never shown any signs of being physically attracted to her, and that really, really, freaking fucking sucked. Because there was nothing she could do about that. She couldn't force him to want her like she wanted him.

"Do you want to leave?" Niall squeezed her shoulder. "'Cause I think we should."

Maisy nodded, then dropped her hands down to the table. "Yeah, please. Let's just go."

"Ok, great." He smiled, relieved at the idea of taking his best friend away from there. "'M just gonna pee and we'll go, ok? Be right back."

Nodding to Niall's words and watching him walk away, Maisy couldn't help but glance over them one more time.

Without a doubt, if Maisy had a choice, she wouldn't actively compare herself to others, knowing it was an unhealthy and worthless habit. Then again, she didn't notice she was doing it until it was too late and her throat felt too dry to even breathe. Because everything about the girl standing in front of Harry seemed perfect, and everything about Maisy sitting at that table by herself seemed ridiculous — she hadn't even at least showered after work, for God's sake!

There were so many differences between her and that girl that it seemed impossible not to feel embarrassed about even thinking something could happen between them, or about even feeling something just platonic for him.

Besides the fact that the girl was extremely attractive, or that her hair was long, wavy and shiny, or that her dress hugged her figure amazingly, it was obvious that her body language screamed confidence and determination.

And she wasn't doing anything wrong, really, but Maisy wanted to push her away from him as soon as she saw her raise her body to whisper in his ear, touching Harry's arm and making him smile. It only got worse when Harry leaned in and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl's ear, letting his hand slide from her shoulder to her hand, and then resting it on her waist. He smirked, then whispered something back to her.

"'M back, let's go." Niall stood in front of her, frowning while blocking up her view. "'M gonna walk you home, then I'm gonna punch Harry's fucking stupid face. C'mon."

— — — — —

Maisy had a feeling it was Harry as soon as she heard the knock on her door, hence why she wasn't surprised to see him standing in the middle of the hallway. Still, it was barely past midnight, so seeing him there didn't make much sense—wasn't he supposed to be with the girl?

"Heyyy Haz!" She smiled, trying her best to appear nonchalant despite the fact that she had just spent thirty minutes crying over him in the shower. "Thought you were still at the pub."

"Can I come in?"

The tone of his voice was one she couldn't recognize, and Maisy froze for a moment. She blinked at him, taking in the intensity behind his glare and the tension all over his face. Her smile faltered, and she furrowed her brows.

"I—Yes." She took a step aside and raised his hand, showing him the way as if he hadn't simply barged in any other time up until then. "Of course."

Harry stared ahead and walked in, radiating so much tension and heat that Maisy's heart skipped a beat, then immediately sped up. She swallowed, closing the door before following his steps to the living room.

As seconds went by, he didn't turn to look at her, and she was able to spot a slight trace of red lipstick on his neck. It was hard not to picture him and the girl together, but it was even harder not to think about how it had felt to tangle her own fingers through his curls while tasting that same bit of skin. And it hurt that, no matter how much she wished she could kiss him again, somebody else had done that already just earlier that night.

"Are you ok?" she asked, pushing the memories away. "Did—Did something happen?"

Harry snorted. "I don't know. You tell me."

Maisy frowned, scrunching up her face and blinking a few times while trying (and miserably failing) to organize her thoughts.

"What? I—What's… What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry remained silent, though, and her chest tightened. Closing her hands into fists, she licked her lips and took a breath in, then looked him up and down.

"Haz, please…" her voice trembled, but she still tried. "What's going on? Talk to me."

Nothing changed, and she swallowed.

"Can you at least look at me? Please? I don't—"

"Why?!" He turned around, then, so abruptly that Maisy's mouth fell open as she took a step back.

"Why didn't you talk to me? Huh?!" Harry glared at her, his jaw tightened and his brows snapped together while he threw his hands in the air and raised his voice. "Why did I have to go through a massive fight with Niall to find out that you have—That you—I mean—" he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. A moment passed while he took a deep breath, only for him to give a humorless laugh right after. "Jesus, it's so absurd I can't even say it."

"What…Why—Why are you so mad at me?" She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing Harry wasn't making any sense, but at the same time scared for what she thought he was implying. Had Niall gone back to the pub? He had walked her home only a couple of hours earlier, they'd talked a little, she'd cried on his shoulder, and then he'd left. She hadn't thought about where he would go next, just assuming he'd go straight back to his place, but maybe she'd been wrong? She just… She didn't… What was happening? "I—I didn't do anything. I don't even… I don't even know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the fact that Niall just yelled at me for half an hour for apparently breaking your heart, Maisy. That's what I'm talking about!"

There was a pause. A long and painful pause.

Harry's chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, fists clenched while his arms remained at his sides and he glared at her.

Standing a few feet across from him, Maisy's eyes welled up with tears. She knew Harry like she knew the palm of her hand, and out of all the times she'd imagined him finding out, anger had never been present. Shock? Sure. Sadness? Yes. Worry? Also yes. Pity? Almost every time. She'd imagined many things, and different emotions. Everything. Anything. But never that.

She'd never thought he would ever throw words at her so carelessly, so loudly, and so harshly. On top of that, she also didn't think she deserved them. Because, really, what had she done besides stupidly falling in love with him? She'd never gotten in his way nor stopped him from living his life. So, yeah, truly—why was he so mad at her?

She swallowed down her tears and clenched her teeth, blinking rapidly as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

"Oh, I see." She took a step closer and nodded, straightening her body and allowing her hands to talk along with her own raising voice. "So what? Niall tells you that you broke my heart and this is your reaction? What the hell Harry?! Did you really think this was a good idea? Coming back to my place in the middle of the night just to yell at me?! What were you thinking?!"

Harry flinched, and blinked. A mix of emotions flashed through his eyes, until he settled with anger once again.

"Of course I didn't think or plan this, Maisy! That's exactly why I'm here. I'm trying to understand because it doesn't make any sense!"

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Everything was fine, Maisy!"

She rolled her eyes and looked away, taking her hand up to pull her hair back and letting him say whatever he wanted to say.

"So I don't get it, ok?! I don't! And we were having fun tonight! Man I met this amazing girl, and was just about to take her home when Niall started yelling at me. For fucks sake! Out of nowhere! Of course she left and now I'm—"

"Okay, okay. Stop," she interrupted, holding her palms up and staring back at him. "Just… Just stop, please."

Harry frowned even deeper, and a long, low sigh fell through Maisy's lips. There was no point in arguing with him, and she knew that.

"I get it, okay?" she added. "And I'm very sorry for ruining your night with this amazing girl. I swear I didn't mean to. I left the pub just so I could come home and cry by myself. So trust me, I didn't want to bother you with this, ok? And I swear to God I didn't want Niall to go back and tell you about it. I didn't want any of this to happen. So I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

She dropped her weight on the couch and breathed in, then slowly rubbed her temples and breathed out.

It was the realization of how exhausted she sounded that made Harry stop and pay attention to her for the first time since she'd opened the door. He noticed the lack of energy, the way she covered her face, the way she hunched her body as if she needed to hug herself. As if she needed to protect herself.

It only took one second and one attentive glance for all of his anger to melt away, and a big wave of guilt crashed into him.

Unfortunately, though, Harry didn't know how to handle that situation. It was a new dynamic between them, a new path for a friendship that wasn't supposed to take that turn. So he continued justifying himself, although much more carefully than before.

"It took me by surprise, y'know? That's all. I was—" He shut his mouth and shook his head, exhaling before going back to explaining himself. "It doesn't matter. The thing is that Niall just came out of nowhere, so mad at me, Isy… I couldn't understand what was going on, and then he was blaming me for breaking your heart and talking about how you—saying that you have—I mean—That you have—"

"That I have, what?" With closed eyes, she dug her fingertips into her forehead, then shrugged. "Just say it, Harry, c'mon."

He frowned, unable to move.

"Is it true? Do you?"

"Again, what?" Letting out a hollow laugh, she dropped her hands down to her lap and looked at him. "You have to at least say it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't make sense! It— it can't be true. We are just friends and—"

"Oh, c'mon Harry!" She stood up, taking a step forward if only to make sure he wouldn't ignore her next words. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

"No! I don't—I mean, yes. Yes we are. We're just friends, Isy!"

"Just friends? Really?"

"Yes!"

"Well…" She shrugged, and looked away. "Not to me then, I'm sorry."

Harry took a step back and widened his eyes. And then, he blinked, pulling his hair back with one hand and resting the other on his hip before glancing down at his own feet.

Maisy sighed. A tiny part of her wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him up, and yell at him to wake up. Just shout at him. Prove him wrong.

However, she had no more energy to fight him. Not about that, at least. Her body felt too heavy to even move and her heart had changed into a slow thud inside her numb chest. Harry was her favorite person, but at that moment all she wanted was to be alone. It wasn't her intention to make him angry, let alone disappoint him, and knowing that she'd put them both in that situation only made her feel even more ashamed.

So she decided to be honest. Too exhausted to argue, she decided to stop fighting or running away and just say what she'd been thinking since she'd left the pub earlier that night.

"Look… I don't think we're just friends, Haz. I'm just friends with Niall. I've known him for over 10 years and I've never kissed him. God, I never even thought about kissing him. He slept over plenty of times, but he never asked to cuddle with me, and he never held me the way that you do. Last week I… I kissed you and you kissed me back, Harry. And maybe I got it wrong, but… But you really made me feel like you fucking wanted to, y'know? We weren't drunk, we kissed for hours and we didn't even have sex. We kissed and then you stayed and you fell asleep with your arms around me. And then you woke up and you—" Her voice cracked, and she knew she needed to take a deep breath if she wanted to continue. Maybe reliving every single detail was too much, maybe she didn't need to do that. "Anyway, no, ok? No. You and me, Harry? We're not just friends, and even if you can't say it out loud or believe it's true, I do have feelings for you. I've had feelings for you for a long time now and to be honest, yeah, you really… I'm sorry but you really broke my heart tonight."

Even with all the chatter around him, Harry caught the soft thump of someone's boots across the busy studio. It was like his mind was searching for the perfect excuse to get distracted, because he instantly dropped the task he was supposed to be doing and focused on the sound, instead. From there on, every noise caught his attention — Nina's fingers tapping against the keyboard, Johnny's phone ringing, Jenny and Patrick laughing as they filled their mugs with coffee, Maria and Julia whispering by the windows.

Despite not seeing anyone, he somehow kept up with everyone's movements and conversations. Meanwhile, displayed on the screen in front of him, the design he was supposed to be working on since he'd arrived that morning—and that he was also supposed to deliver to a client in less than thirty-six hours—remained untouched.

"You look like shit," Niall's voice pointed out from behind him, and Harry stiffened on his seat.

He knew Niall had been right behind him all along. Of course he knew. It wasn't as if he could've expected anything differently. After all, that's how the two had met: they'd joined the agency on the same day and were assigned to sit back to back from each other, then the rest was history.

Since then, that monday was the first day in over five years they still hadn't said even one word to each other. It was weird, to be honest, but they were both still resentful from the events of last friday's night, and too stubborn to handle the situation any differently.

So, yeah. To sum it up, Harry knew Niall had been there all along, but he wasn't expecting to engage in a conversation with him. Not yet. Not for another couple of days.

Still, Harry cleared his throat, and shrugged.

"Yeah, well…" he said, keeping his eyes on the screen. "I feel like shit."

Niall made a sound that resembled a hum, but then got quiet. And Harry wasn't sure of what he could say next, or if there was anything to say at all, so he breathed in and waited in silence.

No matter how confusing the latest events of his life had been, if there was one thing Harry was still sure of, it was that Niall and Maisy cared about each other like brother and sister. And that whilst he'd been easily welcomed into the group by the two of them, their friendship already lasted for over a decade, so it would always come first. And he was ok with that, he understood that. Niall knew Maisy in a different way than Harry did, and she would tell Niall things that she would never talk to him about, so there was no point in competing with them. It wasn't even something he would ever try to do, to be honest.

"So…" Niall cleared his throat. "You went to Isy's."

And there it was.

Harry closed his eyes.

See? Of course Niall already knew about that.

Sure, it didn't bother him, and it also wasn't a surprise, but… What was he supposed to say? He didn't even think Niall would want to talk to him, so what was he supposed to expect out of that conversation? As far as Harry knew, he had broken Maisy's heart and she wasn't talking to him anymore. And that was it. He had fucked everything up — before he even knew there was something to fuck up in the first place.

Bloody hell.

Harry sighed, then glanced at the screen in front of him.

To be completely honest, he had spent the last 48 hours trying to understand what the hell had happened, wincing every time he remembered Maisy's words and shuddering every time he thought about how he'd left her crying by herself on the couch.

Those same 48 hours had made him feel all over the place, everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He was all by himself the entire weekend, locked at home, having to occupy his mind with random, meaningless and stupid little things so he wouldn't drown in his own thoughts. Surely, it wasn't the first time they hadn't seen or talked to each other for a couple of days — although it was something rare to happen — but it was the way they'd left things that kept tormenting him.

He still had so many questions, because he needed so many answers. He wanted to know more about what had happened, about what had changed, or when, or why…

And he was also desperate to know what would happen next, because… Well… What was he even supposed to do after all that?

Harry rolled his chair around, getting himself out of his own spiraling thinking.

Niall was already facing him, glaring at him. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs extended forward, clenching his jaw and flaring his nostrils as if he was trying to set Harry on fire.

Clearly, it was safe to say Niall was still mad at him. And Harry didn't blame him — he was mad at himself, too.

He rolled his shoulders, and finally asked, "Did she tell you about it?"

Niall shrugged once. Briefly and quickly. "Kinda."

