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cherienymphe · 8 months

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Basic Training XIV (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

You woke up to chaos.

The empty space beside you where Peter normally slept wasn’t even something you noticed at first, too preoccupied with the ache in your body. Memories of the previous night were only filled with Peter’s lips on yours and his hands on your frame. You’d felt halfway delirious with how many times you begged Peter to make you come and how many times he’d appeased you.

You remembered threading your fingers through his dark strands, trying so hard to distract yourself from your own thoughts.

…and when you remembered why, you sat up with a gasp.

You were the only one in the room, and light shone inside from the rising sun. It was a whole new day, and thoughts of the previous night reminded you of bright red hair and the shining moonlight. You blinked, trying to think if you’d made the whole thing up. After all, it had been the middle of the night and there was no telling what your mind had conjured up.

However, the noise coming from downstairs told you otherwise.

It was a wonder that you hadn’t noticed it before.

There was so much commotion…and yelling. There was lots of yelling. Slowing sliding out of bed, you made your way to the door, and the closer you got, the louder it got. You could hear a baby crying, it sounded like a little girl, and you surmised that it was little Sarah. So many voices were mingling together at once, but when you cracked the door open, one voice stood out above the rest.

“There’s no telling how far she’s gotten, Steve,” you heard Bucky sneer, and the venom in his tone had you stepping back a bit. “She’s not like the rest! She’s from here, she grew up here, and she knows this town just as well as we do.”

You thought you heard him hit something, and the sound of breaking glass only a few seconds later confirmed that. You pressed one hand to the doorjamb, struggling to swallow. The memory of watching Nat disappear into the night was burned in your brain, and you ignored the heavy feeling in your chest.

“Sam’s coming down shortly,” you heard Steve respond, and the anger in his voice wasn’t hard to miss. “We’ll leave then. Search the woods, the town, anywhere she could be. She couldn’t have gotten far, not on foot.”

Disgust stirred in your gut at the way the blond reassured the other man, and you blinked, pushing back tears. Softly closing the door, you stumbled back and sat on the edge of the bed. You couldn’t quite make out how you were feeling, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

On the one hand, you wanted Nat to make it out of this hellhole and to help. Of course, you wanted her to escape, even if she was the only one who managed to get out of here. This was no place for anyone to be, and you’d feel a whole lot better if even just one of you made it out.

On the other hand…

Nat getting help and exposing every man here for the rapists they were would separate you from Peter forever. You knew that’s what you should want. Peter had a hand in the death of your friends, and he was your very own captor and rapist. More than anything, you should want Peter arrested and put behind bars for the rest of his life, but there was a part of you—and that part was so much bigger than you wanted to accept—that would be devastated to see him go.

Your friends were long gone, and while there was some doubt that she ever would, there was a chance your mom was already mourning you, already accepting that you were lost to her forever. With Peter gone, what did you possibly have to return to? A voice in your head whispered to you that you would at least have a life and freedom…but what did that mean for you at this point?

You completely lost all rhyme or reason at the mere sight of blood, and those first few months here—and the complete lack of control you had over your body—were fresh in your mind. You were so far gone, so beyond broken, and who besides Peter would even put up with that? Who…who would even want you?

You leaned over, pressing your face into your hands as you fought back tears.

It was then that the door opened, and they spilled over just as you looked up. Peter’s hard gaze softened at the sight of you, and you watched his shoulders sag before making his way to you. He was quick to take you into his arms, holding you tight and pressing his lips into your hair. You didn’t quite understand why at first until he spoke.

“I just…I had to hold you,” Peter whispered. “I had to make sure you’re here.”

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him too.

“Nat’s gone,” he finally whispered. “Snuck out some time last night or…this morning before day… I don’t know.”

Peter sounded exhausted and worried and angry all in one.

“Now, we have to find her,” he spat, pulling away.

You eyed him, eyed the anger on his face, and you looked down.

“I heard Bucky yelling,” you quietly said. “That’s what it sounded like, but I’d hoped…”

The rest of your words died in the air, stomach twisting as you fought to lie.

“After all this time…why would she do this now?” he said, moving by you to get to the closet. “I mean, you’re still adjusting…and Jane is pregnant.”

He disappeared into the closet, and you could hear him putting on clothes. You stared at the wall as he huffed, never having really witnessed Peter’s anger like that before. You didn’t know how to feel about it, and especially since it was due to a determined woman only wanting her freedom.

“She couldn’t have picked a worst time.”

You wanted to tell Peter that there was no such thing as a bad time when it came to someone simply wanting to escape the equivalent of a prison. You watched him exit the closet, and you wanted to talk to him, maybe make him understand Nat’s point of view. You hated how angry they were at her over something they had no right to be angry about. It made you think of what would happen to her if they caught her, and more tears spilled over.

Peter noticed.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, hurrying towards you and taking your face into his hands. “We’re going to find her.”

He held your gaze as he said this, sending you a reassuring smile, and you started to shake your head.

“She couldn’t have gotten far, and I’m one of the best trackers in the house…”

You stilled at that.

“With me, Steve, Bucky and Clint all tagging along…she doesn’t stand a chance.”

His words were meant to reassure you, settle your worries, but they only made you want to throw up. The way Peter talked about her…like she wasn’t even human…but instead some animal they had to drag back and lock in a cage.

You took a shuddering breath, vision blurry.

“What…what will you do to her if you find her?” you struggled to ask him, fearing the worst.

The way Peter’s face fell had your heart sinking, and he pressed his lips together, looking over your face before sighing.

“That’s not really up to me.”

There was a lot about his response that unnerved you. He spoke as if he had no inkling of what awaited her, but the drop in his expression told you differently. There was an apologetic look in his gaze that told you he knew exactly what she was in for, but most worrisome of all was that it was out of his hands.

It was in Bucky’s.

“What will Bucky do?” you murmured, and Peter looked away.

He swiped his tongue between his lips before taking a deep breath.

“There’s no telling…”

You struggled to breathe, throat tightening. All sorts of scenarios ran through your mind, but above all, all you could see was Margaret tied to that tree. All you could think about was one of the first days you’d been here and the full extent of Steve’s ire that Peter had made you privy to. Only this time, instead of Steve and Margaret…

It was Bucky and Nat.

The thought made you lightheaded, and you stumbled, collapsing on the edge of the bed. Peter reached for you, and you couldn’t stop crying. Maybe you should’ve stopped her somehow, ran after her maybe? Maybe they would’ve been nicer on her if they saw she changed her mind? Or maybe you should’ve told Peter? Peter wasn’t like Bucky or Steve…maybe Peter wouldn’t have punished her at all as he brought her back. Maybe you could’ve convinced him to let her off easy.

You suddenly reached out to him, pressing your fingers into his arms as you fixed him with a pleading gaze.

“You won’t hurt her, will you? If you find her…?”

Peter seemed to hesitate, and you let out a sob.

“Please, Peter, please, she-you don’t get it. You don’t understand,” you pleaded with him. “Please, don’t hurt her.”

Peter knelt before you, and your eyes followed him as he stared back at you with conflicting emotions flitting over his features.

“I have to bring her back…by any means necessary.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at that, and you felt Peter’s hands on your face, thumb’s brushing away your tears. You felt so exhausted all of a sudden, and you took a deep shuddering breath. You tiredly peeled your eyes open, begging Peter.

“Please, Peter…she’s my friend…and I don’t have many of those anymore,” you choked out, watching Peter sigh. “Promise me that you’ll try…and you’ll get them to try too.”

You watched him look away, deep in thought, chest rising and falling with another sigh. When he looked at you again, there was something in his eyes that looked…defeated. He gave you a small nod before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours. He then kissed your nose and forehead in that order as he stood.

“I promise,” he told you, lips pressed against your hair. “We’ll bring her back…and she’ll be safe.”

His hand lingered on your face before he finally turned to leave. You only looked away from the door when it closed completely, and conflicted with what you’d done, you turned over and pressed your face into the sheets.

“What was she thinking?”

Margaret’s worried tone reached your ears as you stirred the soup. Sarah was asleep on her hip, courtesy of Margaret’s nervous rocking. The woman hadn’t been still since you first saw her, and truthfully, you couldn’t fully blame her. Despite the obvious sentiment that it was perfectly understandable if things didn’t carry on as normal, almost none of you could force yourselves to remain still.

Margaret had been holding Sarah for hours, Christine had repotted every single plant in the whole house, and this was the fourth batch of soup you’d made. Of course, everyone else’s nervous ticks were not done for the same reason as yours, but it’s not like you could say that.

“I mean…it’s been years since she’s been here. What? Was she just…just biding her time?” Margaret wondered, breathless. “I thought…I thought she’d made peace with everything, I thought she was…happy.”

You could feel her eyes on you at that, and you slowly looked up. You could count the number of times on one hand that you’d seen Margaret something even akin to worried. With a husband like Steve, she just simply wasn’t allotted the same natural human emotions as everyone else. Steve wanted the happy picture-perfect family all the time.

Now, however, Margaret looked more worried than any of you.

“She seemed happy, didn’t she? Did she seem happy to you?”

There was some desperation in Margaret’s voice and gaze that made it easy to understand. After Margaret, Nat had been taken next, and when combined with how close Steve and Bucky seemed to be in comparison to all the rest, it had been easy to see that the two women had struck up a friendship and bond that had aged beyond all the others.

“Sometimes…yeah,” you eventually told her, and she frowned at that. “I mean, how happy could she really be…?”

Margaret didn’t reply right away at that, nodding in thought.

“…but…unhappy enough to run? She knows what they’ll do to her. She’s the only one to ever make it this far-they…”

Margaret tearfully looked away.

“They’re going to make an example out of her, and there’s nothing I can do.”

“If they find her,” you reminded her, and Margaret scoffed.

“They are going to catch her,” she sternly told you, holding your gaze. “Believe you me.”

The way she said it made it sound true, and even you felt your own doubts dwindling. Bucky’s angry voice from the morning was still burned into your brain, and even Peter looked far more upset than you were used to seeing him. Nat had made them all angry and determined, and such a combination was dangerous.

“I wish that she’d talked to me…told me…”

You looked up at her quiet voice, watching as she stared at the refrigerator.

“Does she not trust me…?”

You pushed away the memory of Nat disappearing into the night.

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to involve you…put you at risk too,” you assured her, and she looked at you. “I don’t doubt that she trusts you, but trusting you with something like this would be selfish, no?”

Margaret looked down.

“Think of the guilt, the worry, the way it would be eating away at you.”

You felt like you were speaking to yourself more than Margaret.

“Nat just wanted to risk herself.”

You ignored the fact that Nat thought she was pregnant before she left. While part of you wondered if the reveal of Bucky’s role in the death of your friends pushed her over the edge, part of you also wondered if that had anything to do with that. What if Nat confirmed she was pregnant somehow, and the thought of raising a child with him and in this place was just too much?

She’d said to you that she’d made peace with who Bucky was only for an even darker part of him to be revealed. It was very possible that Nat just couldn’t stomach raising a family with a killer, and who could blame her? It wasn’t something you wanted to mention for obvious reasons, but also because Margaret was raising a family with a killer too. Sharon as well. You didn’t want to point that out and bring up things Margaret was probably still working on making peace with.