Harry nodded. He took one of his hands out of the pocket of his jumper and lifted it to the back of his neck, then massaged some of the stiffness away. There were so many things he wanted to ask, it was hard to choose where to start. He also didn't want to say the wrong thing and have Niall trying to physically fight him again. Things were already bad enough as they were, there was no need to add more drama into it.

Moving his hand from his neck to his face, he dragged his eyes to the floor and pinched his lip, pulling the skin as he voiced the next question.

"When did you see her?"

"Yesterday."

Harry nodded again, eyes still on the floor and fingers still on his bottom lip.

Across from him, Niall narrowed his eyes. He wasn't just messing around when he'd said Harry looked like shit. A beanie hid his hair, his shoulders were rigid, he hadn't shaved, his jaw was clenched, and he kept constantly squeezing his eyebrows together. Also, judging by the bags under his eyes, he didn't seem to be sleeping that well — or he didn't seem to be sleeping at all.

Should he be worried? He'd checked on Maisy a lot, but maybe he should've checked on Harry as well, because maybe this whole situation had also messed him up, even if for different reasons. Maybe Harry also needed a friend.

Shit.

Niall took a deep breath and uncrossed his arms, letting his shoulders fall as he straightened his back. "You honestly look like shit mate, did you sleep at all this weekend?"

Harry finally glanced over, shaking his head.

"I'm just…" He pressed his lips together, scratching his jaw before letting both of his hands fall on his lap. "She hasn't been answering any of my calls."

Niall lifted then dropped his eyebrows, nodding as if he knew exactly what Harry was talking about.

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged. "I don't think she will, to be honest."

Harry nodded, and looked away.

He probably deserved that.

— — — — —

"Thanks," Harry said to the waitress as she placed two beers and some fries on the table.

As soon as she walked away, he grabbed a bottle and took a sip, giving himself a few more seconds before asking the question he really wanted to ask.

"How is she?"

Niall's hand was full of fries, midway to his mouth, and Harry didn't miss the way he froze for one second before looking at him and engulfing them. He didn't finish eating before answering, mumbling the words as he chewed, "She's hurt. And you know how she gets when she's hurt."

"Fuck." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pulling his head back and sighing to the ceiling. It killed him to know he'd been the one to make Maisy suffer, it killed him that she didn't let him hold her when she cried, and it killed him how she begged him to leave her alone because his presence was only making it worse. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I would never mean that."

Niall scoffed, and Harry glanced down again. He found his friend eating fries absently, as if he wasn't part of the conversation anymore. Scanning them carefully before picking one and shoving it into his mouth. And then another one.

Harry frowned. "What? You know I didn't mean to hurt her, right?"

Niall peeked at him through the corner of his eyes.

"Well…" He tilted his head from side to side, then shifted on his seat and rubbed his hands together, cleaning up the salt. "Look, you didn't mean it. Fine. But I don't think you worried about it either, alright? I mean, you walked to the bar to get Isy a drink and didn't come back 'cause you wanted to hook up with some random chick. Which, by the way, was already a problem in the first place 'cause she had to watch you flirting around. But then, after I told you she has feelings for you, you went back to hers and blamed her for not getting laid? That's fucked up man, c'mon."

"She told you I blamed her for not getting laid?"

Niall lifted his eyebrows. "Didn't you?"

"I—I don't know, I was just freaking out. You saw when I left the pub, I wasn't even thinking."

"Clearly," Niall snickered, then looked around the pub as he took a deep breath. "Look, she didn't want to say anything 'cause she didn't want to lose your friendship… And, yeah, maybe part of this mess it's on me, 'cause… Well, 'cause I told you about it, alright? But… Mate… Look, you didn't see how hurt she was when she saw you at the bar, ok? You didn't think about her, and that really, really pissed me off."

Rubbing his jaw, Harry rolled his neck and sighed. It was true, Harry didn't see how much it hurt Maisy to see him at the bar. He actually didn't even know Maisy was watching as the girl approached him, but even if he did, he wouldn't have thought it was something that would hurt her. Sure, she would probably tease him for ditching them, or pinch him for leaving her waiting for her drink… But feeling hurt? As far as he knew, that wasn't even an alternative.

"I don't… I don't get it." He shrugged. "It's not like she never saw me with a girl before. I mean, I've been single since we met, and that's over five years, man. She's the one who had a boyfriend for two fucking years and you never saw me say a word about it."

"Huh," Niall scoffed, curving his lips up as he took his beer to his mouth. He took a sip, then murmured behind the bottle, "I had no idea Maisy having a boyfriend bothered you."

Harry tilted his own bottle, pointing at him. "That's not what I said. My point is, she knows I hook up every now and then. We always talked about it, and it was never a problem before."

Rolling his eyes, Niall sighed. Harry was really getting on his nerves with those stupid doubts.

"Well, obviously, this time was different."

"But why? Why was it different this time? What changed?"

"What changed?" Niall laughed, humorlessly and unbelievably, banging his beer against the table and inching forward. He wouldn't expect a kiss to mean something when it came to random hook ups, but he also wouldn't expect Harry to treat Maisy like a random hook up. Harry knew her better than that. And Maisy deserved better than that. Harry couldn't just kiss her and act as if it hadn't happened. He just couldn't. Niall wouldn't allow that. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Or are you just that stupid?!"

"Wha—"

"You two fucking kissed, mate! C'mon!"

"I—"

"You do remember that, right?"

Harry scoffed. "Of course I remember!"

"Of course you remember." Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling at how dense his friend could be. "Then what? Are you trying to pretend it didn't happen?"

Harry shook his head and stared down at his hands, one of them holding the bottle as the other played with the sticker on it. Of course he wasn't trying to pretend their kiss hadn't happened. He just didn't think it was something that would happen between them, and when it did, he didn't think it would go further than that. He didn't think Maisy saw him that way. Maybe at first, years ago, when they'd just met. But once he realized she'd put him in the friendzone, he didn't think he would ever get out of there. And he'd made peace with that. He put the idea away and locked it inside his mind. But he also wasn't sure if any of that made sense, and he didn't want to say something that would make it seem as if he didn't care about Maisy. Because he did. He cared about her way too much to lose her.

"I'm not—" Shit. How was he supposed to explain what was going through his mind? "I'm not trying to pretend it didn't happen, that's—that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know." He shrugged, feeling a sour taste in his mouth. "I guess… I guess I just didn't think she was expecting something different from me, that's all."

The pause that followed his answer was filled with tension. Harry kept fidgeting with the bottle in his hand, taking deep breaths to clear out his mind. Or perhaps to relieve the memories of that day. Trying to understand why it should've been so obvious to him that Maisy expected more out of them when she didn't say anything about it. Why should've been so obvious to him, when she didn't act any differently the next morning? Why should've been so obvious to him, when she'd barely texted him back the next day? And why should've been so obvious to him if, when he'd invited her to go out for a drink, she'd been the one to suggest that Niall tagged along?

"Anyway…" Niall said, then put more fries inside his mouth and chewed. After a second, he swallowed, then added, "Everything would've probably been just fine if you hadn't freaked out on her. That was really stupid."

"Right." Harry raised an eyebrow, eying his friend from across the table. "Can you blame me, though? You shoved me over those tables and tried to punch me, mate! Out of nowhere. Did you really need to be so fucking dramatic?"

Niall shifted on his seat, chuckling under his breath as he scratched his neck. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that… I told ya, I was really pissed off."

Harry's lips curved into a smile. He shook his head, lifting his beer and finishing the liquid inside while Niall ate more fries.

The tension between them had faded off, so although their conversation died for a couple minutes, things didn't feel awkward anymore. Still, there were a million things rushing through Harry's mind. Because, truly, what the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn't want to lose Maisy. He really didn't. But she wasn't texting him back, nor answering any of his calls, and he didn't want to be invasive and just show up at her door. He wanted to fix things, not make them worse.

So, playing with the odds, Harry decided to break off the silence and rip off the band-aid that was covering his deepest dilemma.

"What do I do now?"

Niall gulped the fries down, then drummed his fingers on the table and shrugged. "Do you have feelings for her?"

Harry looked away. Did he? Didn't he? How was he supposed to know that? It was a very simple and obvious question, and whereas it didn't surprise him, he wasn't actually expecting to answer it. He didn't know how to, to be honest.

"Can't help you if you don't know what you want, mate," Niall said. "You already know she has feelings for you, so I don't know what you expect me to say… 'Cause either you have feelings for her and go for it, or you don't and you let her go. But there's no way you can pretend nothing happened."

"No, I know that."

"Good. So figure out what you're feeling, and do something about it."

Three weeks later, Maisy saw him again.

Lucie had offered to leave him out of her birthday celebrations, but to be honest Maisy didn't think it was fair to shut him off from his entire group of friends. Even if the only reason why he knew them was because she and Niall had introduced him in the first place.

So there she was, at a gorgeous rooftop club, on a Saturday night, wearing a black top and white pants that she secretly hoped would blow Harry's mind. Showing off as much cleavage as she could, and pairing the high-waist with heels to highlight her curves around her hips. Mingling with the girls, and avoiding Max's hints for a second date. Laughing and chatting with a drink in her hand, while peering at the door and waiting for him to arrive.

It was kind of agonizing, to be honest. And if she didn't know he was giving Niall a ride to the party, she would've already given up by then.

But then she finished her second drink, went to the restroom, and as she made it back to the table, she finally saw them. Harry and Niall. Walking up the stairs that led to the terrace. Half an hour late, and the last ones to arrive.

Knowing it would take them a minute or two to reach the group, Maisy took a step to the side and hid behind Callie, placing a hand on her lower back and encouraging her not to move.

"What's up?" Callie asked, turning her head to the side.

Peering over her friend's shoulder, Maisy shook her head and whispered, "Nothing. He's here."

"Hmmm…" Callie nodded, then took a sip of her drink. "So what? You are moving on, remember? Going out on dates with Max and all that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Maisy rolled her eyes, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. "I just wanna look at him for one second, then I'll move on… I mean, just look at him, Callie… He's hot!"

Callie chuckled and shook her head, and although Maisy couldn't see her, she could imagine her rolling her eyes at those words. Not because she didn't think Harry was handsome, but because she'd already made up her mind about not supporting her feelings for him anymore. Not after seeing how much he'd hurt her. Still, she didn't say anything else, going back to whatever conversation she was having before and letting Maisy enjoy the view.

So that's exactly what she did.

Harry walked with his head low, following Niall's lead and mumbling "excuse me" and "sorry" every time he had to squeeze between bodies. He was wearing her favorite shirt, a custom made checked one he'd gotten last Christmas from his stylist sister, and Maisy bit her lip. He'd left it unbuttoned and layered it over a white t-shirt, its neckline so low that she could see the two swallows facing each other on his chest, as long as his usual gold cross necklace. His curls were shorter and all messed up in his head, and if she didn't know him better, she would've thought he hadn't even remembered to comb his hair after showering. But that wasn't the case, and she was sure it was exactly the look he was going for — it had always killed her how good he looked like that.

"Niall, Harry, over here!" Diana raised her arm and waved her hand, bursting Maisy's tiny bubble.

Moving from behind Callie, Maisy walked to the opposite side of the table and took a seat next to Josh. She smiled at him and Eileen, who had her fingers intertwined with his, and pretended not to see Niall stand right next to Lucie and raise his arms up in the air, or how cheers were thrown around them when they started greeting everyone.

"You ok?" Eileen asked, leaning forward to look at her.

"Of course." Maisy smiled, and nodded.

Was she, though?

Their voices were mixed up with music, laughter and glasses clinking together, but even so she heard Harry's words loud and clear, wishing their mutual friend a happy birthday and thanking her for inviting him. It's been a long time, you definitely look older, he joked, and Maisy had to really force herself to hold back a smile—and maybe even some tears.

It hurt to see him like that—so comfortable, so cute, so friendly, and so hot—knowing she wouldn't be able to touch him like she wished to. Above and beyond, it hurt not being able to sit next to him and just chat, make him laugh, and stare into his green eyes while listening to his deep and slow voice.

She didn't know how to act in front of him anymore, which really bothered her.

Before their fight, or whatever that had been, being friends with Harry had never been difficult, and her feelings for him had never felt like a problem, so being incapable of at least saying 'hello' to him made her feel immature and stupid. There was a weight on her shoulders pressuring her to quickly find a way to handle the situation, and a voice shouting at her that she was a 28 years-old woman who by now had to know how to remain friends and move on.

Honestly, though, why did she let this happen? Why did she kiss him? Why did she tell Niall about the kiss? Why did she have to go and ruin everything?

"You think you'll talk tonight?"

Maisy shrugged. She didn't have to ask Eileen what she meant by that. All of her friends knew about what had happened that Friday night, and they'd all shown different reactions to it. In this case, Eileen was still very supportive of her feelings for Harry, and a firm believer that their friendship was too important and deep to let it die so easily after one mistake.

"I don't think so," she said, focusing on her friend's eyes to avoid the fact that, had it been a month before, she would've already been wrapped around his arms. "What's there to talk, anyway?"

"What if he wants to apologize?"

"Who wants to apologize?" Josh asked, sitting in between the two girls.

"No one—"

"Harry."

"Eileen!"

"Oops!" Eileen covered her mouth with one hand and widened her eyes. "Sorry! Sorry! He won't tell anyone. I promise."

Josh frowned. "Couldn't even if I tried."

Maisy sighed. "It's fine. I just—"

"Hey guys…" Harry's deep voice interrupted their conversation, and they all shut their mouths.

Maisy held her breath and turned her head, tilting her chin up to look at his face. Harry stood right across from her with a soft smile on his face, hunching over the short table to give Eileen a kiss on the cheek and Josh a handshake. Her pulse raced, and her stomach fluttered. Oh God. She couldn't do that. She just… She couldn't.

She really couldn't.

It was too much.

So when he seemed to finally turn his head towards her, her eyes just darted to the other side, and she was up from her seat.

"Niall!" she shouted, her mouth curving into a wide smile as she raised her arm and waved to get her best friend's attention. "Hii!"

And before she knew it, she was off the table and away from him.

— — — — —

The music was louder than before, everyone seemed too drunk and sweaty, and it was definitely time for her to leave. But Maisy was having fun for the first time in three weeks, and she didn't want that feeling to end. She had cried too much, for too many days, and a night of laughter and dancing with her friends was all she needed to step out of that sadness.

Or, well, that's what she'd thought, at least.

Because, see? Maisy was having fun. Until, out of nowhere, her friends decided to start discussing her (nonexistent) lovelife. All over again.

"Horannnnn! C'mere!"

Callie waved, and Maisy dropped her head back.

"Nooooo!" she cried. "Stop!"

"Ladies," Niall said with a huge grin on his face, standing between Callie and Maisy and throwing one arm around each one. "What's the shouting all about?"

"Well…" Eileen said, wiggling her eyebrows and hiding a smirk behind the rim of her drink. "We want to know what's up with Harry."

"What? Why? What did he do now?" Niall dropped Callie and turned towards Maisy, placing both hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "Tell me and I'll kick his ass."

"Nothing!"

She really wanted them to stop. How was she supposed to stop thinking about Harry, if people kept constantly bringing him up?

"Mhm, nothing." Callie said. "He's just been fucking ogling her the entire night, that's all."

"Ohhh, that," Niall chuckled, throwing his arm around Maisy's shoulders one more time and then pulling her closer for half-a-hug. "Yeah, I know."

Lucie and Eileen squeaked, the first one quickly demanding an explanation, "What do you mean, yeah, I know?"

Maisy looked away.

Niall frowned. "Just… Yeah, I know he's been watching her?"

"Okay, but why is he watching her?"

He shrugged. "I guess he's just so used to it that he doesn't even notice, I don't know. You both should talk, though," —he tapped Maisy's shoulder— "he's honestly been miserable at work."

"And who's fault is that? Huh?" Callie straightened her back, crossing her arms on her chest. "Besides, he's too late, we're rooting for Max now."

"Uh, excuse me?" Eileen scoffed. "Honey, there's no way I'm rooting for Max. I'm totally team Harry."

"Yeah, I don't know," Lucie said. "I mean, I always felt like Maisy and Harry were end game, y'know?"

"Girls—"

"But he was such a dick to her!"

"Once, Callie. It was one questionable moment in five years, ok?"

"Yeahh! He's such a sweetheart. I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt."

"Ladies, hey—"

"Well, I don't. Max stepped up in one week and did something Harry couldn't in five years. That's the kind of man I want for my friend."

"Just let them," Maisy whispered, watching the way her three best friends argued about something that had nothing to do with them. And the exact topic she'd been trying to avoid the entire night. She loved them, she knew they meant well, and she knew they were all drunk, but they were definitely ruining the end of her night. She didn't want to talk about Max, and she didn't want to think about Harry. She just wanted to have fun. Why couldn't her friends let her have fun?

"Are you ok?" Niall asked, directly in Maisy's ear, then squeezed her shoulder.

"Mhm." She scoffed, and tilted her chin towards her friends. "I'm pretty sure if I walk out of here right now, they won't even notice."

"Wanna sit and chat for a bit?"

"Nahh…" She shook her head, then looked around, checking out the different groups of people surrounding them. There was a beat of silence between them, loudly filled by the music, and then she added, "I know he's been watching me."

Niall snorted. "Don't we all? Guy doesn't know how to be subtle."

Maisy's lips curled into a smile, and she looked down at her feet. "It doesn't matter, tho. He told me we're just friends, so… I don't know… I don't want to look too much into it."

"Right. Well…" Niall sighed. By then, he'd already chatted with Harry for weeks, till the point where it felt there was nothing left to talk about. So he knew his friend had fucked up things, but he also knew how deeply he regretted it. If things had happened in a different setting, under different circumstances, Harry's reaction would've been also different. Which is why he'd been feeling so guilty—he'd been the one to throw Harry off, when he knew both of them had more than a few beers in their system. And although he couldn't go back in time and change Harry's actions and words, he could try to make them talk again.

"Y'know," he started, and then took a pause to think about his next words. "When we talked at work, he told me that your kiss was just a kiss. So I asked if he had ever kissed Callie, or Lucie, or Eileen, right? And, like, he just went in shock, as if what I was saying was fucking absurd."

Maisy frowned. "I'm not following, Ni. I'm not drunk, but I'm definitely not sober enough to psychoanalyze stuff."

Niall chuckled, shaking his head and squeezing her shoulder. "My bad. What I mean is, he didn't think kissing you was absurd, but he thought kissing the other girls was, y'know? I guess he thought that it was so normal that it didn't mean anything."

"That doesn't make sense," Maisy laughed bitterly, shaking her head and taking a step back to look into Niall's eyes as she left her unfiltered thoughts out of her mind. "I don't want my kiss to feel normal, Ni, c'mon. If he didn't feel anything, if he didn't think about doing it again or, I don't know… If it didn't cross his mind even once, then why will I think he wants me? I hate that we're supposed to believe men feel something for us even when they don't say it, you know? Or that we're supposed to believe they love us when they say they hate us. If he can flirt with other girls and let them know he wants them, then why can't he do the same for me? I just—I can't be with someone who won't let me know they want me, okay? I can't. And I won't."

"You're right, yeah, sorry." Niall lowered his head and nodded, knowing she had a point. Maisy shouldn't wait around just because Harry wasn't ready to deal with his feelings, she had already talked to him about that and explained her point of view, and he understood where she was coming from. It wasn't Maisy who had to step up and do something about her feelings. Not anymore. Now Harry was the one who had to let her know how he felt. "'M sorry, Isy."

Maisy sighed, grabbed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I know. You're fine. Thanks for always listening."

"Anytime, love." He pulled her by the neck and kissed the side of her head, then let her go. "Look at that, now they walked away and we didn't even notice."

She looked around and chuckled, noticing her friends weren't near them anymore. She glanced back to their tables, then, where she found them dancing with the boys. Josh was there. Max was there. Franklin, Nick and Kevin were there. Ryan was there. And even Tommy had shown up again—attached to a girl Maisy had never seen before. Of course, since he stood next to her, Niall was missing. But besides him, the only one who wasn't around the table was… Harry.

And to be honest the thought shouldn't have crossed her mind. It shouldn't. And even when it already had, she shouldn't have looked around for him, because deep down she already knew where she would find him and what she would see, and she didn't want to go through that again.

It had been such a fun night, she'd felt so good again.

She didn't want to look for him.

And yet…

She did.

She let her eyes wander and stop right where he was, at the bar, wearing her favorite shirt.

Again, she should've looked away, but she didn't, because she wanted to know who he was talking to, who was standing in front of him while she only could see his back.

And if she had listened to all of those warnings voiced in her head, if she hadn't waited for him to move a little bit, and if she hadn't waited for the person in front of him to tilt their head to the side, she wouldn't have felt the air getting knocked out of her. Because she wouldn't have seen him there, talking again with that amazing girl from three weeks ago — the girl he was talking to when her own feelings ruined everything for him, and for them.

"C'mon… C'mon…" Maisy mumbled to herself. Her body shivered while she stared at her phone, watching as the Uber app tried to find her a driver, and she crossed one arm over her stomach.

She knew she should've worn a blazer instead of prioritizing not clashing her outfit. Or at least she should've been still inside, where it was warm and she could sit down — although that wasn't really an option, because it would've ruined her plans of sneaking out without Callie noticing.

She tapped her foot against the floor, glaring at her phone. It wasn't supposed to be taking this long, it wasn't supposed to be so hard to find a ride home.

Maybe she should just walk. She wasn't that far away from home…

No. Of course she shouldn't just walk. She wasn't stupid to walk by herself on a Saturday night, dressed like that, after having a few drinks.

Her phone buzzed, the app finally notifying she had a new driver. Leaning against the wall, Maisy sighed. Adam was only thirteen minutes away. Not as fast as she would've liked, but still better than nothing.

Taking in her surroundings, she blocked her phone and kept it tight between her fingers, then placed her arm on top of the other one. Hugging herself. Protecting herself from the coldness. And maybe even from the sadness.

The street was almost empty, only a couple of people standing on the sidewalk just like her, probably waiting to go home. And except for two or three cars rushing by here and there, there were no signs of anyone else driving around the city.

She looked down, and unlocked her phone.

Adam was currently twenty minutes away.

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," she muttered.

"Aha! There you are!"

Maisy moved her eyes up and to the side.

Niall beamed at her, one arm stretched out to keep the front door open.

"Max was just asking about you."

He looked inside the bar for a moment, then back at her, taking a step closer and letting his hand fall to his side. As he walked, though, the door remained open, until Harry walked through it and let it close behind him.

Maisy's lungs froze, and her heart thumped inside her chest.

"Are you leaving?" Niall asked.

Harry's eyes darted to her, and Maisy's eyes darted to Niall.

"Uh, yeah…" She nodded, blocking her phone and holding it tightly into a fist while she squeezed her crossed arms around her body. "I'm just waiting for my Uber."

"Huh." Niall flinched his head back, slightly wrinkling his brows. "Well, just so you know, Max is under the impression he is taking you home…"

Maisy sighed, and rolled her eyes. Unlike Callie, who'd been thrilled about Maisy going out with her boyfriend's best friend, and who thought Harry didn't deserve another single second of her time, Niall knew how guilty and conflicted she'd been feeling about going out with one friend just to get over another one. Even if it had been for only one date, and even if she wasn't planning on doing it again. And even if one friend was nothing like the other.

Because, yes, her friendship with Max was nothing compared to her friendship with Harry, but Maisy supposed Max would be what she considered just a friend to be, and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings like hers had been hurt.

Although, of course, Max didn't have actual feelings for her, he just fancied her — he fancied her a lot. So badly that he'd spent months waiting for the moment to ask her out. Something Harry had never, ever, cared to do.

Ugh.

"I know," she said, diverting her sight across the street before she gave in to the urge of looking at Harry. "I'm trying to leave before he finds me."

Niall chuckled, and Maisy bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile. It was shitty of her, she knew that, but at that moment she was too tired to care. She planned to text both him and Callie as soon as she got home. And she could've (and would've) done that by then already if the damn driver weren't taking so damn long.

"So," Niall said, "you're not going home with Max?"

Maisy shook her head.

"'Cause you don't want to go with him. Right?"

Pulling her eyebrows together, Maisy glanced at him. Was it really necessary for him to word it out like that? She was ready to call him out for asking such a question, when she caught him looking away from her. And then, out of instinct, she followed his line of vision. And before she could even notice and stop herself, she was looking at Harry as well.

Maisy's world stopped turning. All over again.

Different from them, Harry focused on the front door, moving his jaw and parting his lips as he chewed gum. Silent. Distracted. Hands hidden inside his pockets, shoulders slightly up. Unkempt curls pulled back on the top of his head, clearly getting stuck there after he'd ran his hand through them.

Maisy's belly fluttered. Everything about him was pretty, no wonder why he walked around so confident all the time. As if he owned the space.

She'd always found herself physically attracted to him, but since kissing him it seemed as if she couldn't hold herself anymore. And the fact that she knew so much about him only made it worse. Because there he was, wearing a shirt she loved so much that she'd borrowed it from him multiple times. And a shirt that, if things hadn't changed so much, and if their friendship hadn't been ruined by her stupid feelings, she knew she would've been wearing it right then and there—and then she wouldn't have been feeling so cold.

Damn.

What was he thinking? What was he looking at? Was he paying any attention to their conversation? Was he waiting for someone? Oh God. Was he waiting for… For that girl? Was she going to be forced to watch them leave together? Go home together? Oh no.

No, no, no.

Please, no.

Where the hell was Adam?

Maisy glanced at her phone just as it buzzed in her hand. She read the notification, dropping her shoulders and closing her eyes.

"C'mon," she murmured, taking her free hand up to her face and pinching her forehead. "Fuck."

She was so tired. All the fun she'd had with her friends came to an end the moment she saw Harry and that girl talking, and she didn't deserve to have to stand there and watch even more of that. Or to have to hide from her friends. Or to have to stand by herself on a cold night in the middle of the street. All she wanted was to go home, hide under the blankets, and cry.

"Isy, hey," Niall called, his voice much softer and closer than before. He stood next to her with worry in his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and letting go of whatever he was saying before. "What's wrong?"

Maisy shook her head, taking her hand away from her face and wiping a tear from under her eye. No more crying Maisy. No more crying.

"Nothing… Just…" She blinked, then stared at her phone. "My uber. He canceled."

"Ok…" Niall tilted his head, trying to get her attention. Or maybe trying to get a look at her face. Or maybe trying to read her emotions. Or maybe just trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Can't you just get another one?"

"Well," she muttered, peering at him through the corner of her eyes whilst sliding her thumb across the screen. "I'm not stupid, am I?"

Niall frowned. "No, I—"

"What do you think I've been trying to do for the past twenty minutes?"

"Sorry, I—"

"I can give you a ride," Harry said.

Both Maisy and Niall jolted, then turned their heads to look at him. Although he kept his distance, Harry had gotten noticeably closer as well, standing only a few inches behind his friend. Niall seemed to notice that, too, taking a step aside and dropping Maisy's shoulder as he turned to give him some space.