You admired Nat, but you were nothing like her, and if Margaret had been like Nat some time in the past, that version of her was long gone. She still smiled at Steve and fussed over him and loved him all the while knowing what he did, and you were sure it was because she thought like you did. What choice did she have? She had a baby to look after and protect in addition to herself. Like you, she’d made her peace with the fact that she was never getting out of here.

That was much harder to reconcile with than it seemed, and you had no desire to make it harder on her.

The both of you fell into a comfortable silence as you finished cooking while she leaned against the counter with Sarah in her arms. Both Steve and Peter had been gone most of the day, and you’d started to ask her how this normally goes, if they come back for a break or if they only return once one of you has been caught, when you reminded yourself that this was not the norm.

Margaret had said that no one had ever gotten as far as Nat.

…and that because of that, they’d also make an example out of her.

You shuddered to think of what that all entailed, and again, you hoped they didn’t find her while that part of you hoped for the opposite. Even hours later, you still found yourself at war with yourself, unable to decide on what you wanted more despite what you knew you should want.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. They’ll find her,” the familiar voice said from next to you as you stared out of the living room window. “I know you two have gotten rather close lately. They’ll bring her back.”

You didn’t know how to respond to Stephen, unable to voice your true thoughts on the matter. Yes, it was true that you and Nat had grown closer, a different understanding between you, but you’d happily sacrifice that comradery if it meant that Nat had her freedom.

When bedtime came, you were reluctant to go. You knew that you’d have trouble sleeping and not just because Peter wasn’t there. The night before, when you’d decided to keep quiet about what you saw, it was easy to categorize it as a problem for tomorrow, but tomorrow was here and the hypothetical chaos that would ensue was already upon you.

You were in bed and staring at the window when you heard your door open, and you sat up in surprise.

Peter’s tired face greeted you when you rushed to turn on the lamp, and you blinked at him. Exhaustion aside, Peter looked horrible. Shallow grime and cuts littered his skin, and you found it hard to imagine that he’d been in the woods searching for Nat all day. So much effort and for what? To bring back someone who wasn’t Bucky’s to keep to begin with? You shuddered to think of the effort Peter would have put it if you had ever found the strength to run away.

“You’re back…?”

“For the night,” Peter said, reaching behind his head and pulling his shirt off. “Steve knows you can’t sleep without me…let me come back, and if they don’t find her tonight, I’ll be rejoining them in the morning.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, watching him get undressed while wrestling with your thoughts.

“I’ll be out in a little bit,” he softly told you, leaning over and touching your chin before disappearing into the bathroom.

You stared after him with your arms around your knees, wondering once again if you even wanted them to find her. Peter was such a permanent fixture in your everyday life now that you couldn’t see a future without him. As messed up as it was, it was true, and you knew without a doubt that you wouldn’t even be able to function without him.

You were fighting back tears when he finally emerged from the bathroom, freshly clean.

“Peter…”

He looked at you, expression inquiring.

“What’s going to happen if you don’t find her?”

His face changed almost immediately, and you almost regretted asking him that question. You watched him heave a heavy sigh, bare chest and shoulders rising and falling. He slowly sat down next to you, staring ahead before finally shaking his head.

“We will-.”

“…but what if you don’t?”

“We will!”

You jumped as his voice rang around the room, eyes wide and focused on Peter as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You could see then how stressful this was for him, and you wondered if he’d thought the same as you, if he’d been trying to ignore such thoughts only for you to bring them to his attention again.

“Don’t say that,” he slowly said. “We will find her.”

“…but Peter-.”

“Y/N.”

“If you don’t…what’s going to happen to you? Us.”

He gave you his full attention at that, a slight furrow between his brows as he studied you.

“I mean she’ll…she’ll find help, won’t she? She’ll come back with people who’ll arrest you?”

Peter thought for a short while before nodding.

“More than likely. Nat isn’t the type to only look out for herself,” he admitted.

You blinked back tears, fighting with yourself as your gaze fell to the sheets.

“What if we run…?” you slowly asked him.

You could feel his eyes on you, and the silence was loud, and you pulled your lip between your teeth,

“I mean, if it starts to look like you won’t find her…what if we run?” you looked at him now. “What if you and I just took off? Go into hiding somewhere and they never find you?”

You couldn’t describe how Peter was looking at you, and you didn’t know if you liked it. He stared at you for what felt like too long before exhaling through his nose before gently taking your arms. His dark hair was damp, a few droplets crawling down his face.

“I won’t abandon my brothers,” he firmly told you. “Do you understand me?”

You licked your lips, tears spilling over.

“…but what about me…?”

“Y/N-.”

“I can’t function without you,” you tearfully admitted. “I’m a mess, and you know it. Everyone in this house knows it.”

Peter’s jaw ticked as he listened to you.

“I’m the crazy one,” you cried.

“Don’t say that,” he argued, moving closer.

“I fly off the handle at a little bit of blood,” you spat. “I cry all the time, I…I pee on myself, Peter. They don’t even let me around the kids!”

Peter took your face into his hands, and you frantically shook your head.

“I’m the basket case,” you whispered. “I am…the way I am…because of you.”

You frowned at him.

“…and you’re telling me…that you won’t even choose me over them?”

Peter shook his head, making a noise of disagreement.

“It’s not that simple,” he told you. “We are a family. All of us. We don’t abandon one another-.”

“Who are they to me?” you screamed. “Why should I care about them?”

“…because they’re your family too! This affects all of us-.”

“No, this affects Bucky,” you sneered, and Peter froze. “Nat is his wife, right? Not yours, not mine, and this is a Bucky problem. You don’t have to make it yours…or mine. Peter, we can leave.”

You reached for him.

“It’ll just be us. You don’t have to go down with them, with him. You don’t, and especially not because he lost someone who was never his to begin with. Who cares if Nat ran away?” you cried.

Peter stared at you, eyes stricken and lips pressed together.

“He took her! What right does he have to drag ger back-?”

You swallowed the rest of your words when Peter’s fingers pinched into your jaw. His hand was tight on your face, and you winced in pain at the ache that began to stir in your bone. You reached up, grabbing his wrist, and Peter’s brown eyes appeared so much darker, so much colder as he regarded you. You realized that you’d said too much, revealed too much of your thought process as of late, and your lips trembled.

Peter blinked at you.

“Do not say that ever again.”

His other hand gripped your upper arm, and you winced.

“Do you understand?” he spat, shaking your head slightly. “Don’t you ever repeat that.”

“Peter-.”

“He has every right just as I have every right,” he lowly told you. “If you ever ran away, I would stop at nothing to have you in my arms again…and that is my right.”

A few tears skipped down your cheeks, and Peter took a calming breath.

“Do you understand?” he repeated.

You licked your lips, frantically blinking.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Do you know what would happen if anybody else heard you say that? That…that Bucky has no right to bring her back? That Nat was basically right to run away?”

You couldn’t stop your tears, and when he let your face go, your head dropped.

“You’ve been here long enough to know that isn’t a welcome thought,” he coldly told you. “I thought you were further along than that. That’s disappointing.”

You jerked your head up at that, eyes wide as you looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, I… I’m just so confused.”

That couldn’t be any truer, and if only Peter knew just how confused you were. After all, if Peter and the rest of them thought you all were a family, that Nat’s transgression was a transgression against the whole family, that Bucky had all the rights in the world to drag her back… What did that mean for your own transgression? What did that mean for you if it ever came out that you saw her leave…and said nothing?

“Come here, pretty girl,” Peter whispered, and you slid closer, fitting into his awaiting arms.

He pressed his lips to yours, and you reluctantly kissed him back. One of his hands rested on the back of your neck, the other snaking around your waist as he held you to him. The kiss was gentle at first, and you relaxed, but it wasn’t long before his hands tightened on you, and he bit your lip…hard.

You jerked away from him, the taste of blood on your tongue when you licked your lips.

Peter’s face was the most serious you’d ever seen, and you watched him reach up to roughly swipe his thumb along your lip. It hurt a bit, and Peter harshly rested his hand on the side of your face.

“Those words will never come out of your mouth again. Okay?”

“…okay,” you whispered.

He didn’t look pleased, but he did look satisfied for the time being, and he leaned in to gently kiss the corner of your lips.

“Let’s get some rest,” he softly told you. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

Peter laid down, pulling you with him, and you fought to ignore the possibility of a tumultuous future for you as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you against him.

You were repolishing a vase when Nat returned.

You hadn’t slept the best for multiple reasons, and you were kind of thankful that much wasn’t expected of you because you found yourself cleaning the same tables or same decorations two maybe even three times in a row. This whole ordeal was sickening, and several times now you’d had to fight the urge to vomit everywhere.

Either outcome was enough to send you into a spiral, but it wasn’t until Nat was walked through the door did you realize what outcome you’d really hoped for above the other. You were in the living room, so you were the first to realize they’d finally found her. You hadn’t thought much when the door opened, but the sounds of several pairs of footsteps had you looking up.

You almost dropped your vase at the sight of her.

Nat had looked better, that was for sure, but that wasn’t what you cared about. The relief that filled you almost knocked you over, and you hated yourself for feeling that way. Nat wasn’t fighting, but the even defiance on her face spoke volumes. Bucky had one arm while Steve had the other, and the malice you saw in her husband’s blue eyes had you shuddering.

It was then that her eyes met yours as she walked by, and they softened ever so slightly. If you hadn’t been familiar with her expressions by now, you probably never would’ve noticed. She held your gaze for a few seconds, and when she looked away, you felt tears kiss your eyes.

You mourned the brief bout of freedom that Nat had claimed, and you mourned the lifetime of freedom that was robbed from her yet again. You mourned your own possibility of a different future…but in the same breath…you were so relieved. The relief made your knees weak, and God did you hate yourself for it. Sure, there was some part of you that was sort of happy to have your friend back, but mostly…

You were just happy you wouldn’t be separated from Peter.

…and that did make you cry…because that was awful.

You slowly stumbled after them, peeking around Sam’s shoulder as Steve and Bucky led her down the hall. With a start, you realized they were taking her to the basement, and it took everything to swallow down your gasp. You pressed your hand to the wall, the other squeezing the polishing rag so tight it was a wonder it didn’t rip.

You jumped when a familiar hand touched your lower back, and you slowly glanced at Peter. His brown eyes were as kind as they normally were, no remnants of last night lingering, and he gently rubbed your back.

“She’s gonna be okay,” he whispered.

You looked down the hall again just as Bucky closed and locked the basement door. It looked like he struggled to do so, and you didn’t know if it was because of his anger or because of the supposed love he felt for her. He said something to Steve, and all three of them walked back down the hall. You avoided all of their eyes, only lifting your gaze to the basement door again when they were behind you.

You could feel Peter tenderly pulling on your dress, and you wiped your face.

You couldn’t stop staring at that door, wondering how long they planned to keep her down there, wondering just what they had in store for her. The urge to try and get her out was strong. After all, what had Nat done other than seek her own freedom? Why was that so wrong? Why was that befitting of a punishment?