And then, as Harry fixed his forest-green eyes into hers, and as Maisy kept her head turned to the side and stared back at him, the entire world seemed to — once again — stop around her. There was nothing but empty and silent distance standing between them, and every nerve in her body seemed to tingle. Desperate to run towards him. Desperate to say yes and let him not only take her home but also make her a cup of tea before going to bed. Desperate to let him wrap his arms around her and fall asleep breathing into her neck as if that was something just friends normally did.

She squeezed her phone between her fingers, tightly, and made sure to hold as much air as possible in her lungs. Because she truly missed him. She missed being his friend, she missed talking to him, she missed answering his calls. She missed making him laugh, and she missed feeling silly next to him. She missed being able to be near him whenever she wanted to, and she missed hugging him just because she could.

But she also really wanted him. And although she had always wanted him, now it was definitely worse. Almost unbearable. Because now, as she looked at his pinkish and soft lips, she also missed feeling them against the curve of her neck. And as she admired his growing facial hair, she also missed feeling the scratchiness under the palm of her hands as she cradled his cheeks and kissed the hell out of him. And as her body quivered under the intensity of his green gaze, she missed the tingling between her legs caused by the strong grip of his manly hands.

Maisy hadn't been able to taste all of him, but she'd tasted enough to be scarred for the rest of her life. And it hurt to know he didn't want her back. It really did.

"Shit," Niall cursed, then coughed.

Maisy blinked, finally breaking away from the spell Harry had put her under and facing forward, where her friend was supposed to be. When she didn't find him, though, she straightened up and stepped away from the wall, scanning around the street.

"Where—"

"I forgot my jacket!" Niall shouted.

Following his voice, she got a glimpse of him behind Harry, by the front door, already taking a step into the club.

"Be right back guys!"

And just like that the door closed, and there was nobody else around.

Nobody but her.

And him.

Nobody but them.

Emptiness dropped in the pit of her stomach, and her chest tightened.

Shit.

She took a deep breath in, folding her arms and rubbing her forearm with her free hand. She didn't know where to look. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. Her heart was racing, and she could feel her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Was she supposed to just stand there?!

Peeking at him, she could only see his back. Harry stood ahead of her and to her side, facing the door where Niall had just walked through. Frozen. Hands still inside his pockets, but shoulders more relaxed than before.

Second went by as silence completely engulfed them. But then he chuckled, looking down and shaking his head while his shoulders moved up and down.

The sound hit Maisy's brain first, and then it bounced to her chest, suddenly reminding her to breathe again. Her lips curved up, and she licked them before swallowing her feelings down her throat. That was not the time, nor place, to find joy in the sound of his laughter.

Harry turned around, still laughing.

"What?" she asked — although she wasn't expecting to.

"It's just…" He covered his face with one hand, then slid it up his forehead and ran his fingers through his curls. Calming himself down. "Niall."

"Oh…" She furrowed her brows. "Okay?"

"I mean," he added, dropping his hand back down and looking at her. Beaming. Glowing. "He's so fucking stupid. I just remembered he didn't even bring a jacket."

Maisy widened her eyes, then she nodded. "Ohhh…"

Although she didn't want to, she couldn't help but laugh, too. Maybe not out of happiness, but because Niall could be really silly when he wanted to be. And maybe because it was nice that Harry had felt comfortable enough to share that with her. Maybe because finally, after weeks, they were finally sharing a nice moment together.

Although, of course, that didn't erase the fact that things weren't okay between them.

She faced forward, across the street and away from him, shaking her head while her entire body shivered.

"How subtle," she added, placing her folded arms over her stomach and smashing her phone into her side. She still hadn't tried to find another driver, and although she knew she should've, she didn't want to take the risk of having to walk away from him. Not so soon. Not right then.

"Right?"

The smile was obvious in his voice, and Maisy was just so hyper-aware of his every moment. Of every detail. Absorbing way more than she'd ever absorbed before. Feeling him way more than she'd ever felt him before.

And Harry didn't make it easy, because he didn't stop moving. He shuffled on his feet, stepping closer while shoving both hands back into his pockets. He breathed in, then heavily breathed out, taking his time to walk until he was in front of her and she didn't have a choice but to look at him.

He buried his hypnotizing eyes into hers, and Maisy curled her toes inside her boots — desperate to stay grounded and hold her balance.

Harry didn't look happy, he didn't look mad, and he didn't look sad.

He looked honest, he looked available, and he looked familiar.

He looked like her best friend.

And it hurt, because there was nothing Maisy wanted more than to go back to what they were before, but as they both stood like that for a moment — silently watching each other, and silently waiting for each other — she realized that it was something she would never get to have again.

How could she? If she wasn't able to be around him without hiding her feelings anymore? If she wouldn't be able to see him dating someone — falling in love with someone — without feeling betrayed and heartbroken? Maybe she'd misinterpreted his actions before, but now that she knew he didn't feel the same way, it wouldn't be fair to hold it against him. She needed to grow out of her feelings, and in order to do so things needed to change. She wouldn't be able to keep interacting with him like she did before.

"I meant it, you know?" he said, pulling her out of her mind. "About giving you a ride home."

Maisy blinked.

"Thank you," she murmured, shuffling on her feet and shrugging. "I'm just… I don't know if that's a good idea."

Harry nodded. He looked down and between their feet, then back into her eyes.

"Just so you know," he said, leaving all traces of playfulness behind, "I'm not leaving with her."

Maisy pulled her eyebrows together, and it took her another pause until she could open her mouth and ask, "W—what?"

"I know you saw me talking to that girl, the one from that night," he explained, taking a short step towards her, "but nothing happened between me and her. And nothing was going to. I swear."

Maisy blinked.

"Oh, okay."

There was a pause.

A pause in which, against her better judgment, she didn't avoid the intensity of his eyes. And a pause in which, as seconds went by, she was easily consumed by the calmness, the confidence, and the assurance he exuded.

Still, it was hard to figure out what was happening, or where he was trying to get to. She tried to read his expression, tried to understand his emotions, tried to get a sense of his thoughts. But she couldn't. So she asked, "Why?"

Harry slid his tongue between his lips, then tilted his head. "Why?"

"Yeah…" Maisy shrugged. "I mean, you were really into her, so… Why?"

He curled his mouth into a timid smile, breathing out his answer as if he couldn't believe he had to say that out loud, "Isy… I was an asshole and hurt your feelings because I wasn't aware of things, but I would never do that knowing—"

"Oh my—"

"—what I know now and—"

"Stop." She raised her hand, the one still gripping that stupid phone, and Harry closed his mouth. "You don't—" She took a deep breath, putting her thoughts in order. "You don't need to stop yourself just because I have feelings for you."

"No, I know. I—"

"Harry, look," she said, putting her hand down and taking a step back from him. "I never meant for you not to go out with her, ok? Or anyone else, for that matter… I can't stop you from fancying people... So if you want to be with her, I mean, you don't need to stop yourself just… Just because you feel sorry for me, okay?"

He closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath, then dropped his head back and looked at the sky for a moment. He didn't have to say anything for her to know that he was thinking about her words, and that he was taking them in before saying something back to her.

Maybe that's why Maisy didn't rush him. And why she distracted herself by watching the way his throat flexed when he swallowed, and the way he softly moved his jaw as he chewed his gum. His facial hair was always kind of longer on his neck, and also kind of messier — something she tended to forget, because it wasn't really noticeable unless he threw his head back. Just like then.

"I know that," he said, once again pulling her out of her mind. "Sorry."

She blinked, watching with blurry eyes as he rolled his shoulders and fixed his eyes back on hers.

"That came out wrong and it wasn't actually answering your question. I didn't walk away from her because I felt sorry for you. I walked away from her because I didn't want to stay there, because I wasn't—I mean, because I'm not interested."

"Oh…" Maisy barely whispered, his words echoing inside her. Then what… What was he doing? What was she supposed to do with that information? What difference did it make? She breathed out through her nose and licked her lips, squishing her eyebrows together and flinching her head back slightly. "Then why… Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know. I guess…" he said into her eyes, pausing to close his mouth and chew his gum as he took a tiny step closer to her. "I guess I just want to make sure you don't leave tonight thinking something happened between me and her. Because it didn't, and it won't. Not her, not anyone else."

Speechless and breathless, Maisy remained lost inside his eyes. It was hard to make sense of what he was saying, and it was even harder to understand if he meant something else between the lines. Was he making sure she wouldn't cry when she got home? Was he simply protecting a friend? Or was he hoping for something more?

She shook her head and took a step back. See? She couldn't do that. She couldn't be his friend when she would be constantly hoping for something more to be in between the lines. That wasn't healthy. And it wasn't fair. "I— I can't… I—"

"Wait, no!" He took a step forward and raised one arm, then immediately dropped it back to his side. Closing his hand into a fist and opening it up again, he softened the tone of his voice and pleaded, "I'm sorry. I don't… I don't know what to do or… Or what to say to make things right. I don't want to overstep, but I also don't want you to think I don't care about losing you, because I do. I care so much, Isy… And it's been killing me."

"I hate this," she said, dropping her chin down and hiding her face behind her hands. Everything hurt — her stomach hurt, her chest hurt, her head hurt. "I didn't… I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't want this to happen."

And then, she cried.

"It wasn't… It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Gimme that," he murmured, closing off the distance and taking her phone away from her hand—and from her face. Maisy sobbed, and tears fell down, but she also chuckled, because even amidst everything, Harry was still the same friend who would point out how it wasn't his fault that her bags were too small to carry her things, and yet would always end up keeping whatever she needed safe into his pockets anyway.

"I know, ok? I know," he added, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her to fully cry into his chest. "And I'm sorry, ok?" He placed his cheek on the side of her head, speaking into her ear. "I really am. I'm the one who messed everything up and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you cry. And I'm sorry for all the times I made you feel less important than you actually are."

Warmth filled up her body, and she sobbed again, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter while pressing her forehead against her hands, and her hands against his chest.

"There are so many things I should've done differently when it comes to us… I know that. And I'm sorry, ok? I am. I don't want to lose you, Isy. I really want to fix this. Please let me try to fix it."

Maisy breathed out through her nose and nodded, letting her hands fall from her face and throwing her arms around his waist.

"Jesus fucking Christ thanks God," Harry instantly breathed out, smashing her even tighter into him and pushing them both towards the wall.

She blinked her eyes open and chuckled, letting more tears fall down and sniffing while turning her head to the side and pressing her ear against his chest. They both shuffled and stumbled, trying to keep up with their clumsy tiny steps until her back hit the wall. Harry stopped and sighed, and Maisy felt every bit of the relief rushing through him — the way he heavily moved his chest up and down, the way he shivered, the way he squeezed her. It was contagious, and it had her sighing as well. Loosening up all the tension. Melting into him.

"I missed you," he whispered, taking one hand to her head and threading his fingers through her hair.

He stroked her scalp — just like she loved — and Maisy bit her lip, closing her eyes while getting drunk on his cologne. That was exactly where she wanted to be. How she wanted to be. With his heart thumping loudly into her ear, his warmth enveloping her body, his masculine and strong scent filling her lungs.

Sniffing again, she took one hand up to her face and wiped under her nose, exhaling a groan through her mouth. "Ugh… I'm a mess."

"I don't care."

Maisy rolled her eyes, rubbing her cheeks as best as she could while still caged inside his arms. "But I do."

"Shhhh…" He swagged them gently, then grabbed her wrist and took it back around his waist. "Got a lot of fixing to do, I know. But I missed this, so let me enjoy it."

She sighed, holding her own forearms as she rested her arms on his lower back. No matter how hard she tried to be mad at him, she didn't feel like she actually could. Harry had overreacted and hurt her feelings, sure, but it had been the first and only slip in a friendship that had already lasted five years. He was a great guy, and she knew that — of course Maisy knew that. And maybe that is why the words ended up rolling out of her mouth so naturally when she said, "I missed this, too."

"Yeah?" He scratched the back of her head with his short nails, then kissed her hair. "Do you think…" — another kiss, and another one— "Do you think you'll be able to forgive me?"

Hadn't she already?

"I don't…" She cleared her throat, getting rid of the scratchiness from her previous crying. Staring ahead to the empty street, she nuzzled against his chest, then started again. "I don't think it's about forgiveness… I think… I think I just need time."

"Right," Harry murmured, and a moment of silence lingered between them. "Time for what, exactly?"

"It's just… You already know how I feel about you, and I don't think I can be your friend right now."

"Why not?"

"Harry." She rolled her eyes and pulled away, tilting her chin up to look at him while he followed her lead and angled his head down to look at her. He was close — really close — and she had to withdraw her arms from his back to be able to create some more distance between them.

Harry moved, too, letting her go and taking half a step back.

And Maisy hated it.

She wanted to be glued to him all over again.

"Don't make this even harder than it needs to be," she added.

"I'm sorry, I'm not… I'm not trying to make this harder. I just want to understand, that's all."

"Is it really that hard to understand that I can't be your friend when I have feelings for you?"

Harry frowned. "To be honest, yes. Why can't we be friends?"

"Oh my God," she laughed, but mostly because she couldn't believe how dense he was. If what he needed was for her to spell it out to him, then she would, but only because she couldn't handle all the weirdness and the running around circles anymore. "Harry, you're not just a friend to me, ok? And when I say that I have feelings for you, that means that I want you, ok? I want you so much Harry, and I can't stop thinking about it. It's like… It's like I can't pretend that I don't anymore because that's all I think about. All the time. Every time I look at you I can't stop thinking about how much I want to be with you, and every time I see you with a girl I can't stop thinking about how much I wish that was me. And maybe it was fine before, but we kissed and now… Now I just… I just can't, ok? That's why I need some time. Because I can't pretend anymore and I can't—"

"Then don't." He stepped closer again, instantly placing his palms on her cheeks and cradling her face.

Staring into her eyes, Harry was so filled with emotions and so determined to hold her close that her body quivered. And her belly fluttered. And her heart sped up.

Maisy blinked. "What?"

"Don't pretend you don't." he said, not even once faltering his gaze away from hers. "Let me know how much you want me. I wanna know, ok? I want to know how I make you feel. And I want to keep making you feel this way for me. Or more, or better, I don't know. I just… I want all of this with you. I want you, ok?"

With widened eyes, Maisy breathed in and out through her nose. Quickly. Shortly. Desperately. Making her chest go up and down erratically.

"I…"

No more words came out of her brain, and Maisy froze like that. Blinking at him with parted lips and out of breath.

Harry's eyes flicked to her mouth, then traveled back to her eyes. With featherly touches, he brushed his thumbs up and down her cheeks, then bowed closer.

"So don't stay away," he murmured, glancing at her lips once more before closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. "Don't take some time. And don't stop thinking about me. Yeah? I didn't react properly the first time, but I love the fact that you have feelings for me. Don't get rid of them, please."

She grabbed his wrists, keeping his touch in place while closing her eyes, too. "Please don't… Don't say those things if you don't mean them."

He shook his head, and his nose nudged hers.

"You know I wouldn't," he said, breathing warmly into her face. "I would never—I want you, Isy. I want you and I want you way more than just a friend."

And just like that first time, back at her place, Maisy knew it was about to happen. It was written all over him, and it burned inside her. It made her tremble—out of excitement, out of nervousness, out of fear, and out of anticipation.

So she squeezed his wrists, and fluttered her eyes open.

"Let's…" She swallowed, aware of the closeness between them. "Let's get out of here."

Still leaning into her forehead with his eyes open, Harry nodded. He took another moment to breathe in deeply, then opened his eyes, too.

"Ok," he said, drawing sweet circles around her cheekbones before dropping his hands off her face. He met her palms in the process, though, and they automatically held each other, intertwining their fingers together while stepping away from the wall. "C'mon, then."

"Niall's going home with Eileen and Josh," Harry said, putting his phone back into his pocket. He threw his arm over Maisy's shoulder and looked side to side, then pulled her closer and guided her to cross the street along with him. "So we're good to go."

Maisy bit her lip and nodded, placing one arm around his waist while holding his hand on her shoulder with the other one.

Harry had told her he'd parked around the corner and further down the street, and although he'd already driven Maisy home many-multiple-hundred-thousands of times, and for many-multiple-hundred-thousands reasons, it was safe to say she'd never felt that much anticipation about being alone inside his car with him.

"By the way," he said, leaning to kiss the top of her head and speaking into her hair, "remind me to get him a bottle of something, yeah? Feel like I owe him big time."

She smiled, turning her head to nuzzle into their touching shoulders as Harry took his free hand to the back of her head and stroked her gently. He chuckled and kissed her hair one more time, then faced forward when she did, and dropped his hand to meet her one on his waist. After that, he didn't say anything, neither pressured her to say something back to him, walking in silence as they both hurried to reach their destination.

It was weird, the apparent sudden need they had to be close to each other. To touch each other. Hands grabbing hands, arms giving hugs, sides touching sides. As if they needed reassurance of each other's presence. Or as if they wanted to make sure they wouldn't vanish.

It'd started as soon as they'd walked away from the club, when they failed so badly at keeping any distance that they kept constantly stumbling into each other's feet. They eventually found a rhythm and a way to hold each other that suited both of them, but that need to stay close (close, close, close) didn't change as seconds—and then minutes—went by. It didn't change when Harry walked to a trash can to spit his gum, and even less when he took his shirt off and placed it over her cold shoulders. It also didn't change when Harry slowed down to get the keys from his pocket, nor when he opened the door of the passenger side for her to get inside.

"So…" he said, placing his hands on her hips and guiding her to stand between him and the opened door, "Where am I taking you now?"

She placed her hands on his chest, now covered only by his white t-shirt, and tilted her head to look up at him. Harry wanted her. He'd said so, and she didn't think he would ever lie to her—not about something like that, at least. And yet, her mind couldn't stop wondering. So instead of guessing the answer, she decided to openly ask him.

"Do you still mean the things you said?"

Harry nodded. "Every single word."

"About everything? I mean, do you really want me?"

Curling his mouth into a smile, he sneaked his hands under her shirt—his shirt—and slid his arms around her waist, resting them on her lower back and right above the curve of her bum.

"I really, really want you, Isy," he said, straight into her eyes.

"Why? What changed?"

"Nothing changed," he eagerly answered, and then he slowed down a bit. "I think… I just… I don't know."

He dipped his chin down and drew his sight off from her eyes, then shuffled slightly on his feet. "I think I just wasn't able to put two and two together by myself… That's all."

He shrugged, and Maisy bit the insides of her bottom lip.

In five years, she had never pictured a less confident side of him. Harry was the kind of guy that always managed to be proud of himself, and that always found a positive outcome in every situation. All the time. Even in his most embarrassing moments. So it was honestly weird to see him act like that.

At the same time, the prospect of having new things to learn about him felt really nice. And exciting. Something she wouldn't be able to do if she didn't lay all of her cards on the table. Right there and then.

"That day…" she said, pausing to lick her lips and breathe in. Gathering the strength to point out the thing that had hurt her the most. "Harry, that day you really made me feel like I was getting in your way of—"

"Ugh. I know—"

"—being with that girl and—"

"—I know. I'm sorry, 'm sorry."

He grunted and cursed, pulling her closer and hiding on the curve of her neck. And Maisy let him, closing her mouth and listening to whatever he had to say. Just like she had done that other night.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I don't… I don't have any excuses for the way I reacted. I know that. I—Fuck." Pulling away to look into her eyes again, he took one hand off from her back and placed it on her cheek, tenderly but firmly holding her as he kept talking. "It caught me off guard and I… I fucked up, I know. But I would choose you over absolutely anyone and everyone, Isy. Anytime. No doubts."

His words hit deeply inside her, and a warm glow flowed all over her. A joyful glow. As if her body had burst with bright, sparkling, and multicolored bubbles.

So she bit her lip, and twisted the neckline of his t-shirt around her fingers.

It was hard to know what was the right thing to do. Rationally, her mind told her to not make it so easy for him. To give it some time, and see if he was actually telling the truth. If he actually meant it.

On the other hand, despite everything, her heart knew what it wanted. She believed his words, she believed he wouldn't intentionally hurt her, and she believed people deserved the benefit of the doubt. More than anything, she also wanted to believe that if she ever made a mistake, the people that she cared about would give her a second chance. So why couldn't she do the same?

"I know," she said, so softly she wasn't even sure he would be able to hear her. But then Harry brushed his thumb on her cheekbone, acknowledging her words, and she immediately kept going. "And I believe you're sorry. I do. I just… I think I'm scared, or… I don't know. I convinced myself you didn't want to be with me in that way, so… I don't know…" She shook her head. "I don't know."

He nodded, drawing gentle circles on her cheek. "Niall said… He said something about how you don't think I'm attracted to you, is that true?"

Maisy widened her eyes. "Oh my God! Niall told you that?"

"I mean—"

"What else did he say?!"

"Nothing! He just—"

"I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

Harry pursed his lips, and then laughed.

"It's not funny!"

She pinched the exposed skin on his chest, and Harry jolted.

"Ouch!" He looked back at her with both a frown and a smile on his face. "What was that for?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe for yelling at me for talking to Niall instead of talking to you? And then you talking to Niall instead of talking to me?"

"Right… Ok, yes. I can see you have a point there, but in my defense—"

"There's no defense!" She pinched him (again), and Harry jolted (again). He took the hand on her face to rub the new stinging inch of skin on his chest, smiling while she kept lashing out at him. "Can't believe you two, honestly! Dickheads! Gossiping like two little—"

"Ok," he said, taking his index finger to her mouth and pressing it into her lips. "Listen to me, woman."

Maisy narrowed her eyes at him, but she suddenly didn't have anything else to say, so she exhaled heavily through her nose and consented to his demand (albeit silently and annoyingly).

"Good." Staring into her eyes, he slid the pad of his finger side to side, slightly brushing it to her parted lips. "Niall was just calling me out for not letting you know how I feel, ok? That's all."

Harry glanced at her mouth, then switched his index finger with his thumb. The place he both touched and stared at seemed to buzz, and heat bloomed through her cheeks. From then on, no matter how much she tried to keep paying attention to his explanation, she simply couldn't put the information together anymore.

"Told me you didn't think I fancy you," he added, just as entranced with the movement of his thumb as she felt, "and that you couldn't read my mind, so if I wanted things to change…"

He put more pressure to his finger and pushed his way between her lips, bumping into her teeth. "I had to show you."

Intoxicated and absorbed, Maisy bit into his short nail, holding him there.

Harry smirked, and met her eyes once again. "Or something like that…"

It was hard to tell what was going through Maisy's mind, then. Mostly because she couldn't care less about her rational thoughts anymore. She didn't want to think anymore. She didn't want to know about Niall's suggestions—or whatever he said—and she didn't want to hear Harry's apologies anymore. All she wanted was to feel, so that's exactly what she did.

Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she leaned in, then slithered her teeth through his nail, stopping where the skin of his thumb began. His fingertip rested on the tip of her tongue, and her belly quivered and swirled in expectation of his reaction.

To her delight, Harry sank his shoulders and gawked at her. Some new, dazzling determination took over him, and even his eyes seemed to darken as he shifted his arm around her lower back and pulled her closer. Gripping at her side with one hand, he moved his other one and got deeper into her mouth, pressing his thumb in, in, in, until her teeth clamped around his first knuckle.

Maisy molded her lips around his shortest and chubbiest digit, keeping it locked between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She tasted him softly, running slow circles with her tongue while still watching him. Harry faintly smirked, so much that it was almost undetectable, and she took that as a challenge. Because she wanted more. She wanted more reactions, and she wanted more actions. So she placed both of her hands around his wrist and closed her eyes, then sucked his finger in.

Harry stiffened at first, and then he cursed, breathing out heavily through his mouth while taking a tiny step forward and spreading his other four fingers open on her face.

"Damn, Isy…" he murmured.

The admiration, pride, and approval in his voice cracked something inside her, and a very familiar feeling pulsed through her veins. It made her go all slippery and quivery. And it brought wet heat between her legs.

Bold and fearless, Maisy swirled her tongue and hummed. Making it dirtier than it needed to be. Making it louder. Making it wetter.

And he didn't seem to mind it. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it just as much and encouraged her to go even further, moving his thumb side to side while digging his other four fingers into the skin of her cheek and neck.

It was so good. So unexpected. And so desperate.

To put so much energy into something like sucking a finger. To feel herself going mindless as she tightened his wrist between her hands and brought him closer, then sucked him deeper. Breathing in and out through her nose, then completely forgetting about their surroundings and pushing her head down to fit his whole finger inside. And losing herself as she sucked. And sucked. All over again.

"Jesus Christ," Harry murmured, backing her into the back door of his car, tilting her head up and pulling his thumb off from her mouth. "That's enough."

Everything happened so fast, that before she could even process the information or blink her eyes open, Harry had already pressed his lips to hers in a desperate move.

They first met awkwardly and clumsily, hitting each other's cheeks and chins. But then Harry cradled her jaw and kept her in place, taking the lead and capturing her lips for a much hungrier and experienced kiss.

A soft tingle ran between her legs, and Maisy moaned softly, so softly she barely even noticed it. She dragged her hands up to his shoulders, then to his neck, and to the back of his head. Harry hummed, and she threaded her fingers between his curls and tugged, standing on her tiptoes and parting her lips to take things further. Searching for his tongue while he searched for hers. Tasting each other with the same devotion and effort she had just tasted his thumb. Moving in perfect sync, and making sure to taste every corner and every inch.

Harry dropped his hand from her face to her bum, giving it a rough and forceful squeeze and sucking all the air around them through his nose.

Maisy hummed, holding onto his hair tightly as she rolled her hips forward. Harry smirked into the kiss, then slid his other arm down, filling both of his hands with her ass. He squeezed her again, this time digging his nails into both of her cheeks and pulling her forward while he also stepped closer, and finally fully pressing their hips together.

His growing bulge nudged between her legs, and a gasped moan came out of her throat.

"Fuck," he breathed out, breaking the kiss to roll his hips on hers.

"Oh God…" she sighed, taking the opportunity to drag her wet lips to his jaw. That was so embarrassing. Maisy had to stop. She really had to stop. She needed to stop. They both needed to stop. And yet she couldn't. She didn't want to. Because Harry was getting hard while making out with her. She could feel him pressed against her hips and she didn't want to lose the feeling. She didn't want to step away. So she didn't. She moved her mouth thoughtlessly, instead, savoring as much as she could of him. Feeling his stubble under her tongue, and his scent under her nose.

"Fuck," he murmured, timidly rubbing himself up and down her front. "That's…" He swallowed. "Feels good, baby."

Maisy hummed, mapping kisses from his jaw, to his ear. She tangled her fingers around his curls, holding her weight while speaking softly and as close to him as she could. "Take me home, Haz."

"Mhmm…" Harry nodded, his hair brushing her temple.

She moved back towards his cheek, leaving a wet trail behind while making his mouth her final destination.

"Please?" she asked, then kissed him shortly.

"Sure." He nodded again, leaning in— "Anything you want." —and kissing her again.

Maisy smiled. The way he seemed enraptured by her was cute and sweet, but also extremely arousing. She could only imagine the things they would do under the influence of that dynamic, and she couldn't wait to find out. But the only way she would be able to do all the things she wanted to do was if they weren't standing in the middle of the street, only two blocks and a half away from their friends. So she sucked his bottom lip and pulled away, letting it slide softly between her teeth while stroking his scalp.