“What?” you heard Buckly harshly ask. “You wanna join her?”

You turned around just as Peter spoke.

“Bucky,” Peter gruffly snapped at him, pulling you closer.

The two brunettes stared at one another, and you looked between them.

“I’m sorry,” the older of the two reluctantly relented. “I’m just… You don’t even understand how angry I am.”

His blue eyes met yours then.

“Don’t weep for her,” he told you. “She made her bed.”

You blinked when Bucky turned away, and you moved closer to Peter. It was hard to settle your heart, and Peter took your hand, trying to pull you along. Your eyes met Steve’s, and you didn’t like the way they narrowed at you. You were forced to look away when Peter touched your face, his gaze sympathetic.

“She’s gonna be okay…okay…?”

You gave him a slow reluctant nod, allowing him to lead you away. You could still feel Steve’s gaze on you, and you didn’t know what would be more suspicious: meeting it head on or avoiding it altogether. As Peter pulled you upstairs, you realized that the hardest part of this whole ordeal had only just begun…

…and it wasn’t just reserved for Nat.

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark peter parker #peter parker imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction

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sailoryooons · 9 months

Note

BOONGI REQUEST THE SEQUEL !!! honeymooning with yoongi and your trip is a little too richly scheduled considering how horny you both are.... leads to fucking in some interesting places 🙈

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Your tropical honeymoon is planned down to the very minute to get the most out of your trip but it seems that Yoongi has plans of throwing off your itinerary every time his hands touch you.

❀ Word Count: 4,355

❀ Genre: Established relationship, pwp

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Absolutely self-indulgent and gratuitous smut, literally this is the most porn without plot I have ever done, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, fucking from behind, semi-public fucking, light degredation, oral (m. and f. receiving), riding Yoongi, fucking from behind, face sitting, throat fucking, a lot of cum and spit and holes, Yoongi and reader fuck in public spaces where they cannot be seen a lot, temperature place, use of ice (please do not ever take ice from a random ice bucket and put it in your partners vagina, this is fiction and it was handy but do not do that lmao), cum swallowing and cum eating when you squint.

❀ Published: August 9, 2023

❀ A/N: This is sort of a part two? You do not have to read the first request to read this one, they are easily read separately. Thanks for giving me an excuse to just write porn. There literally is nothing here but porn, I don’t even know if they have chemistry, but they fucking. Honestly I had to cut scenes out of this because I also imagined the infinity pool moment and so many other moments because M and I are fucking insane and ruminate on this shit, but at one point it was just… getting longer and I was RUNNING OUT OF WORDS FOR DICK AND COCK AND I HATE THE WORD DICK IN SMUT IF FEELS NOT VERY SEXY. Okay. Here is my ode to the love of my life, M. This somehow made me more insane.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

“Come on,” You murmur, lips pressed against Yoongi’s warm forehead. “We have a breakfast reservation at that place we talked about.”

A deep groan rumbles through Yoongi’s chest. It’s dark in the bedroom of your resort, the lights still off and the sliding glass door window still shuttered. Your newly wed is tangled in white sheets, face pressed against the pillow and swollen with sleep. You bite your bottom lip to hide your smile as he buries his face deeper into the pillow.

It’s tropical warm in the room, your skin still heated from the sun the day before. Yoongi’s cheeks are sun-kissed blossom, bottom lip jutted out as he pouts. You think about the night before, biting that bottom lip hard as you came around him in the shower, cold water pebbling on hot skin.

Sighing, you climb onto him, knees on either side of his waist as you sit. His chest is flushed and warm as you lean down, dress riding up your thighs as you press your forehead to the side of his head. His hair is messy, an inky halo around him as he lets out a sound again, very close to whining.

Yoongi smells like coconut shampoo and palm breeze. It makes your stomach flip having him this close to you, flashes of the night before making your already sore thighs twitch. Ignoring your more carnal urges, you nudge him with your nose, huffing. Sliding your hands around to the back of his neck, you thread your fingers through his silky hair, holding him there.

“Don’t you want breakfast?” you ask, hoping the promise of food will lure him from bed.

Yoongi is fully awake now. “Mhmm.”

Yoongi frees his hands from the sheets and places them on your thighs, squeezing. His hands are warm and callused, sparking a curl of pleasure in you as he rubs them up and down your legs. It’s an innocent touch, but your thoughts turn devious.

When Yoongi’s hands trace to the round curve of your ass to grab a handful of flesh, you let out a breathy sound and tighten your grip on his hair. He hisses in appreciation, hips twitching off the bed as you growl, “What are you doing?”

Yoongi turns his head to face you, your foreheads pressed together as he bumps your nose with his. “I don’t need to leave for breakfast,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips as he talks. His right hand gives you a playful crack on the ass, making you squeak as the sweet sting riles you up, your knees squeezing his waist. “I can eat right here.”

His hands are firm, fingers dimpling your rear end as he pulls you against his stomach and rolls your hips. Your eyes flutter shut at the barely-there friction, Yoongi lifting himself up a little to help you grind against him.

“Yoongi.”

The chastisement is nothing more than half of a breath, already feeling arousal curl in your stomach. Your thighs stretch painfully from the night before, a feel-good burn that makes you spread your legs a little wider to feel the pleasurable strain.

“Come on,” Yoongi grunts. “Girl breakfast.”

“That’s not what that meme means.”

“Who gives a fuck. Sit on my face.”

Ignoring him is impossible. Yoongi’s hands palm your ass, pulling you forward. On unsteady knees, you shuffle up from his waist to his face, lifting the hem of your dress as you go. Yoongi hums appreciatively, slipping a hand between your legs to press his fingers against your clothed pussy.

“Fuck,” you whisper, the stimulation jolting. “We have an itinerary.”

“Fuck the itinerary. You were going to go to breakfast like this?” he asks, slipping a finger under your underwear, swiping through your dripping folds. “All wet and sticky?”

You whine, fists tightening in the fabric of your dress. He drags a curled knuckle up and down your pussy, pressing into your clit purposefully as he does, making your hips swivel a little. Yoongi laughs underneath you, mouth hot on your thighs as he leaves sloppy kisses, air cooling his spit on your skin as he goes.

There’s no escaping this. Any desire you had to go to breakfast with a view of the beach is gone as Yoongi nips at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, your legs trembling in anticipation. Yoongi is so good at this, making you bend to his will with just a few words and guiding hands.

Yoongi’s breath is hot on your center as he peels your underwear to the side. You look down at him, pressing your dress flat to give you the perfect view. His dark eyes are focused on your cunt, his lips bubble gum pink, tongue darting out to wet them. His hair is fanned out around him, some pressed to his forehead.

Smirking, Yoongi uses one hand to pull you forward, lowering you to his mouth. You hold your breath as he drags his tongue slowly from your leaking entrance to just below your clit before rolling licking back down, ignoring your bundle of nerves entirely. Your toes curl, immediately going white hot at the slow feeling of his tongue dragging through your folds.

“Oh,” you sigh, eyes shutting as Yoongi hums and repeats the motion, determined to take his time.

With one hand wrapped in your dress, you lean forward, pressing the other hand against the wall to keep you upright. You hang your head down, heady-heavy, eyes falling shut as you heave shuddering breaths.

Yoongi’s tongue is wicked, laving up and down experimentally as you shake on top of him. He hums appreciatively, pulling you down to his mouth further by your ass. A sharp moan escapes you when he fastens his mouth to you, sucking your clit gently. The suction makes your head spin, your skin over warm and tingling, feeling faint in the dark room.

“Shit,” you pant, listening to him make a mess of you, all wet smacks and happy hums. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees. “Girl breakfast. Or is it wife breakfast?”

You’re too busy rolling your hips gently against Yoongi’s face to shoot something smart back, lost in the rough drag of his tongue against your cunt, the buzz of his mouth when he hums. You feel the way your stomach tightens, the way that pressure in your core builds, the tensing thighs.

The sweet, saturated sound of Yoongi’s mouth backtracks your whines, your fist pressed against the wall, knuckles popping with the force. Sweat slicks down the back of your neck and your thighs tremble as you fuck his mouth in earnest, hips flexing.

It feels hot in the room, your dress sticking to your skin, panties stretched to the side as Yoongi has his way with you. The strap of your dress falls down, abandoned as you quiver, your shoes and purse long forgotten by the door as you start to come undone.

“Come on,” Yoongi pants against your pussy, tongue prodding your throbbing hole. You squirm at the feeling, wanting more. “Breakfast is supposed to have juice too.”

Your laugh sounds hysteric, closer to a high-pitched cry than anything. Yoongi is vicious, pressing his nose to your clit as his tongue fucks your entrance, drinking you in. You’re dizzy, ears ringing as your orgasm mounts. You start to tense up, teeth clenched, fingers pressed numb against the wall.

Eyes shut, head back, balmy skin, you come hard in his mouth, Yoongi’s tongue pressed against you, not missing a drop. You feel fuzzy drunk, letting Yoongi control your hips. He moves you against his mouth, bobbing his lead as he slurps, dropping staccato mhmms as he goes.

When you’re falling into his lap, skin sweaty and panting, Yoongi sits up, the lower half of his face shining with your slick. He licks his lips, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Thanks for the meal,” he teases. “I want more.”

A high-pitched zing whines through the air, drawing your attention to look at the fishing rod on the back of the boat. The reel spins out of control as the line runs wild, handle circling as the fish on the hooked fish runs wild with the line.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, turning back to him.

“Fuck the reel,” he growls, fingertips pressing into your hips hard enough throb.

The vinyl cover of the boat seat is slippery with sunscreen, sweat and a little cum. Sun heats your bare back. The burn on your shoulders is nothing to the fiery arousal spooling in your stomach as Yoongi pulls you up by the hips, dragging you along his slick cock.

It’s a calm day on the water, the only motion coming from the way you roll your hips, fucking Yoongi in earnest on the bow of the boat. Blue water glitters around you, reflecting the sun back up toward a cloudless, azure sky.

Salty wind cools the back of your neck as you throw your head back, gasping when Yoongi presses a thumb to your clit, circling slowly. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull is drowned out by the wet slap of your ass on Yoongi’s pelvis, already soaked from your first orgasm.

Your second high blazes through you hotter than the beaming sun. Yoongi growls between gritted teeth, his grip savage as he helps you fuck him. Up down, up down, up down. His chest is flushed and raked with angry red nail marks.

Fishing plans long forgotten, you continue to ride him, the feel of Yoongi’s cock stomach-deep, your walls gripping him tight as you race toward another orgasm. It feels so good, your knees slipping as the boat bobs under you, the up and down motion aiding the way you glide on his dick.

“Just like that,” Yoongi moans, head tossed back, hair damp and sweaty. He’s worked up, a beat of sweat dripping down his tan neck, jaw flexing as he tries to stop himself from coming. “Use me just like that, baby.”

And you do, the tip of his dick brushing your g-spot every time you slide down, working your closer and closer until you’re seated in his lap, cock pushed to the deepest parts of you while you come hard around him.