"Now," she whispered, watching him stand there, at her mercy, with closed eyes and parted mouth. "Take me home, Harry, please."

He opened his eyes.

"Wha—" He licked his lips, and shook his head. "I mean, yes." Out of breath, he nodded once, and then twice, and then thrice. "Yeah. Ok. Home. Yes."

Maisy giggled. Still caressing the back of his head, she flinched her chin back and pulled away slightly, only to be able to watch him better. "You okay?"

"Dunno. Think 'm high right now."

She frowned, holding herself from laughing any louder than she should. "High?!"

"Mhm. Pretty sure I got high from your kisses."

"Oh my God." Maisy snorted. She placed her hands on his shoulders and shoved him off, but his hands on her ass didn't allow her to put any actual distance between them.

"Think I developed an addiction—"

"Shut up."

"—and your mouth is my drug—"

" — Harry! — "

" — I need more — "

" — You're ridiculous—"

" — Gimme more — "

He kissed her again, and although Maisy couldn't stop laughing at how lame and silly he was, she still kissed him back. He smirked, seemingly proud of her reaction, then moved his large hand to her face and cradled her cheek, leading the way into a much slower and tender pace. His mouth was suddenly gentle, moving carefully while discovering a new side of their relationship. Not a desperate and hungry version, like it'd been up until then, but a smooth and thoughtful one. Made of sweet and calm kisses. Of gentle pecks, and timid tugs. Of wet lips, and honest affection.

Eventually, their eagerness toned down, dissolving into a different kind of longing for each other. Less desperate on one hand, but much more intense on the other.

Harry sighed, then broke off the kiss.

"Let's go," — he pecked her lips one — "then." — two — "Let's go home." — three — "Mine," — four times — "Or yours?"

One last kiss, lingering longer than the others, and Maisy finally blinked her eyes open. Harry's hand was warm on her cheek, and she felt herself needily nuzzling against it. She took a minute to catch her breath, and also to adjust to the dim lights, taking the opportunity to meet his touch with her own hand and turning her face just enough to press a kiss to his palm. Then, she whispered, "Yours… Take me back to yours."

He leaned in to kiss her temple, then brushed his lips on her skin as he spoke. "Back to mine it is, then."

— — — — —

In five years, Harry had already driven Maisy home, to the grocery store, to parties, from parties, to work, from work, to the hospital, to Niall's, and even back to her parents house.

In the process, Maisy had watched him a lot. She had watched him enough to memorize the way he would spread his legs and switch his foot between pedals, the way he would relax into the car seat and blindly shift gears, or the way he would place his elbow by the window and hold the steering wheel with one hand. More than not, she'd admired him secretly, too pent-up to say anything, and too afraid to let him show how much he affected her. Only a few times she had been brave enough to praise him out loud, although usually hiding behind some joke about how much he tried to look cool while driving, and never admitting how deeply attracted to him she actually felt.

That day though, as he drove them back to his apartment, whilst everything seemed to be still the same between them, everything seemed to be just as different and new. Because now, while she watched him turn the steering wheel, she also couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened in the middle of the street. And now, as she watched him flex his arms and shift gears, she also couldn't stop thinking about the feeling that kept dripping out between her legs.

"You're staring," Harry said, stopping at the traffic light. He turned his head to the side and smiled, sliding his now free hand against hers and intertwining their fingers once again.

Biting her lip, Maisy tried her best not to beam at him. It was useless, though, and her mouth ended up curling into the biggest and most genuine grin.

"I am," she laughed, then shrugged. "You look hot when you drive."

Harry widened his eyes, but there was a twinkle behind his gaze that made her feel comfortable about his reaction. As if the shock of her words did nothing but please him.

"Hot?" He squeezed her palm. "You think?"

Maisy nodded.

"I do, yeah… It's just… Hard to look away."

"Hmm…" Slowly, he let go of her hand, then placed his palm on her thigh, spreading his fingers open and digging them slightly into her flesh. "Keep looking, then."

Heat spread under her skin, and goosebumps rose all over. Harry's hand was large and heavy, and it covered so much of her leg that it was hard not to pay attention to it, or to ignore how close it was to a place she didn't think he would ever actually be. And yet a place that he had teased just minutes earlier. A place that he had rolled and pressed himself against. A place that he had fully woken up that night.

And judging by the way he grasped her in that exact moment, and by the way he had touched her earlier—so thirsty to squeeze and press her closer—Maisy knew he would be good at… Everything. She knew he would be the one to match the expectations no other guy had been able to match up until then. And she knew that he would be the one to set her body on a whole new level of fire. Not because other guys hadn't been good—after all she'd had some pretty great sexual experiences in her life—but because he was different to her. They felt different.

And she wanted to get a taste of that. She wanted to have him. She wanted him to touch her. And she wanted it all right now.

"Ugh." Maisy shuffled on the passenger seat and looked away from him, watching the empty street and covering the back of his hand with her palm. "Why is your place so far away?"

Harry smirked, and although she couldn't see him, she could feel the burning of his eyes all over her chest.

"It's not, actually," he said, so low and so husky that it felt almost calculated. As if he knew the effect it would have on her. "I think you're just eager to get there."

He squeezed her thigh, getting his fingertips just a little bit deeper into her, and Maisy faced him again.

If he wanted to play that game, then she would play it just as well.

Staring into his eyes, she scooched down a little, then dragged his hand along with hers. Sliding it just an inch up through her thigh. "I think I am, yes."

His gaze faltered for a moment, dropping down to where she was guiding their touch. Maisy bit her lip, enjoying his attentiveness, and kept moving their hands, stopping only when his pinky finger reached the crease between her thigh and her pelvis. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed her body, pinching her flesh with his fingers.

Maisy sighed, hypnotized on how pretty and hot and cute and manly he looked. All at the same time.

"Aren't you?" she asked, making sure her voice acted as a mirror of her current feelings, and sharing with him the sensual and confident side of her. One she had never been able to show him before, but was dying to.

Harry licked his lips and exhaled through his nose, then looked back at her face. He blinked a couple of times, then asked, "Hm? Am I what?"

Holding back a smile, she slid her fingers up his wrist, freeing his hand from her touch at the same time she brought her other hand around and placed it on her other inner thigh.

"Eager," she murmured. She squeezed her own leg, just like he'd done it before, and made her way up to the place her body most wanted him to be. "To get home… And touch me."

"Jesus Christ." Harry looked between her legs and swallowed, sinking his nails so deeply into her flesh that Maisy couldn't help but hiss at the pain.

Moving her palm from her inner thigh to the back of his hand, she finally directed him to her burning and aching center. She circled her other fingers around his forearm, holding tightly onto him, and rolled her hips timidly, subtly. Almost as if she didn't want him to see it—but also making sure he would not only see it, but that he would also feel it.

"I want you to touch me," she murmured, rolling her hips for a second time.

He dug the heel of his palm between her legs, then pressed his fingertips onto her center. "I can see that."

"You don't want to?"

Harry glared at her. Something seemed to have snapped inside him, and his voice got darker when he asked, "What do you think?"

Maisy shrugged, trying hard to create complete, full, coherent sentences while Harry's hand was finally there. "I hope you do. And that I'm not embarrassing myself."

He stroked his fingers through her wetness, curling his fingers and meeting his own palm as he grabbed between her legs—so harshly and so firmly that Maisy closed her eyes and squirmed on the passenger seat. She gasped quietly, leaning into his arm and pressing her forehead near his shoulder. Fully letting him take over the situation.

"I like this side of you." He loosened up his fingers, then moved them up and down, over and over again, spreading her wetness as best as he could despite the layers of clothes that covered her. "Almost made me lose my game over there. But look at you now… Did you always feel like this?"

"Oh God," she mouthed onto his bicep. The fabric of her pants, plus her thong, didn't allow her to feel him properly, but she felt enough to quiver from head to toe, and enough to make her want more.

She spread her legs wider, and Harry increased the pressure and speed of his stroke, moving his fingers faster and more forcefully.

"Tell me, did you always feel like this when I drove you places?" he insisted. "Did I always make you this wet?"

Maisy nodded, and grunted.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know it's—It's kinda inappropriate, isn't it? I—Sorry—"

"Shh,shhh… It's not." Harry rubbed her covered entrance in circles. Quick circles, experienced circles, making her get wetter and wetter. "Wish I knew sooner, that's all."

He focused on performing his task with only one finger, then, pressing it between her lips and then rubbing circles in search for that spot that would drive her insane. As soon as he found it, Maisy jolted and moaned, unable to contain herself anymore.

Still holding onto his arm, she recovered the strength on her other hand, covering his knuckles and fingers and guiding his touch once again. She helped him so he could touch her like she wanted him to, so he could keep pressing and stroking her exactly where she needed him to, and before she could notice it, she was fully rolling her hips on their connected hands. Searching for more friction. Desperate for relief.

Harry groaned, and she arched her back. He pressed faster, and faster. And she was there. Almost there. So, so, so almost there.

She just needed some more rolling, just like that, some more gasping, oh God, yes, and then—

And then someone honked behind them.

They both jumped. Maisy pressed her legs together and covered her center with one hand, while Harry straightened up and stretched his arm across her chest—as if that would hide her the flush from her cheeks, or the desperation from her breath, or the lust from her eyes.

The car behind them honked again. And again.

"Wha—"

"Green," she breathed out, pointing to the traffic light while her chest moved up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

And the car behind them honked, again.

"Shit," Harry mumbled, letting go of Maisy to shift gears and press the clutch pedal, then easily letting it go again. "Sorry… Sorry."

Still out of breath, she kept her legs pressed together and nodded. "Yeah, I—Yeah…"

He sped up before pressing the clutch pedal and shifting gears again, driving as fast as he could through the city.

Maisy clenched her thighs, then between her legs, and shuffled on her seat.

Peeking at her, Harry sighed.

"Shit. I'm sorry."

Maisy nodded again. How long did they just spend there? Stupidly parked at a traffic light? And how many green lights did they ignore?

"You ok?" he asked, eyes on the road and both hands on the steering wheel.

She shifted and rearranged herself, feeling the burning desire between her legs turn into sticky coldness.

"Yeah… I just…" Maisy said, watching the neighborhood through the window and chuckling lightly. "I forgot we were there."

"I know, me too," Harry laughed. "Shit. Completely lost track of time, too."

"Mhm."

She laughed.

And then they both laughed.

Peeking at her again, Harry grabbed her hand one more time, pulling it from her lap and taking it to his mouth.

"Don't worry, by the way." He kissed the back of her hand, then took their connected hands to shift gears. "I'll take care of you as soon as we get home."

She smiled, then intertwined her fingers with his. "Mhm. You better."

"Ok," Harry said, turning the steering wheel and straightening out the tires. He put the car into neutral and lifted the handbrake, then took his feet off the pedals and twisted the ignition key. The engine stopped working, but silence didn't have enough time to settle before he tapped her leg twice and spoke again, "Get out."

He stepped out of the car, and Maisy blinked. Smiling to herself, she shook her head and reached to open her door, but Harry was already there, doing the job for her and offering his hand for her to hold.

She narrowed her eyes, and looked up at him.

"C'mon," he said, wiggling his fingers. "Out."

She opened her mouth to call him out for his demanding tone, but ended up snorting and chuckling, instead.

"Well, look who's eager now," she muttered, taking his offer and grabbing his hand, then getting out and stepping aside.

The last five minutes of the drive to his place had been completely silent, and although his promise of taking care of her as soon as they got home lingered between them, all the events of that day had finally started catching up with her brain while Harry's thumb soothed the back of her hand and she watched the streets go by through the window. Tiredness and sleepiness got a hold of her muscles, and her thoughts worked at a much slower pace than before. So whilst she still found herself desperate to get to his apartment, she also wouldn't have complained about taking a short nap first.

"To be fair," he said, "been eager since I first saw you tonight."

He slammed the door shut, and its bang echoed around the parking lot. Maisy looked around, fixing her outfit while Harry moved to stand in front of her. He seemed to be the only neighbor who hadn't been in the building that night, all the other spots already occupied by different types of cars. Other than that, everything was quiet, as if they were the only two people awake in the entire town.

"What happened to building maintenance?" she murmured.

Harry tilted his head and smiled, placing his hands on her hips and caging her between his body and his car. "Building maintenance?"

Looking over his shoulder, Maisy rested her hands on his chest and shrugged. It hadn't always been intense, gray darkness and dim lights, had it? She usually walked into the building through the front door, so she couldn't remember the last time she'd been there, but she was pretty convinced it used to look more appealing than… That.

"Yes. Half of the bulbs are gone," she pointed out.

He lifted his hands to her face, brushing his thumb over her jawline while sliding the other four to the back of her neck. "Are they?"

Guiding her to look at him, he tilted his chin down and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Maisy sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying his softness. "Mhmm…"

He pulled away, only enough to murmur, "Didn't notice."

And then he kissed her again. Curling his mouth around her bottom lip and getting a taste of it, then letting it go and repeating the process with the upper one.

Kind of dizzy, Maisy dropped her palms to his waist, grasping at his t-shirt for some balance just as he tilted her head to the side and drifted his kisses to her cheek.

"It's just…" She swallowed, keeping her eyes shut and focusing on the way his wet lips caressed her skin. "Kinda dark… Isn't it?"

Harry hummed, pressing more and more kisses. He took his time moving towards her ear, meanwhile drawing small circles on her lower jaw and pushing her body against the closed door.

"It is dark, yes," he said, brushing his nose next to her ear and allowing every word to resonate inside her. "Means no one can see us."

Maisy rested her weight on his car, and Harry waved both hands up through her hair, holding it into a ponytail. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulled her head back, then moved his kisses down to her neck.

God. That felt good.

Really good.

He kissed her again. And again, and again, and again. Parting his lips slightly and making it wet. Making it sweet. Making it noisy. Hmmmm…

She parted her lips, breathing heavily through her mouth. Heat seemed to rush to every spot he touched, and she could feel her pulse racing in her throat.

So good.

"I mean," she barely managed to say. "Maybe… Someone… Could…"

He hummed again, a little longer this time, letting her know he was listening even though he seemed much more preoccupied about covering her throat with warm, needy and calculated kisses.

"Yes…" He parted his lips wider, pressing them where her neck met her shoulder and sliding his tongue up and down. Wet, and warm. Once, and twice. "Maybe."

Harry knew what he was doing, tracing a dreamy and sensual path from one side to the other with his plump and juicy lips. Sucking slightly even now and then, soothing with his tongue, teasing with his teeth. Using his large hands to tilt her head as he pleased. Letting her know how careful and affectionate he could be, but also showing off his power and strength.

Maisy's heart skipped a beat, and her legs weakened.

"Wanna risk it?" he asked, breathing hot air into her ear.

Twisting her hands around his t-shirt, Maisy opened her eyes. She licked her lips and swallowed, putting herself together and finding the last remains of energy to say something back to him.

Truth be told, there was something about being the only two in that dark parking lot that made her feel excited to keep going. The danger was a turn on, and there was no other person that could ever make her feel as safe as Harry did, so she knew that if there was a time to be brave and risk it all, that would be it.

At the same time, the idea of getting caught by one of his neighbors—people she more than often encountered in the elevator or walking in the hallway—brought nervousness to the pit of her stomach. It was one thing to make out passionately and let others know how much you were into someone, but getting caught naked and mid-orgasm was completely different. At least when it came to Maisy, of course.

"That eager, huh?" she asked, facing the ceiling and waiting for him to tilt her head back down. "Can't even make it to the fourth floor?"

Her question put a smirk on his face, and it granted her wishes, causing Harry to tighten the grip of his fingers and guide her to look at him again.

"That eager, yes." He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose up and down her own. "Can you blame me?"

He let go of her hair and slid his fingers down, brushing the tips on each side of her neck.

"Been thinking about you in this outfit since I first saw you tonight."

He traced her collarbones, then breezed from her shoulders to her forearms, sliding his own shirt off from her arms, and then going all the way back up to her chest once again.

Her flesh prickled at his touch, and a brief shiver rippled through her, causing Harry's smirk to get even wider.

Just like before, his reaction was enough to snap something inside her. Because even though she enjoyed taking orders and being compliant to someone else's wishes, Maisy didn't enjoy giving all her power away. Not all at once, at least.

So she looked down at her own body, let Harry's shirt hang on her elbows, and raised her eyebrows.

"This outfit?" she asked, as if she hadn't bought that top specifically for that night. Or as if she had never heard Harry talking to the boys about bloody gorgeous tits before. Or as if she wasn't proud of the curves she had to offer. Or as if she hadn't hoped of getting his attention when she'd put the pieces together and stared at herself in the mirror earlier in the afternoon.

"Mhmm…" He grabbed the spaghetti straps between his fingers, then followed their path from her shoulders to her chest. "This outfit."

She glanced up again, then watched him carefully and patiently, fluttering her eyelids while drowning her voice in innocence and naivety. "What about it?"

"Do I really need to say it?"

Maisy nodded. "I would like you to, yes."

Harry hummed, and looked down at her chest. He toyed with the thin straps a little longer, hooking each one inside of his fingers and running through them up and down.

If Maisy would've had to guess, she would've thought he was pondering his next words. Weighing them up. Choosing them carefully. Making sure they wouldn't go unnoticed, and therefore making sure she wouldn't go unaffected. She'd seen Harry flirting so many times, that she knew how much liked the thrill of the chase. She'd also shared a lot of conversations with him about the subject, so she knew how much he cared about making other people feel good, even when he knew it wouldn't go further than a one night stand—although even if she hadn't talked to him about it, she knew that making people feel good was a trait that played a huge part in who Harry was; not only when dating or hooking up, but just in general.

"Well," he eventually said, clearing his throat and answering her question. "I mean, I didn't want to be disrespectful at the club, but…"

He moved his hands, leaving the straps of her top behind and tracing its edge instead.

"To be completely honest…" He brushed the tips of his index and middle fingers across her cleavage. Teasingly and featherly. Eying his own movements. Scanning the patterns he drew all over the swell of her breasts. "And only because you're asking…"

He paused to glance into her eyes, then slid his tongue between his lips and looked back down to his hands.

"I couldn't stop staring at these," he finally added.

Maisy's skin tingled, and her insides quivered. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the way his fingers made her feel. Enjoying the fact that he'd been staring at her breasts. And enjoying even more the idea of him filling his hands with them and giving both a forceful squeeze. Shit. She swallowed.

Her heart hammered in her ears, though, and her lungs didn't seem to keep up with so much information. She knew Harry could feel her chest moving up and down frenziedly under his touch, meaning that, once again, it would be impossible for her to hide how breathless he made her feel.

So she would have to use it in her favor, instead.

Shifting on her feet, she leaned fully into the car and breathed in deeply, filling up her chest and pressing her cleavage briefly into his hands. Then, she exhaled through her nose, leaving Harry's fingers running over empty air.

"And?" she asked, feeling herself taking control once again. "What's your verdict?"

He peeked at her and took a step forward, fingers finding her again. "My verdict?"

"Mhm. You like them?"

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and nodded, letting her know he understood the question.

Focusing on one breast, he moved his index finger up and down, drawing a straight line, then repeating the process an inch or two to the side.

"I think they're gorgeous," he said, connecting the two lines with a horizontal stroke.

Maisy smiled. "Thanks. I think so, too."

Harry smiled, too, then moved to her other breast. "You do, huh?"

Once again, he traced two vertical lines, and connected them horizontally with a third one.

"Mhmm…"

"Can't see why you wouldn't." He reached her sides and drifted down, roaming through her ribcage. "Can't see why anyone wouldn't."

He got past the exposed skin of her waist, then to the waistline of her pants.

"These are really nice, too." He sneaked four fingers between the fabric and her stomach, leaving only his thumb out as he grabbed onto the waistline and pulled her forward. Maisy gasped quietly, almost unnoticeable, stumbling on her feet while Harry skimmed his other hand down through her belly. "But I bet this one" —he tilted his chin down while she tilted her head up, and then he cupped between her legs, fully palming and covering her heat— "looks better."

Maisy snorted, pressing herself into his touch. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Holding each other's gazes, they both smirked.

Harry pushed his hand into her, backing her up and forcing her into the cold car while stepping forward. "Am I supposed to pretend I'm not dying to take your clothes off?"

Maisy shrugged. "I mean, I would rather if you got right into it, but if you want to keep playing games…"

Harry's smirk faded away. He rubbed his fingers up and down, making sure to stroke from one side to the other. Harsher. Fully. From her entrance, to her front. Just like he'd done earlier that day. But somehow even better.

Oh God. Maisy blinked, then moved her palms up to his arms, holding tightly onto him while flickering her eyes all over his face.

Something had happened.

There were no traces of playfulness or teasing anymore. No more smirks, no more cluelessness. No more fake oblivion. No more mulling over his words.

Harry looked focused and determined. Sure of himself. And yet ready to crumble.

"'M not playing games," he stated, touching her. Always touching her. "Would never play games with you."

Oh. The information clicked inside her mind, and she squeezed his arms. "I—I know."

She hadn't meant it like that, and she knew Harry wasn't messing around with her. He wouldn't do that. If he didn't want her, then he wouldn't be with her. Simply as that.

"Good." He slid his foot between her boots and parted her legs, then spread them even wider with his knee. "Now, I'd really like to make you cum."

Applying more pressure to his hand, he rubbed circles, just like she'd guided him earlier.

Ohh… Maisy fluttered her eyelids, then fully closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan and turning it into a soft whine, instead.

"Can I make you cum, pretty girl?"

Turning the corners of her mouth up, Maisy nodded.

"Right here?" He moved faster. "Right now?"

Oh God. She swallowed, then slid her tongue through her parted lips and glanced at him.

"I—Oh God—" The words flew out from her mind to her mouth, and she dropped her forehead to his chest. "Are there—Shit—Are there cameras here?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Then—"

"We can barely afford light bulbs. Or so I've heard."

"Oh my God," she chuckled, twisting his t-shirt inside her fingers as the feeling grew more and more intense with each stroke. "Shut up, and—Oh God… Just… Fuck."

"Yes?" he asked, the smile clear in his voice.

She breathed in and out, heavily and loudly, and slid one hand from his arm to her own waist. Pulling away from his chest, she stared into his green eyes and unbuttoned her pants.

"Touch me." And then, she unzipped them. "Now."

Harry smirked. He looked around and over his shoulder, then stood by her side and pushed her further towards the front of the car, closer to the wall. Maisy sighed, and relaxed. It was good to know they were in sync. That no matter how much they wanted to do that, none of them got to the point of disrespecting each other's—or other people's—boundaries.

And then, he sneaked his hand inside her pants, and every one of her worries and random thoughts vanished away. She focused on him, and on the things he did to her. She focused on the way he stood straighter and stretched his arm, then got in between the lace of her thong and the warmth of her skin. She focused on the way he stepped forward and relaxed his body into her side, too, throwing his free arm around her neck while angling his other forearm to get his fingertips past her hair, and right into her wet flesh.

"Fuck."

They looked at each other for a second, and then they both chuckled, simultaneously leaning in for a whole new kiss.

"Fucking finally…" Harry mumbled.

He dipped his middle finger between her folds and stroked it up and down, collecting her wetness and spreading it around. Maisy shivered, and her hips jerked forward, almost against her will. With a grunt, Harry pulled his hand off from her pants and broke the kiss, bringing his middle finger to his mouth and sucking it in.

He closed his eyes when tasting her, and Maisy's body got on fire. Grabbing his t-shirt into fists, she pulled him closer, then licked her way around his jaw. Tasting whatever inch she could reach, and as much as she could, while he put his hand back inside her pants.

"C'mere." He kissed her again, and dipped his fingers between her folds again. Stroking them up and down. Spreading her open. Getting to know every corner of her.

Maisy sighed. She moved her hands, grabbing his neck, and his bicep, then let her body react to his wonderful, skillful fingers. His never stopping fingers. Stroking up and down, up and down. Rubbing circles. Pressing her clit. Rubbing her clit. So good. So, so good.

"Oh God." She leaned into him, moving her hips and searching for more friction. "Harry…"

"Yeah?"

More. She needed more.

"Ugh," she practically whined, opening her eyes. "Touch me."

"I am touching you."

She smacked his shoulder. "Then touch me more."

Harry laughed, then quickly kissed her again. He hunched slightly and pressed his middle finger inside her. Just barely, though, not even making it to his first knuckle before freezing and kissing the corner of her mouth.

"Like this?"

"More."

Half an inch forward.

"Like this?"

"Oh my God!" She grabbed his wrist, and glared at him. "I hate you so much right now!"

He smiled, kissing her cheek, and her chin, then her mouth. "No you don't."

Maisy rolled her eyes. "I do, yes."

"Hmmm."

With half of his middle finger still inside her, he pressed one side of his hand on her clit, then went back to rubbing circles.

She let go of his wrist and placed both hands on his shoulders, then threw her head back and rolled her hips back and forth.

"You said you'd make me cum…"

Keeping the steady movement of his hand, Harry kissed her cheek.

"You're right, baby."

Baby.

Maisy throbbed between her legs, then squeezed her eyes shut.

"I did say that," he added, and she huffed.

"So make me, damnit."

"Alright baby," —he bent his knees, then pushed his middle finger deep inside her— "Alright."

Oh.

Maisy moaned.

He slid his hand and pushed his finger out. Then thrusted back inside. Curving it, he pressed it against her wall, searching for that spot that would drive her insane. When he found it, Maisy's knees wobbled, and she melted into him.

"Oh God." She looked into his eyes, breathing from her mouth while he stared back at her.

"Yeah?" Out. And in. Hitting into that same spot one more time. "Right there?"

She bit her lip, and nodded. "Mhmmm…"

He pulled his lonely finger out, then pushed two inside. Aiming for that same delicious spot, over and over again. Making her feel good—so, so good.

She held onto him, hypnotized as she watched the beautiful green of his eyes, and he threaded his free hand through her hair, pulling her till his lips were against her temple. Breathing into her while he worked his strong fingers inside her. Pumping so hard that she could hear her dripping wetness in the dead-silent parking lot.

"God…" She bit her lip. "I dreamed about this for so long."

"Yeah? Is it like you dreamed it would be?"

"Much… Much better."

Harry sighed, then tightened the grip around her hair and tilted her face to the side. "C'mere."

He kissed her firmly, then, connecting their lips and keeping them together while he tried his best to angle his arm and hit the spot hidden inside her.

"Fuck…" She moaned into his mouth. "Can you… Oh God… Can you make it three?"

He hunched down, wriggling inside her pants to adjust his hand.

"Shit." He pulled away from her mouth and looked over his shoulder, then back at her. "Can't with these pants… And I don't want to undress you here…"

Maisy nodded. "Okay."

"Sorry." He pumped in and out again.

"It's—It's fine, I just… I need more."

"Then I'll give you more."

He pulled his fingers out and held her tightly with his palm, then spinned her body around. Pressing his chest to her back and hovering over her shoulder, he held her body firmly with his other arm, and proceeded to work between his legs. He pressed one finger to her clit and rubbed circles, gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his movements. The new position allowed him to relieve some of his own tension, too, rocking his hardening bulge against her ass.