Yoongi waits for you to come down for your high, post-orgasm twitching and panting before he pins you to his chest and holds you while fucking up into you a few more times before he clenches his teeth and comes.

Hot and spent, you both melt into one another, skin sliding against skin as you lay on his chest. He softens inside of you and you become hyper aware of the slide of your mixed juices dripping from your folds and running down your leg. You don’t care, closing your eyes as you inhale deeply.

Eventually, Yoongi lifts his head to peer over your shoulder. You turn around to see that the line has broken on the road and Yoongi laughs, sounding exhausted.

“Fuck it,” he sighs, laying his head back down and tightening his hold on you. “I don’t care.”

“My wife is such a little slut,” Yoongi grins, leaning against the sink as you take him further into your mouth. “You love having a mouthful of cock, don’t you?”

Looking up at Yoongi with wide, teary eyes, you hum the affirmative. Dark blush creeps up his neck, his skin visible where the top button of his white shirt is undone. He looks to die for tonight, with his long, dark hair slicked back and just touching his shoulders, a white short-sleeved button up, and dark pants.

And you? You looked nice earlier, but now your dress is messy with sand from the bathroom floor, mascara running down you face as you swallow around your husbands cock, feeling your throat tighten as you force yourself to the limits.

You’d at least manage to pay the bill before dragging him into the palm-textured bathroom and dropping to your knees, ignoring the way stray grains of sand from the beachside restaurant burn your knees in favor of taking him into your mouth.

Yoongi slouches against the sink, his shoulders pressed into the mirror as he closes his eyes and angles his head back. You take him further into your mouth, letting spit escape the sides and run down your chin, working what you can’t fit with your hand. Your wedding ring flashes in the low light and drives you mad, loving the way the diamond looks on your hand while it’s wrapped around him.

You’re ravenous tonight, staring up at him with clenching thighs, watching the way Yoongi unravels. Pulling back, you pop off of him, strings of spit and precum connecting the brown tip of his cock to your lips. You break it, leaning forward to run your tongue along the frenulum of his cock, earning a whine from him.

Grinning, you continue your assault, dragging your tongue down the thick vein on the underside of his cock until you reach his balls, giving a teasing lick that makes his hips cant off the sink.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he warns. “I fucked you the way you asked for three times today, baby. Don’t I deserve to cum in that pretty little mouth?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pumping him with your hand as you come back up. “Want to come in my mouth?”

Yoongi’s hand shoots to the back of your head, fingers squeezing your skull. It’s not painful, but it’s firm, making you grin up at him, delighted. “Okay then,” you agree, tightening your fist on him a little more, pumping him a little fast. “Fuck my throat.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yoongi’s grip on the back of your head stays solid, a comforting feeling as you get a little dizzy from the way he looks down at you, eyes fathomless. Starving. He uses his other hand to prop himself against the sink before he drives his cock into your mouth.

The slide is rough and messy. You flatten your tongue and open up the back of your throat, the sound of you choking wetly around him drowning out the hiss of air between his teeth. You breathe through your nose, your hands gripping his thighs and digging your nails in hard into his flexing thighs.

Absently, you wonder if anyone walking by can hear the gurgle of your mouth, the stilted grunts as he flexes his hips.

Throat burning, eyes stinging and dripping tears, you let Yoongi go wild until he’s coming deep down your throat, a hot and thick mess. He pulls out gently, letting you gasp for air, mouth swollen and sticky as you pant.

Yoongi pulls you up from your knees, holding you tight as you lose your balance. His grip is crushing and he smashes his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste the mix of cum and spit, hungry for it.

When he pulls away, his lips are pink and slick and his chest is heaving.

“We’re going to miss that concert I bought tickets for,” you complain, giving him a pout.

“Fuck that concert, we’re going back to the hotel room and I’m going to fuck you for the next three hours, baby.”

Admittedly, hiking wasn’t the best event on your itinerary. When you’d planned the adventure originally, you hadn’t accounted for the fact that your legs would be near unusable from days of Yoongi folding you in half to drill into you, or the fact that the jungle is, in fact, hot and humid.

Yoongi walks next to you, his thumbs tucked into the straps of his backpack as he goes. His hair is pulled up into a bun, a few loose strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. He hasn’t complained once since starting the uphill trek through the trees and sifting sand, though you can tell he’s also spent from his inability to stop touching you this entire trip.

But you really want to attempt to get to a single thing on your itinerary for this trip, and the ruins will be out of the question tomorrow when it rains. So, you persist, legs wobbling as you high up the path, shirt sticking to you and scent of sunscreen following you like a coconut cloud.

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Yoongi askes, looking up at the gleaming sun filtering between branches. “We haven’t seen a single person.”

“There’s steps, aren’t there?” you ask, gesturing to the path. “There’s ruins that aren’t as much of a climb that everyone prefers. Plus, it’s hot as shit. I wanted to see the good ones though.”

“Anything for you.”

A few more minutes pass before Yoongi sees you lagging a little. The burn in your thighs is real, remembering acutely the way Yoongi had pressed them to your chest last night as he fucked you slow and deep. The memory makes you shiver, a post-orgasm twitch still haunting you an entire day later.

“Come on,” Yoongi urges. “It’s flat up here, we can step off the path and take a break.”

Yoongi finds some broken trees that have fallen sideways to sit on. You’re grateful, taking deep gulps of water. It immediately cools you down and you close your eyes, rolling your shoulders. Yoongi guzzles down water next to you, his arm pressed up against your.

After a few minutes sitting, you get up and turn to face the fallen tree, bending over at the waist to lean against it in a deep lunge, stretching your hamstrings. It’s a soothing sort of pain, the extension of muscle a relief.

Yoongi looks at maps on his phone behind you, waiting as you you switch legs and arch your spine, feeling a few joints pop in release. It feels good and you sigh, letting the tension bleed out of you.

Hands find your ass, gentle and curious. You look over your shoulder to find Yoongi looking at you with his brows raised and head tilted. A question. You know he’ll back off immediately if you shoo him away. Instead, You burst into laughter and shake your head, “Seriously?”

“What?”

You stare at him. He looks delicious, sweat dripping down his Adam’s apple, hair pulled back. He’s dressed simply and yet, looking at him looking at you, wanting you the way that he does makes you vibrate. It doesn’t matter how many times you have him, you always want him more. And again.

You married Yoongi for a myriad of reasons. Because he is gentle and kind, because you like the way he takes his coffee and reads the paper in the morning, because you like that he uses mint shampoo, because you like that he has to line his shoes up perfectly next to the door.

Everything about him enchants you, and you’re over the moon to have someone who doesn’t shame you for your carnal desires, that you have someone who matches the energy, who can take it and give it to you anywhere you want.

Yoongi is the perfect balance, always knowing when to initiate, always knowing when it's a good time.

“I know that look,” he smiles. “Now you’re thinking about it.”

“Can you be quick? I don’t want someone to stumble on us.”

“Fuck yeah I can,” he promises, dropping his backpack and popping the zipper on his pants. You let out a pathetic sound at the sight, earning a smug look from Yoongi.

Yoongi peels your legs and underwear down to your knees, just enough to get access to you but also safe enough to pull them up quickly if you need. His clothed chest presses against your back as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your middle in what seems like an innocent hug.

You gasp as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, the stretch a little painful with no prep. It doesn’t matter, though. He pushes in slowly, letting you get used to it until he’s pressed in to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around him.

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, pressing butterfly soft kisses to your cheek and temple. He starts thrusting shallowly, stealing your breath away. “You are my perfect, beautiful, wonderful wife.”

“Fuuuck,” you whisper. Yoongi isn’t fucking around, making his thrust precision perfect, pressing that soft spot inside of you. Your thighs are pressed together, making the fit even tighter, feeling him even more. “You’re just saying that cause I’m letting you fuck me against a tree.”

“Untrue, I say this all the time.”

That’s fair. Yoongi does tell you that he loves you. More often now than he used to, more verbal than his little utterances of love by readying your coffee long before you were awake in the morning or picking up the things you were missing from your pantry on the way home.

“You’re right,” you pant, head lolling to the side as his mouth seeks the heat of your throat. “I love you too”

The tree bark bites into your hand as you take him fully. With the way your legs are pressed together and the angle that you’re standing, it feels like Yoongi is punching to the very core of you, making the world spin. You think you might collapse over the tree if he weren’t holding you up.

“You’re just saying that cause I’m fucking you against a tree.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the fact that Yoongi picks up the pace, fucking you hard and with purpose. His hand slips between your legs, finding your clit and pinching it lightly, making you squeal and twitch. He laughs, choosing to circle it instead, working you faster toward an orgasm as he pounds into you, punching the breath from your lungs.

Sex with him is different every time. You don’t know how you manage to never get tired of it, but it never feels the same. Not with him. Every time feels like you’re discovering something new,

When you do come, you suddenly feel like you can run the rest of the way up to the ruins, energized on the endorphins alone.

“I’ve heard of post nut clarity,” Yoongi jokes, tucking his cock back into his pants. “But never post nut energy.”

“It’s like a second wind.”

“Dickened wind.”

You glare at him, tossing his backpack to him. “Stick to writing songs, not jokes.”

“You’re so fucking swollen,” Yoongi groans, thumbs peeling apart your folds. “Cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your face pressed down into the pillows of the daybed, ass up in the air with Yoongi behind you. The sound of the pool and anyone beyond the closed curtains of the banana are muted by the tropical music of the DJ. All the better to drown out the sound of your husband spitting onto your exposed heat.

“Cause you’ve been fucking me insane all week,” you protest, body vibrating. Yoongi hums thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything, letting his spin trail slowly down your slit. You’re already wet from the way his greedy mouth sucked at your chest. “Baby, please. I want your mouth.”

“Yeah? You all hot and bothered?”

“Yes.”

“Let me cool you off.”

Yoongi’s hands leave your ass for a moment. You’re too overheated from days in the sun and the rising tropical temperature to look at what he’s doing. You’re in a slow daze, a little buzzed from sweet drinks and Yoongi’s mouth, from sloppy kisses that taste like strawberry and Yoongi’s cute little sunburn on his ass from falling asleep after letting you drive him insane with your mouth on the private balcony the day before.

Now, you hear the clicking of something moving around the ice bucket. Your brows furrow and you’re about to turn your head to look at what Yoongi is doing when you feel ice cold water slow drip onto your ass.

“Shit,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of the daybed and arching your spin. The water is a cool burn, a relief that drives you mad as he makes a pleased sound. “Ohhh fuck, again.”

“More?”

“Fuck yeah.”

There’s the sound of more ice and Yoongi is dripping the cold water on your ass again, making your lower spine tingle and toes curl. The cold drips move closer to your cunt until he’s directly over your clenching hole. The shock of cold against hot sends you into a frenzy. You wiggle your ass back and forth, asking for more, eager for it.

Yoongi has never been one to deny you. This time, you feel his lips around an ice cube, dragging his cold kiss over the swells of your ass, letting the ice melt on his tongue before lapping at your pussy, tongue cold against your dripping heat.

It drives you mad. Your fingers ache with the way you clutch the pillows, pressing your face hard into the daybed as Yoongi does this a few times, bringing his cold lips to mouth hungrily at you until it’s all he’s focused on, forgetting the ice in favor of sucking greedily at your clit.

Your spine feels like it might crack, bowed dangerously as you press back into his face. He moans at your eagerness, tongue twisting between your folds as eats you out in earnest. If it weren’t for the privacy curtains and the DJ booth, you’d never get away with this. Yoongi is not quiet, smacking his lips like a glutton.

Air escapes you. You squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm bears down on you. Your face is pressed so far in the cushions that you don’t think you can breathe, your lungs contracting and your chest squeezing as you come on his tongue without warning, a silent scream raging through you.

Stars burst behind your eyes. Yoongi takes it in stride, licking you long and slow as you remain rigid for the duration of your high. When it finally begins to subside, you fall to the side, sprawling boneless and feeling drunk.

“Holy shit,” you croak, voice gone. “You were right. Fuck the itinerary. This is so much better.”

#yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #suga smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #halis happy agust #minors dni #minors do not interact

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revehae · 8 days

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maneater (r. fantasies)

warning: noncon, semi-public sex, jisung × (f) reader x jaemin

wc. 1.3k

love that i wrote this for @neocentral and she’s also the only reason i was able to recover this 🫶🏽 EVERYONE SAY WE LOVE YOU BELLE

maybe it was jisung's fault, the unfortunate outcome of his generous naivete. foolishly, he had mistaken your kindness for infatuation, your exuberant flashes of teeth when you glanced his way as flirtatious gestures of mutual affection.

jisung wouldn't consider himself a loser. he had a couple of friends. sure, he wasn't the most popular guy around, especially not with girls, but that didn't make him a loser. there was no reason to doubt his chances with one of the campus' most popular students, especially not when you made it so easy to like you.

too easy, jisung would think, clenching his pale, whitened knuckles into stiff fists when he saw other guys talking to you, checking you out from head to toe like you were a fresh slab of meat on display.

deep down inside, even if he refused to admit it to himself, jisung couldn't fault them like he wanted. your wit was admirable and your beauty rivaled that of goddesses. to say nothing of the fact that you were so amicable and approachable, maybe too approachable.

idiotically believing under the trance of your bewitching stare and enthralling smile that you reciprocated jisung's less than platonic feelings for you was his first mistake.

mustering the courage to approach you and ask you out was his second.

at the very least, you were sweet enough to let jisung down gently. even as you ripped his thudding heart out his chest and shredded it with bared teeth, unraveling the thread upon which his very world spun, your lips were fixed in a perfect smile as you apologetically told him that you didn't feel the same way, tenderly brushing your hand against his.

how kind of you to shatter his heart in the most beautiful way possible. you had to have done this a dozen times before, maybe even twice as much, so accustomed to rejecting every male's advance that you knew all the right words to say.

"you'll forget you ever felt this way," you'd told him at one point, most of your other words becoming white noise to his ears as indignation poked holes into his chest and swallowed him whole.

jisung liked to think that he handled the rejection fairly. outwardly, at least, it was true. you wouldn't have guessed from looking at him that the world as he knew it had been upturned and rage was festering in side of him quickly and brutally. he should've listened to his friends when they told him, dude, she's a maneater.

to think only days ago jisung thought so highly of you. now, whenever he saw you, only the most degrading of words came to mind. what a picky, arrogant whore, hissed his thoughts bitterly.

you must've thought you were so much better than him. you must've got a good laugh at his expense, leading him on and making him believe even for a minute that you liked him the way he liked you. or maybe you were just playing hard to get, so entitled that you thought he would chase you.

wrong. jisung was not like those other guys that would come begging at your feet and he refused to lower himself to such degradation, solely so that you could feel better about yourself.

it had to only have been a couple of weeks forward, jisung's anger intensifying by the day, when he heard those godawful noises coming from just around the corner.

he recognized that voice - your voice. jisung would never admit that he was obsessed with you, but there was no doubt in his mind that the high-pitched, agonized cry he heard came from between those glossy lips of yours.

naturally, it was jisung's first instinct to investigate, to wonder what was so terrible that you were shrieking so sharply. he became especially curious when the sound was cut off, suspicious sudden and abrupt, as if it had been muffled.

jisung tiptoed around the corner, quiet as to not disturb the scene unfolding just shy of him. although, given how busy the city was, bustling with everyday life, it would've been more difficult to hear him approaching.

jisung nearly gasped at what he saw, poking his head around the sturdy brick wall and spotting your frame caged behind jaemin's as your back was pinned harshly against a cold wall.

"shh, sweetheart." jaemin crooned, tone of voice cheating his violent hands. "wouldn't want anyone else to see you like this, now would you? imagine how hard it would be for you to have a good future if all anybody saw when they looked at you was this loose little pussy."

jisung wanted to say that that was already what people saw, but he held his tongue. he didn't want to risk making his presence known. one slightly wrong move, one bad step, and both of you would know that he was watching, lurking discreetly in the shadows.

shameless, jisung whispered in his brain, shaking his head as he kept his eyes locked on the incident in front of him. jaemin was forcing himself onto you in broad daylight, for fuck's sake. without a care in the world if anyone saw him.

even as people walked only mere feet away from the sight, burdened with the tasks of their own problems. people that wouldn't randomly think to check around an alleyway to see if there was a girl attempting to fight off her attacker.

your face was familiar, but hardly recognizable all at once. your usual heart-stopping smile was surely upturned into a piteous frown, though it was obscured from jisung's vision as jaemin smothered your screams with his palm. moisture stung your eyes, gathering at your lashes and dripping thickly down your tear-stained cheeks.

even with jaemin's palm pressed flat against your mouth, your whimpers still faintly traveled through the hot, stuffy air. you thrashed in his burly arms, struggling to wrest your way out, but jaemin kept you in place with his spare arm.

part of jisung was bristling with pain and seething with white-hot anger watching another guy touch in ways only he should've been able to, but he couldn't move and he definitely couldn't look away. your stiff nipples were exposed from where jaemin had yanked your shirt down, jisung arriving only moments to see how jaemin sucked at licked at the tender buds.

"i don't take no for an answer," jaemin whispered, stuffing you full of his thick, veiny cock. your pussy was sore from how vigorously he was using you, but nothing would stop jaemin from doing as he pleased if he wanted it enough.

jisung's cock twitched in his light sweatpants. he only wished he could've felt the way your cunt squeezed his cock for dear life, milking it for every last drop of cum like it did jaemin's. if only he would've had the courage to slam you against a wall and take what he wanted, show you who was in charge.

it kept him up sometimes fantasizing about how tight and wet you were as he fisted his own cock to ecstasy. the sight of jaemin abusing your poor little cunt was infuriating, but erotic. not taking out his cock and pumping in his hand took all of jisung's willpower.

watching how wide your gorgeous, fretful eyes were, how your chest heaved quicker and quicker, skipping breaths to get to the one that came after, jisung almost felt bad for you. he liked to think he would've been much more tender, had he gotten the opportunity, setting the mood and taking his time to please you.

until you broke his heart. now, whatever happened to you was out of his hands and jisung couldn't have cared less, ignoring the panic in your body language and obvious pain tensing your features.

jisung had the power to stop his friend if he really wanted, to intervene and save you from your troubles, and he most likely would've, had you not wounded him. but he remembered the gash still fresh on him, your smiles rubbing salt in the cut, and decided this was what you deserved. you'd get over it.

yeah, she'll forget she ever felt this way, jisung mimicked resentfully, those words burned onto his heart harshly. so in the end, against jisung's better judgment, he kept on walking.

#park jisung smut #tw: noncon #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #jisung smut #nct dream x reader #jisung x reader #nct jisung smut #revehae fantasies

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cry4mina · 29 days

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Take Me Back to Eden - Ascensionism (Part 4)

(Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Take Me Back to Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1

Take Me Back To Eden - Granite - Part 2

Take Me Back To Eden - Aqua Regia - Part 3

Word Count: 8.5k Angst/Angst/Smut Summary: Reader finds out the truth behind what Jihyo and Nayeon has been up to, she takes the steps to become more independent and heal her grief, only to fall back into old habits. TW: Betrayal, suggestive themes, lying, break ups, cheating, manipulative behavior, anxiety, top!reader x Bottom!nayeon, choking, degradation, truthfully its rough sex but anyways, let me know if I missed anything! A/N: After a reasonable amount of requests I decided to continue the series. I also decided to write smut for the first time. Thank you to @saiiidahyunee @neoplatinum and @miinatozakiii for the help/advice for this part! <3 (srsly, this wouldn't have happened without them)

“Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other?”

Pulse radiating in every cell of your body, waiting to see if there’s another text from Jihyo. Absolutely baffled as the lie shatters your consciousness, returning you to the jagged spiral you were still reeling from.

It was true. She did this to you. 3 years of deception and it was all happening right under your nose.

Knees buckling underneath you as you think back to the conversation you had in the kitchen the night prior.

The tears she shed, the way she spoke…the way she studied your face… She was acting through the whole thing and you believed her.

“Nothing has happened since, and nothing like this would ever happen again. I wanted to tell you but the person I was then and the person I am now are two completely different people. Even that version of myself would never dream of hurting you in such a way.”

Stomach churning at the words previously said, fighting back the hatred growing in you.

‘Please understand that I would do anything to remove this from my past…our past.”

Nauseously fighting the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, remembering how your skin felt against hers as you slept next to her the night prior and you cringe knowing it was all fake and you had fallen for it.

Nayeon’s phone vibrates in your hand again, revealing another text from the other responsible party.

“We can lay low for a little while and let it all simmer down, if that’s easier. But I don’t want to stop being with you.”

As you stare at the screen, truth reflects back onto your face, flashing through your memories with her. Decorating the house on the holidays, her meeting your parents, anniversaries, going out to dinner; Even the small touches to show affection that intertwined themselves into everyday life hardened your exterior as you built your walls back up brick by brick wondering how long they’ll hold up with the digital reinforcement you’ve stumbled upon.

The need for the truth pokes at your chest while opening the text thread between her and Jihyo.

———————————Yesterday 11:34 pm——————————

Jihyo: Y/n didn’t seem to believe me when we spoke, I hope she listens to you or we might have a problem. 11:34pm

Nayeon: We might have a problem then 11:35pm

Nayeon: I don’t know if her and I will make it thru this 11:35pm

Jihyo: Do what u can. We will just have to cover our asses if the company finds out we are sleeping together. 11:37pm

Nayeon: It seems like she can’t really make a decision. I put her to bed a little while ago because she was exhausted. 11:38pm

Nayeon: She did bring me dinner last night… 11:38pm

Nayeon: She actually just came to the living room and def only in underwear…I’ll update u in the morning. 11:40pm

Jihyo: Just because she’s the piece that’s keeping the public and our company from finding out doesn’t mean I want to hear stuff like that, Nayeon. 11:42pm

———————————Today 8:12 am——————————

Jihyo: Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other? 8:12am

Jihyo: We can lay low for a little while and let it all simmer down, if that’s easier. But I don’t want to stop being with you. 8:14am

Forgetting to blink as you’re reading the thread, in disbelief that you almost gave them the forgiveness they asked for. Caught between the smoke and mirrors, an illusion painted for the public eye to cover the secret that only they knew.