Maisy melted into his hold, throwing her arm up and around his neck and holding tightly onto him while moving her hips back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

That was so much better.

Oh God.

He squeezed her tighter, keeping her in place while he made sure to give her everything she needed and wanted. More pressure, more speed. Kisses to her neck, and to her jaw. Breathing hotly into her ear.

"Yes, yes." She pulsed, throbbed, and quivered. "Oh God."

Harry moved steadily, but faster. Pushing her further, and further.

"That's it, baby," he murmured into her ear. "That's it. C'mon."

He pushed her further and further. And even further.

Until Maisy finally exploded, shuddered, and trembled.

''Ah!"

She fell forward, and Harry grabbed her. Pulling her upright, and driving her through her climax. Out of breath and numb, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed him. Silently begging for him to stop.

He complied and pulled his fingers away from her clit, soothing her and shushing her when she hissed. But then he removed his hand from her pants and automatically took it up to his mouth, licking and sucking the mess she'd made while humming next to her ear. As if she was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

Maisy moaned, almost painfully, holding onto his arm around her waist and instinctively drawing circles with her ass up and down his length.

"Please. Please. Just take me upstairs now."

— — — — —

The walk to the fourth floor happened in a rush. They didn't let go of each other while walking, nor stopped kissing or touching when they got inside the elevator. And by the time they were inside the living room, Harry's t-shirt was already on the floor and Maisy's boots were long forgotten by the door.

They blindly guided each other around the furniture, kissing and touching while they unbuttoned each other's pants. Harry's were the first to get lost on the hallway, and Maisy didn't miss one second before feeling him up through his briefs. He grunted and sighed, chasing her mouth while encouraging her to take the rest of her clothes off.

Maisy stumbled as they got inside his bedroom, and they both laughed, having to slow down and take a deep breath before moving on. But then she sat on the foot of the bed and Harry kneeled in front of her, going along with every single one of her movements and helping to undress her.

He kissed her legs, and moved his lips up her body, losing himself with her scent when he nuzzled his nose between her legs. He kissed her on top of the laced thong, and then pulled the item off her body. He moved up, and they captured each other's mouths once again. Kissing, sucking, nibbling. He felt her up, and she felt him up. She squeezed him with her palm, and traced him with her fingers. He breathed in and out heavily from her mouth, too worked up to properly kiss her. And then she kissed his bottom lip, holding it and sucking it into her mouth as she slid into the elastic of his briefs and finally touched him.

Harry moaned. So raw, manly, and helpless at the same time that it made her smile.

She stroked him up and down, then. Up and down, up and down. He was full, firm, and hot under her hand. Rigid. Solid. His own neediness had already gotten him wet, but not enough for her hand to slide as smoothly as she would've liked, so she pulled it off and brought it to her mouth.

Harry took the opportunity to take the last item off, his shaft hitting his stomach and making him hiss. He stroked himself, crawling over her body before diving into her neck.

Maisy squirmed, and moaned. She searched for his hand, and once she grabbed it, she pulled it directly to her chest.

"Want them in your mouth," she murmured, squeezing her breast with the help of his hand.

Harry buckled his hips into hers, and cursed into her skin. He sat on his heels and brought her along by her arms, then pulled at the sleeves of his own shirt to take it off her body.

"Tomorrow morning you're wearing this again," he said, holding up his shirt in his hand and then throwing it to the floor. "And I'm gonna fuck you in it."

Maisy smiled. "Yes, sir."

He sighed then shook his head, and she giggled. Lifting one arm, she unzipped her top with the other one. Harry helped her get rid of it, and then he was all over her body once again. Snuggling into her chest and parting his mouth to get a taste of her breast. Squeezing it into his hand and sucking it fervently. Nibbling her nipple, flickering his tongue. Sucking even more.

"Bloody fucking gorgeous," he mumbled around her.

"God, yes." She relaxed into the mattress, threading her hands into his hair and arching her body into his mouth. "Take more."

He sucked deeper, unashamedly slurping as he drooled all over her skin and grinded against her hips.

Maisy exploded with pure, raw, and wild need for him. She bent her knees and placed her feet on the bed, then spread her legs open. Stretching her arm between their bodies, she grabbed his length and pressed his tip between her folds, rubbing up and down her wetness.

"Fuck." She moaned, rolling her hips up.

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunted. "You're so fucking sexy."

He moved to her other breast, massaging the one he had just abandoned. Losing himself in her taste and squeezing her just as fiercely as he sucked her into his mouth.

Fuck. Maisy really liked that. She really liked when men loved her breasts, but Harry being the one who sucked them into his mouth was mind-blowing. It made her feral. It drove her insane.

"Hell yes." She moaned, and he moaned.

She threaded her free hand around his curls and pressed him closer to her chest. Hoping to suffocate him with her breasts. "Keep going…"

Harry hummed, drinking her in while writhing against her hand.

She scratched his scalp with one hand, and pressed him between her folds with the other. Rocking her hips back and forth while he got drunk on her. "Just like that…"

He searched for her hands, then, slotting their fingers together and sinking them onto the mattress while he devoured her entirely. Letting her breast go with a loud pop and moving immediately to her neck.

"I need you," he mumbled, spreading open-mouthed kisses to whatever he could reach. "Now. I need you now."

She hooked her legs around his waist, adjusting so he could roll and rub himself against her clit. "Mhmm… Please."

He bit her neck, and she dropped her head back, arching into him and squeezing his hands.

"Condom," he mumbled. "I'll—Condom…"

"Mhmm…"

Maisy nodded, dropping her legs to the mattress, and Harry moved, stretching to open the drawer on the bed side table. She took the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his shoulder, tasting him slowly and fervently. He grunted, having trouble concentrating, but eventually grabbed a foil package and moved back to her mouth.

He kissed her, then pulled away to tore the wrapper open with his teeth, and kissed her again. They moved together to put on the condom, always finding ways to keep meeting for tender and lazy kisses. Once he was ready, Maisy shuffled on his bedsheets and made herself comfortable, watching as he slotted between her legs and then crawled to place one elbow next to her head.

Holding himself with one arm and looking into her eyes, he took one hand down and grabbed himself.

She hugged his neck, and he teased his tip around her clit, then tapped it twice against her entrance.

Maisy hissed, and Harry grunted.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, guiding himself inside her body. "I really, really hope I last."

Maisy laughed, and he smiled. And then they kissed.

She instantly hooked her legs around his waist, resting her heels above his bum and encouraging him to get closer. To go deeper. To fill her.

Kissing.

Panting.

Moaning.

Shivering.

Maisy squeezed her eyes together, feeling the burn of the first stretch. And Harry kissed her again. Maybe trying to sooth her. Or maybe because he just couldn't stay away.

"You good?" he asked, caging her head between his forearms.

"Yeah…" She licked her lips, and blinked. "So good."

"Can I fuck you like this?" he asked. "Wanna see you."

She nodded. "Whatever you want. Just fuck me already."

Harry chuckled, then rolled his hips, sliding in and out slowly, just to test the waters.

"Whatever I want?"

Maisy sighed, and nuzzled her hands into his curls. "Yes. Whatever you want."

In…

And out…

"In that case," he said. "Wanna fuck you like this tonight."

In…

And out…

"And want you to ride me tomorrow."

Maisy smiled.

In…

And out…

"Wearing your shirt?" she asked.

"Fuck yes."

In…

He brushed the side of his nose with hers, and smiled, too. "Nothing but my shirt."

And out…

In…

She nodded. "Mkay…"

And out…

"Hmmm."

In…

And out…

"We'll have…" he started, then kept going as he followed the affectionate and sensual pace of his hips. "The rest… Fuck… Of our lives… To try… Different… Positions… Anyway… Yeah?"

Maisy smiled again. "The rest of our lives, huh?"

In…

Harry kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. "Too cliché?"

And out…

She shook her head. "I like the sound of it."

"Yeah… Me too."

In…

And out…

In…

And out…

"Fuck," he growled.

Picking up the pace, he held his weight firmly onto his forearms, then moved his hips and focused on thrusting into her. In and out, in and out, in and out. Faster. And deeper.

In and out.

Maisy whimpered and squeezed her arms around his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as he built a frantic pace.

In and out.

"Took me all this… Shit… All this time to figure it out," he mumbled. "I'm not—Fuck—I'm not letting you go now."

She arched her back, and sank her nails into his back. "I'm not going anywhere."

He smashed their mouths together. Rocking his hips into her. Pounding into her. Faster. Deeper. The bed knocked into the wall. And their skin smacked together.

Hell yes.

So good.

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

So fucking good.

Loud.

Desperate.

Needy.

Hungry.

Feral.

"C'mon baby…" he mumbled around her lips, then took one hand down to her waist. "C'mon…"

More. More. More.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Deep. Deep. Deep.

"Y—Yeah… Right—Shit. Right there… Oh my God… Keep going… Keep going…"

"You're so loud," Harry chuckled, squeezing her waist and keeping up the reckless pace. "Fucking… Love… It… Fuuuck."

Maisy gasped. She scrunched up her face, and gripped his ass with both hands.

"More… I need… More…"

"Jesus Christ…" Still holding his weight with one arm, he let go of her waist and moved between her legs, then rubbed her swollen clit. "Like that?"

"Fuck yes. Yes. Oh God, Harry… Harry… Oh God… Yes."

"C'mon then… C'mon… Let me see you…"

She moaned loudly, crying out as her walls spasmed and contracted around him and all the tension snapped at once, causing her body to tremble from head to toe.

"Fuck—" Harry closed his eyes. "Isy— Shit… I'm… Isy… Fuck."

He shattered on top of her, pulsing inside her walls as he emptied himself inside the condom and went still with each—

last—

fucking—

thrust.

"Fuuuuuck."

He held himself and pulled out, then finally collapsed into her.

Beats of silence went by. Deafening silence. A silence they hadn't ever shared before. Not in five years of friendship. Not with anyone else they'd ever been up until then. A silence that enveloped both of them naturally, that gave them time to recollect their thoughts and catch up their breaths. And a silence that, after another couple of beats, got them both rolling in bed and laughing out loud.

"Oh my God…"

Maisy hid behind her hands, feeling the mattress sink as he got up and got rid of the condom. Although she didn't want to, she followed his steps, going to the bathroom and cleaning herself up.

Moments later, when she walked back into his bedroom, she found Harry laying in bed, wearing clean briefs and waiting for her.

"C'mere," he said, patting the place next to him.

She curled her lips into a smile and practically ran to him, jumping into his bed and snuggling into his side.

"Jesus Christ Isy…" Harry pulled her naked body to himself, sneaking one arm under her neck and sliding the other one around her waist. "I'm so happy and also so fucking mad right now."

"What?" She placed one hand on his chest and hooked one leg around his waist. "Why are you mad?"

"Because!" He laughed. "Can't believe you've been hiding this side from me all this time."

"Hmm… No I haven't."

"Yes, you have."

"No, because I don't even have a side to hide!"

"You totally do. All loud… Chatty… Bossy…"

"That's not true."

"It isss tho…"

"Oh, shut up."

"Exactly!" He laughed even louder, then forced his voice in a poor attempt of mimicking her. "Shut up Harry. Touch me Harry. Fuck me Harry. More Harry. I need more Harry. More Har—Ouch! Heyyyy!"

Maisy let go of his nipple, then slapped his chest. "Stop being stupid!"

"Will you stop fucking pinching me?" he asked, smacking his palm loudly against her ass.

"Shit!" she yelped and laughed, jolting closer to his body.

"You like it rough, don't you?" he added right after, then pinched right under her bum.

"Harry!" Laughing louder, she squirmed inside his arms. "Stop!"

"You like it rough, and you're filthy."

"Oh my God." Maisy rolled her eyes, catching her breath between all the laughing. "So? What's wrong with that? Huh?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Well, then stop judging!"

"I'm not—What? I'm not!" He shuffled, staring into her eyes and caressing her cheek. "Are you kidding me? I fucking love it!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Mhmm… Sure."

Harry shook his head, and smiled. "Don't be silly… It's just… I don't know, but it felt different, y'know? Like… Fucking great sex… But not just like… The sex, sex, y'know? Everything about it… I don't know. I guess I just never had something like this before… Just… So fun and fucking hot at the same time… Y'know what I mean?"

Maisy bit her lip, and nodded. She cradled his cheek and moved closer, then pulled him in for a slow, sweet, and long, long kiss.

"Yeah," she whispered, pecking his mouth one more time and sliding her hand to the back of his head. "I know exactly what you mean."

Harry grunted softly.

"See?" He squeezed her bum. "And you been keeping this away from me! All this time!"

Maisy rolled her eyes—for what felt like the hundredth time. "Okay. Have you thought that maybe, maybe, if you had made a move on me instead of pulling up random girls at bars, you would've known sooner?"

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again.

"You're right." He rested his forehead against hers and nodded. Then, he smiled. "Thank God my girl's got attitude, huh?"

Maisy bit her lip and smiled, too.

But then, she grinned. So big she even giggled.

"Your girl, huh?"

"Mhmmm…" He caressed her side. "If you want to be, of course."

"Am I going to be the only one?"

He pulled away, then looked firmly into her eyes. "I want you to be, yes. I want to do this properly. Wanna be with you. Only you. No-one else."

She threaded her fingers around the curls in the back of his head, then stroked his scalp with soft circles.

"I wanna be with you, too. Want you to be mine."

He smiled, and shrugged. "Already am. All yours."

"Good." She kissed him. "No more being just friends, then…"

"Fuck no!" He laughed, and pulled her in for another kiss. Then, he murmured into her lips, "Fuck that shit. We were never just friends, anyway."

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #here it is...#im gonna post it and hide away forever #byebye

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