Screenshot clicks lightly as you send yourself the evidence and delete the pictures from the text thread as well as Nayeon’s phone. You wanted to be able to look back on this and remind yourself that she was responsible, and that you'd never give her another chance.

Sliding her phone into your pocket, you walk into the bedroom.

Nayeon is distracted in the bathroom preparing for your morning shower together. Hearing the door of the shower sliding open and the sound of the head sputtering to start. The clashing of the water hitting the tile mimics the storm you felt brewing up inside of you.

As your rage builds you quickly grab a backpack out of the closet, unintentionally knocking a tote bag down as you pull the straps. Trinkets of all kinds scatter across the floor, you flinch at the sound and look down at the mess before immediately unzipping the bag.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Nayeon yells from the bathroom, it's muffled by the foam of her toothpaste as you hear her spit into the sink.

Body tensing at the pet name, knowing the illusion of the past 3 years was uncomfortable and devastating.

“Yes. Just dropped something.” You shout back trying to hide the towering rage that is rocking against the winds of change your digital confirmation created.

“Okay, my love, I’ll be waiting for you in the shower.” She sings back trying to play cute with you.

You roll your eyes while shoving the bag full of everything you’d need for the next few days as quickly as possible. Clothes, charger, wallet, important documents, and your laptop.

Putting on the first pair of pants you see and not even bothering to change out of the oversized sweater you threw on to cover up while you had your morning coffee.

Quietly running to the dresser to grab some socks, your foot kicks some of the mess left on the floor. Sighing at the annoyance of it being in your way but it slows down enough to see what the contents were. Jewelry you’d never seen, love notes opened with a wax seal, and countless pictures of Jihyo and Nayeon together.

Frozen in fury as you take in what you’re unintentionally uncovering, a singular tear drenched in anguish falls - the tap on the photo echoing in your ears. Reaching your limit and the overflow of emotions are about to spill out of you in a slurry of misery and hatred.

Grabbing the specific Polaroid of them kissing, tucking it into your pocket with her phone and leaving everything else where it landed. Preparing for the confrontation, knowing she’ll probably try to cover it again. No more running from it and no more hiding from it, you had her cornered with the proof that she was a liar.

Hopping onto the counter in the bathroom, you waited for Nayeon to realize you’re there. The shower door is slightly open, she left it for your entrance. Opening her eyes momentarily to see you staring back at her, much like most mornings.

This morning was different though, after the fight you got into that spread out over a week and the information you got this morning; there was a thickness in the air that wasn’t just steam. Almost visible in how it intimately caressed your heart into a conflicted mess of emotions, waging wars inside your chest.

“Aren't you gonna join me? I’ve got a blank canvas for you if you’d like to make more art out of me.” She coyly says, winking at you.

Your cringe is covered by the steam coated glass, repulsed by the thought of this stranger touching you the way she used to. The trust was no longer there. Being past anger, past sadness, and clinging to the numbness so you could get through this conversation.

Trying to keep your brain on track when Nayeon steps out of the shower and walks towards you, seductively. A thin layer of sweat is starting to appear on your skin as she gets closer to you, you’re trying to talk yourself out of the thoughts of what would happen if you just showered with her and forgot what you found.

You can’t do that to yourself, you know that. You would never knowingly accept less than you deserve but your heart was fighting you with every step she took towards you.

She puts her wet hands on your thighs, allowing the material to cling to your skin, “why are you wearing these? Just so I can take them off?” Her pupils are wide as she fixates on your face watching you half glare back at her.

Swallowing as you try to keep yourself from shaking as the numbness wears off and turns to despair and then shifting erratically to pure anger and then back to despair again. The pattern is familiar, you’ve lived it before a few times. Trying your best to conceal the rapidly changing mood and keep a straight face.

It seems to go unnoticed as she parts your jean clad legs and slides her waist between them wrapping her arms around your neck. Shivering at the warmth of her skin against yours as her fingers lace through the hair on the back of your head, trying to get you to cave into her wants.

Your body is definitely reacting to her being this close to you the way it always did. The ache in your core screaming at the familiarity but your mind is repulsed. How many times had she done this with Jihyo?

Not pulling away, allowing her to set herself up, the same way she let you. Leaning into your ear, lips brushing against its shell as she whispers “I’d love to take this off, if you’ll let me.”

“Do you really think you deserve it after what you’ve done?” sternly leaves your mouth.

Clench her thighs as you speak, she loves when you talk to her that way. Not realizing that your voice is heavy with a different type of malice, not the usual light hearted mask you wear for her when she wants some roughness.

Hands come off your neck and slide under the sweater. She’s relieved you don’t have a bra on as she scratches harshly down your back, like she always did during sexually driven moments much like this one, in an attempt to rile you up more.

It works for a moment, you groan and chase after her lips as she teasingly pulls away from you. Challenging your power and being a brat, refusing what you were asking for to intentionally make things more heated. Two can play that game.

“Close your eyes and hold your hands out.” Softly spoken while only an inch away from her face. Her half lidded eyes looking up at you for a moment. The sparkle for you is still encapsulated in her big brown eyes.

Immediately listening, placing full trust in you. Removing her from between your legs, you guide her back and against the glass shower door. It rattles on impact as she leans against it, inciting a gasp from her.

Her hands are up and out, waiting for whatever you had in store for her. She’s smiling up at you, eyes closed, intrigued about what you’d place in her digits.

Reaching into your pocket and pulling out her phone and the picture. Looking at them one more time before placing them directly into her hands, almost as an offering, like it’s your ticket out of this mess you unknowingly found yourself in.

“You can open them now.” Tone leaving little to mystery as it sneers out of you.

Her brows furrow as she realizes something isn’t right. Nayeon opens her eyes and looks down at what you’ve placed in her hands. Confusion waves across her face until she sees the image of her and Jihyo kissing, staring back at her. Hearing the gasp leave her lips, a deep gust of air is still not enough for Nayeon as she almost starts to panic.

You’re out of the room in seconds, her quickly following behind you, she grabs onto the sweater leaving a wet handprint that matches the ones on your thighs.

“Please, let me explain!” she begs frantically and tugs on the sweater harder to try and get your attention while you’re gathering more necessities for your daily routines.

“Drop the act, Nayeon. I don’t want to hear anymore from you.” Your tone is growing more callous as time goes on. It roughens up the few soft spots she had even if it was entirely her fault you were going through this life changing event.

Her face shifts from worried to annoyed as you sprint around the room, not bothering to organize anything being placed into the backpack.

“And where are you going to go, huh?” she asks, tilting her head and dropping her arms to her side heavily, allowing her frustration to show for a split second before she remembers she’s still completely naked and dripping wet from the shower on the rug in your bedroom.

Taking a step forward to get in her face, you startle her, not expecting you, soft gentle y/n, to approach her in such a way. Leaning back when you stepped forward but not breaking eye contact. You watch her leg start to bounce as she gets more anxious realizing you were angry in a way she had never seen, fire behind your eyes noticeable as you adjust your stance to show her you weren’t backing down and you were no longer scared to lose her.

Movement feeling foreign to her as she’s unable to keep calm like the Nayeon you knew of. Backed into a corner and baring her teeth as you confront her about her wrong doings, is an attempt to control the situation and she was about to try an old tactic that had worked previous to this.

Playing with the belt loops on your jeans, she brings her voice back to the sweet one you used to know, “Are you just going to keep running away from me? Or can we talk this out? I thought we were okay. I thought we could get past this together” Retorting in a semi-cooled tone. Eyes watering again and the block of ice in your chest is trying to thaw in you as she leans in to put her satin lips on yours for a small second of contact before you avoid the affection, knowing you’d crumble at the act. Not allowing yourself to fall into her grasp again, knowing she was willing to hurt you in an incomprehensible way, and feel no guilt.

“That was before I saw those texts and before I found the bag of secret Jihyo shit in the closet, Nayeon!”

Looking down at the phone you handed her to read the message. The realization of what’s happening washes over her face, it couldn’t be played off as a misunderstanding anymore. She had been caught red handed and had to deal with the consequences.

Nayeon leaned in harder to her act of fake innocence, insinuating that you were in fact the big bad for violating her trust like she wasn’t the one who burnt yours to crisps and used the ashes as eyeshadow.

“Why did you go through my phone?” She crosses her arms, pushing her breasts together. She’s trying to distract you with multiple tactics but it wasn’t working, her act faltering when scrutinized. .

Extremely angry, your brain couldn’t see her as anything other than an enemy. “Is that really what you’re worried about right now? Our entire relationship was a false front for you and Jihyo and all you can do is try to flip it on me?! …Who made you like this?” harshly asking just trying to understand what she had to gain from hurting you in such a way.

“You don’t trust me?” Nayeon says sweetly, touching your torso again. Pulling away roughly, unable to believe it’s even a question she thought would be a good to say out loud, when you both knew what the answer was.

“You have been cheating on me for the entirety of our relationship and you have the audacity to ask if I trust you? Fuck you.I gave you the opportunity to be honest with me and you threw it right back in my fucking face, Nayeon!” laying into her, letting out every drop of anger she caused you through your teeth.

“3 years of what?! You completely ruined everything, our entire relationship was fake so you could fuck Jihyo without suspension! So absolutely not, I don’t trust you in any sense of the word.” voice starting to crack as you tear up, “and to think I was actually going to propose to you” letting the sadness of the future lost memories drain out of you onto the person who caused it all.

Speechless and not believing that the docile person who was head over heels for her could have such venom to spit. A new light is shining down on you as you display your livid behavior. Oddly, even more attracted to you than she already was, she was in a trance as she realized what you said.

“You were going to…propose?” Quietly said back to you. Her eyes are saddened as she starts to understand the weight of her choices and all the things that will never happen again between the two of you. The guilt cuts deep, creating a sharp sting in her chest as a heart string popped.

Rolling your eyes and open the drawer in the kitchen that normally is reserved for “junk” to pull out a little black box, slamming it on the counter. “I really wanted to…” allowing yourself to be vulnerable for a moment as she reaches out to open the jewelry box and sees the perfect ring.

The pear shaped diamond in the middle was huge, with little diamonds laid into a rose gold band. This is how she described her dream wedding ring to you on your 3rd date. You wrote it down in the notes of your phone for the moment you would need it, thinking she was the one.

Eyes matching the diamonds, sparking with light as they fill with tears. She never thought about how much you paid attention or how well you knew her. Too wrapped up in playing her role with both you and Jihyo to even think that you were set on her being the one you wanted to spend your life with.

“I need you to tell me how it started. I need to know why.” speaking cold heartedly, keeping the distance between the two of you.

“...It did start with a drunken night. That was true. I never tho-” She started as she lowered her eyes.

“Look at me when you’re talking.” deliberately call her out, rattling her a little bit, her face turns red, eye wide as she goes to speak again.

“I never thought that it would go this far with her. I really was genuinely upset when Jihyo told me what happened the first time. I didn’t remember anything at all and then she convinced me not to say anything and then we hung out a few days later and…it happened again but sober this time and it just never stopped. There was no emotion behind it for me, I swear. I love you, not her.”

A freight train crashes through you as you reel at the information hitting your ears.

“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to claim you love me when you’ve been living in a black light paradise with someone else this entire time.” hissing dispassionately to assert your words.

“But two things can be true at once, like you always say…” throwing back at you with a smirk knowing how much your own rhetoric being used on you makes you angry.

Aggressively grabbing your backpack again and heading towards the door again, once intimidating, now a way to safety as you jerk it open, feening for escape from the heavy atmosphere. Your steps are quick and precise as you make your exit.

“I made a mistake, y/n. She’s not you. She will never be you.” Almost shouted at you as one foot stepped over the threshold.

“You were the mistake and I hope your guilt drowns you.”

–

An anchor pulls your heart to the bottom of the ocean. You told Nayeon to drown but it was you who couldn’t swim. Pulling harshly at your arteries as you sludge towards your car, feeling as if you’re moving in slow motion just trying to escape the shark infested waters.

Remembering this same feeling from before, but this one was much more certain. With the evidence in front of you, the admission from both parties, and the way Nayeon spoke to you- there was no more safety in who she portrayed herself to be. The illusion has smashed into shards of false love, leaving you to pick up the pieces.

You drive to Momo’s house, not bothering to call before showing up, you don’t think you could speak anymore, your jaw is tense the entire way there to hold everything in.

Walking up to the door and hitting the door bell, the dogs bark to alert their owners. The locks click open and the door cracks open to reveal a surprised Momo.

“Y/n, what are you do-“ cutting her off as you collapse into her arms. You kept it together long enough to get to your best friend, but now the dam was broken and unable to contain the pure pain that was born from the cruelness Nayeon showed you.

Momo drags you into the house and sits you on the same couch you slept on days before, sitting next to you and trying to comfort you as you shake and sob, wrapping your arms around yourself trying to create a sense of safety for yourself that couldn’t be torn from you.

“Y/N, what happened?” Momo is so concerned with your inability to calm down, it’s starting to make her upset.

Dahyun walks into the room, hearing the commotion. The loudness of your sobs ringing in her ears with her heart sinking into her stomach as she sits on the other side of you, joining Momo’s effort to comfort you.

Shakily breathing as you try to regulate yourself yet again, this time it feels harder than the last because at least last time there was hope. You are only experiencing extreme sadness and betrayal, with a lot of anger mixed in it but there was no hope present.

Unaware of how long you’ve been crying as Dahyun gets up “I’ll go make up the guest bedroom.” Rubbing your back as she walks past you.

“Thank you,” you squeak out through your teeth, struggling to calm down.

Momo has a look on her face that could cut diamonds. Anger radiating off her cheeks as she grabs her phone, taps it a few times and brings it to her ear quickly, she stands and taps her foot waiting for the other person to answer.

Nayeon is heard on the other side, “is she with you?”

Momo’s face is repulsed by this considering the state of you in front of her but she answers the question anyway,

“Yes, what happened? She’s obviously not okay. Tell me what happened.” Momo’s arms are crossed, standing up she shifts her weight from one leg to the other.

“I don’t know, she just got upset and left”

“Nayeon, I have known you for years.You’re lying. Y/N wouldn’t just show up sobbing uncontrollably for no reason, so tell me what happened or I'm hanging up.” talking with her hands, raising them in a frustrated manner as the lies keep coming.

“Well if she didn’t want to hurt herself she should have gone through my phone.” annoyance present in Nayeon’s tone.

Momo looks over at you, devastated for the second time on her couch pulling your phone out in silence and showing her the text thread screenshots you had taken earlier.

“It’s not as big of a deal as it’s being made out to be.”

“Are you serious right now?” Momo harshly questions as Nayeon continues.

“Are you going to question Jihyo like you questioned me? Or are we just gonna pretend like she’s not part of this too?”

The sharpness in her tone was something you had witnessed before but the taste of her name coming out of Nayeon’s mouth was unbearable.

Momo gasps at the new knowledge that has now been thrown at her. Completely statuesque, as she tries to wrap her mind around what Nayeon just said.

Momo’s eyes look up on your screen to reveal the name at the top of the text thread: Jihyo

The rush of emotions she was experiencing was overwhelming to her senses, momo’s voice choked with tears as she spoke to Nayeon.

“Wait…what did you just say? J is Jihyo?!” Momo says in complete disbelief, shocked at not only what she’s reading on the screen but by what she was hearing from one of the parties involved.

“Yes. So please call and interrogate her. Can I speak with my girlfriend now?”

“No, you can’t. I am not friends with people who do this type of thing, Nayeon. How could you do this to y/n?” she shouts through the phone, hunched over with a hand on her knee, trying to understand all the pieces of this complicated puzzle.

Momo, trying to keep the anger she felt under wraps, started pacing in the room taking laps around the couch as she spoke.

“Nayeon…are you kidding me? How long has this been going on?” Confused was an understatement, Momo was completely overstimulated with the information she was being given.

Never noticing the connection between how close Jihyo and Nayeon were, always sharing hotel rooms on tour, finishing each other’s sentences, the looks across the room, Nayeon staying at Jihyo’s house frequently…it was all starting to add up and Momo is seeing red over the pain of her best friend being hurt beyond belief, and by someone who was supposed to be her family. She was just as angry as you were.

“Momo, I don’t want to do this right now, Can I please speak to Y/n? I’m trying to save my relationship and not be put under a microscope by you.”

“I can’t believe you would do this. You spoke of Y/n like she moved mountains for you and this is what you’ve been doing behind her back? I’m disgusted with you and your actions…and I’m pretty sure she’s your ex-girlfriend now but you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Momo hung up quickly, not caring about what Nayeon had to say back to her. More worried about you and your emotional state than anything Nayeon had to say.

“Did she tell you why or was it her avoiding the question?” inquiring as she took a seat next to you, giving an apologetic look and a bear hug to try to make you feel better.

“She told me enough for me to want to leave my home, technically she didn’t even tell me, I found a secret bag of Jihyo stuff in our closet with a bunch of pictures of them together, and one shot of them kissing, wax sealed love letters and jewelry.” Voice cracking and shaking as you bite back more emotion.

Momo gasps as the story unfolds before her, she can’t believe what she’s hearing. It is so polar opposite of what she expected of her members. She always thought they were kind and loving. She imagines what y/n might be feeling in all of this.

“I am so sorry. Please let me know how I can help you get through this.” reaching for you to pull you into a warm embrace.

“Well, I’m definitely going to need to find a new apartment so if you want to help me with that I’d be grateful.” half chuckling through some tears, trying to add a little light into the situation. You hated the idea of someone else being upset because of this situation.

“Consider it done” Dahyun walked back in with swollen eyes, sniffling. She probably overheard the argument Momo just had and was reflecting the same amount of empathy as Momo was.

“We can start tomorrow!”

—

About 3 weeks went by and you were slowly showing signs of your old self. You were going out with friends again, hanging out with Momo a lot, and starting to become present again, no longer constantly seeing the rewind of Nayeon’s innocence faltering behind your eyes. Still receiving texts from Nayeon at least 2 times a day. They served as a reminder of what once was.

Momo and Dahyun were patient with you, letting you speak with them about the effects this trauma was having on your mental health. It’s always hard to watch your loved ones go through something this difficult but it was obvious that they were proud of how you were handling it, even if it was hard. They were always there to remind you that you could do hard things.

Finding a 1 bedroom 1 bathroom that was close to Momo and Dahyun’s, signing the lease immediately. It was a slight upgrade to the studio that you and Nayeon occupied previously. The kitchen was bigger, the natural light was brighter, and the bathroom had a large bathtub that you could fully lay down in, which you were looking forward to.

Spending a week finding the perfect furniture for it, designing the interior however you wanted and making it your own space without someone else’s opinion in the back of your mind was fun. You enjoyed doing this for yourself, fixating on something that had to do with you alone. You felt the ashes from previous ruin sprouting stems as you tried to move on.

You had really been focusing on yourself, trying to resurrect yourself after total devastation. Pulling out the roots, and planting good ones so later on you could reap the benefits. Changing the perspective of your brain was hard, but well worth it.

Being in a better place mentally and emotionally as your sense of stability was so close to being present again, you thought it was time that you continue with the last step of separating from Nayeon.

There was still some stuff you wanted to get back at your old apartment but you didn’t want to run the risk of Nayeon being there. You had no desire to face her, especially while you were still mending. You decided to reach out to her to let her know you’d be coming by to get the rest of your things.

“Hey, I’m going to stop by today to get my stuff. I’d really like it if you weren’t there.“ You hesitate to hit send, not wanting to come off in a rude way. Quickly realizing how absurd that was and hit send.

“So now you reply? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks… are you doing okay?” almost immediately after the message was delivered, like she has been staring at the thread waiting for you to say something.

“That’s not your concern anymore. What is your schedule like this week? I won’t be long. I’d just like my things, thank you.” you replied with haste, just wanting this to be over.

“I’ve got something scheduled at 5 today. You can come then if you really don’t want to see me.”

You can hear the pout over the text message without any hint of it present in the text. This instinctually sparks sadness in you. Biting the inside of your lip and type out a few replies before deciding to just drop it. A wave of the past just flashed in front of you, causing you to fall into loneliness, something you’d fought to keep at bay.

Checking the clock and it’s already 3pm, you finish up what you’re doing in the living room and take a cold shower before setting out to the apartment one last time.

–

Stepping into the once familiar place, you are hit with the smell of vanilla and sandalwood. “That’s odd” thinking to yourself, wondering if she’s left a candle burning as you walk in, sliding your shoes off by the door. She always forgot to blow them out after lighting them or would fall asleep on the couch with one lit.

You were right, but with an added twist, the candle was burning in the center of the coffee table flickering against the shadows in the room around you. The flame was blocked out by the shadow of someone on the couch in the dimly lit space.

“I thought you had schedules.” sighing, irritate at being met with another moment of dishonesty.

“I just needed to talk to you…” she whispers, she had been crying. Hearing it in her voice and seeing it on her face as she turned her back to the candle, taking in your features like it was the first time she’d ever seen you. A tinge of hope runs through her, your face must be showing sympathy.

“I needed you to be faithful and that was too much for you so I don’t really want to do any conversing with you.” asserting that you’re completely vexed by her as you walk into the bedroom to gather the rest of the stuff you were taking with you.

Following you closely, a habit you used to think was cute as she watches you pick up small knick knacks from your childhood, clothes, and some other important tokens left behind. Sorting through every drawer to make sure you got everything, wanting this to be the last time you’re in the once shared life.

Almosting touching you with how close her proximity was, she wondered if you’d give her some of your time so she could plead for you to stay when you finally spoke up.

“Can you stop hovering so I can do what I need to and leave?”

“Can you just talk to me for a second?” Nayeon replied equally annoyed and choked up as she watched you tuck all she had left of you away.

Turning around to face her, “Fine! What do you want?”

You’ve never shown her such apathy, the emptiness that rings in your voice hollows her chest out as she takes a few steps forward, you are surprised by the sudden closeness when she leans in and kisses you roughly.

You gasp which leaves an opening for her to slide her tongue into your mouth, the neediness pouring out of her drenches you with adrenaline and you slowly succumb to her as she bites your lower lip and tugs gently. The world stops.

Every ounce of love you ever felt for this person came slithering back into your mind for a split second, followed by anger as you remind yourself of the betrayal.

You can’t believe she’s just throwing herself at you. Body reacting exactly how you would expect when your recent ex partner kisses you like this, the familiarity of her hands on your body sends jolts of comfort and excitement through you and you aren't strong enough to fight the primal urge.

Trailing her hand up your back under your sweater while keeping you distracted with her mouth and sinking her nails into your shoulders, dragging them slowly down your back, causing you to lean into the kiss even more, moaning into her mouth as she smiles.

Falling into the trap she was setting and you knew it.

Hands slowly find their place on her waist, she kisses your jaw whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

“Baby, please stay” she lays another kiss farther down your jaw

“I know you missed this” laying another kiss

“You are always so hungry for me…show me”

She ghosts her lips up and returns to yours as she kisses you passionately, revealing pure lust as she grips onto you. Bringing your hands up to cup her face, allowing yourself to get lost in the breathy haze, heart pounding as you feel your body temperature rise, effects of the love that once was and the lust that now is.

Spiraling in the dizzying moment,you and Nayeon sink into each other, closeness returning as you’re swept away by the intense feelings you’re both harboring. Hands are exploring as you fumble around, not allowing space between you as you both collapse onto the bed, hungirly taking each other in as you gain control, Nayeon is lost in the essence of you and it was your turn to hold the power.

In addition to getting on top of her, you place your knee between her legs- just enough out of reach so that she couldn’t get a good position on it. You were going to give her this moment to remember and you were going to make her earn it.

The heat emanates off her as you rip off your sweater tossing it aside. She’s looking up at you like you put the moon in the sky as you reach your arm around and unhook your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms slowly, her eyes wide with anticipation as you remove it, throwing it on top of the sweater.

Nayeon’s hands reach up, eyes darkened as she tries to touch you when you slam her hands back down into the softness of the sheets, pinning her to the mattress forcefully above her head, glaring into her with white hot anger.

“No,” as you hold her in place, your body pressed against hers, faces close enough to feel each other's quickened breath. Nayeon sees the flash of spite in your eyes as you press your mouth on hers, it makes her ache while she is refracting desperation, subtly grinding on your thigh as she lets your tongue dance with hers.

Pulling back from the kiss to admire the sight before you; Nayeon is anchored to the bed by your hands, whimpering and grinding on your leg practically begging for you to fuck her.

Faces return close enough for your lips to lightly graze, teasing her as you remind her where you stand, “Tell me… does Jihyo excite you like this or is this only for me?” with a sultry nuance. She squirms underneath you as you taunt her, her eyes flickering down to your thigh as she tries to grind into you to get some friction to satiate the ache you’re creating within her, only for you to pull your knee back just enough so she can’t reach it.

She whines “y/n…please, it’s only yo-” getting up before getting the full answer and dragging her legs to the edge of the bed letting them bend over the edge, pulling her shirt off frantically, exposing her tits.

The knot in her stomach tightens as she watches you become completely carnal, continuing toying with her. Lightly tracing her chest with your finger before you kissed her again, this time more aggressively as if you are claiming what had been yours. She groaned into it, always loving when you got like this, you’re ghosting your finger along the waistband of her sweats as you pull back from the kiss again and attacking her neck leaving a trail of dark marks down to her chest.

“She’ll have to admire my artwork for the next week and I hope she enjoys it” leaving bite marks and bruises as you descend down slowly.

You take one of her nipples into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it, you can hear her breathing hitch as you roughly pinch the other one. Without letting go of her bud between your fingers you detach your mouth and slide your other hand up to Nayeon’s throat, lightly squeeze and ask “Does Jihyo fuck you like the slut you are? Or does she leave you for me to ruin?”

Nayeon let out a wail as the words cascaded off your tongue, completely bewildered at what is happening right now as she feels the intoxication of your agitated demeanor wash over her while she grows impatient. Pushing back and trying to take the power from you when you mimic your prior movements and slam her down on the bed, letting her know that wasn’t going to happen.

“Don't. Move.” Stoically said while standing up, sliding her pants and underwear off to reveal a string of arousal clinging to the fabric and the soaked mess that she was. She was already clenching around nothing.

“Pathetic.” You smirk.

“Does she ever make you this wet?” as you part her lips with one hand, gathering her arousal at her entrance with your finger, and slowly bring it up to your mouth, sucking it clean. She rolls her hips up at the sensation, body screaming for more.

“I told you not to move.”

Nayeon whines loudly, “Please, Y/n…touch me” begging for some continuous form of contact and being sure not to move while your stand above her watching as tears well up in her eyes.

“...so needy… does she make you beg for it like this?” the words daunting as they snake out.

“You’re so good at lying, I’m sure she thinks you belong to her.”

“What was it that you said earlier?” following up slyly while lowering yourself between her legs, knees on the floor and arms are wrapped around her thighs, with hands planted on her hips keeping them in place.

“You’re always so hungry for me…” breathing out as you traces patterns on her lower stomach and bring your face closer to her pussy,

“…show me” she sighs out as you dive down into her folds, moaning intensely as you tangle yourself between her legs. She feels you devouring her sloppily, not leaving a single place unexplored as she tries to buck her hips into your mouth.

Nayeon is seeing stars as past experiences flood back into memory, senses heightened as you consume her more possessively than usual. She loves this version of you.

Hands holding onto her so tightly as you start sucking on her clit, she squirms under your grip, squealing at the erratic pattern traced with the tip of your tongue before giving her the rhythm she craved so desperately.

Nayeon’s breathing gets heavier as you stick to the pace you know she likes, building her up to where you wanted her. The moaning gets louder as you continue lapping at her, hands go up to your hair, locking you in place as you bring her as close to the edge as possible.

Hearing her high pitched whines and feeling her pussy clench around nothing, completely stopping everything that you are doing.

“Wha?!-..” she let out a groan that could’ve shattered windows as you stood before her, watching her react to the orgasm being ruined.

“Why would you do that?!” she groaned out, squeezing her legs together again. You lightly smack her thigh, telling her without words not to. The slap radiates through the room and leaves a small red hand print displayed.

Enjoying the blissful anguish on her face as you licked the evidence right off your mouth while removing your pants and underwear. Getting on the bed, straddling her, wetness visible as it drips off of you, she looked up at you with wanting eyes, hips still rutting, and knowing exactly where this was going.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily?” you start scooting up so that your knees are on either side of her head, a mere inch from her face.

“You’ll have to earn it.” Leaning forward and head between your legs, tongue out already anticipating the taste of you.

A gasp echoes in your chest as she licks the inside of your thighs, making sure not to waste a drop of you before taking one big slow lick up your slit, doing that several times, causing you to thrust into her more before attaching her lips to your clit and finding the rhythm she knew you wanted.

Drowning in her all over again as you feel the knot in your stomach stir, you need more from her but she wasn’t going to give you that right away.

“Naye- ..fuck, just like that -on” you whine her name, slowly start to fuck her face.

“More.” Demanding breathlessly, feeling your release building throughout your body, muscles tightening as she shakes her head no, trying not to remove her mouth from you.

“Nay-“ a guttural moan stops you mid sentence, knowing what she wanted from you.

“Baby…please, I need you” pleasure all consuming, you’re aching for her inside of you.

Before you can ask again, a long finger slides into your core and starts pumping forward to hit your g-spot a few times before adding another finger.

Another loud moan, as you steadily rock your hips against her mouth, building on the list you were already feeling. Close to breaking, you feel one of her hands slide up to your chest and start tugging on your nipple, that’s what sends you over the edge.

Throwing your head back as your breath quickens, grinding against her face, with a death grip on her hair. Shaking on top of her as your orgasm rips through you, she keeps going, letting you ride it out.

“Good girl,” you say breathly as you scoot back to straddle her hips again, body feeling like static as you come down.

Catching your breath while looking at her cum covered face, you know you aren’t finished with her just yet. Leaning up to you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing you. Tasting yourself on her as you pull her arms off of you.

“I missed the way you taste.” she cooed as you stood up again, half wobbling as you were still recovering.

“Didn’t I say not to move?” sternly rolls off your tongue, her eyes widen as you push her back down roughly and spit directly onto her pussy. Not that you needed the extra lube, you spread it around her entrance before slamming 2 fingers into her.

“Fuck, Y/n…” she moans as you pump your fingers quickly into her, feeling how wet she is from the orgasm you stole. She thrusts harshly, forcing your digits deeper into her.

“You don’t cum until I say you can.” growled at her from between her legs - peering up to see her face, eyes clamped shut as she leaked out onto the sheets - impatiently waiting for you to stimulate her in some way.

You can’t help but torture her a little.

“Does Jihyo make you wet like this? Or is she a shit replacement fuck when I’m not around”

She doesn’t even hear what you’re saying while she’s writhing underneath you, completely fucked out and trying to focus on not cumming while you’re toying with her. Your mouth finds its way to her clit causing a frantic moan to rip through her chest, hands pulling at the sheets as she holds everything back.

“Ca- can I cum please?” She screeches between moans, nodding your head back to her while keeping the same circular motions going with your tongue on her clit, picking up the pace of the fingers inside her as she screams out - back arching, body tense, and clenching down on your fingers as she cums, gushing all over your hand.

Trying to take a breath, she squeals because you never stop fucking her at a relentless pace; she’s immediately back to moaning your name.

“Baby, What are yo-” words cut off as she loudly moans, giving her a second to try and finish the sentence.

“Use your words” as you pick up the pace even more, holding her down onto the mattress with your left hand on her hip, pounding your fingers into her.

Unable to speak coherently, almost screaming as she tries to formulate sentences.

“You wanted to cum so bad, so give me another one.” Answering the question she couldn’t ask while snapping into her g-spot, bending down to put your lips on hers again, giving her a taste of herself as she moans into your mouth, unable to hold back from the feeling of being over-stimulated.

She feels the tension inside her forming again, threatening to burst at any moment when you lean over to ghost your lips over her ear.

“I bet Jihyo doesn’t make you cum like this.” Violent combustion dispels from her body as she tenses underneath you, screaming into your mouth and sinking her claws into your back while riding out her orgasm.

Both of you lay on the bed, attempting to catch your breath. She rolls over to you, and tries to curl up in your arms but you get up before she can get too comfortable.

“Baby, where are you going? Sleepily stated while staying on the bed.

Silence as you put your underwear back on.

“Hello?”

Silence as you slide your pants on

“…are you leaving?” She says in a sad tone, leaning up on her elbows, watching you put your shirt on and gather all the stuff you came to get.

“Yup.”

She is in complete disbelief as you walk out of the bedroom door, hearing you put your shoes on in the kitchen and then hearing the door open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?…what is that on your neck?” heard from the kitchen. Nayeon’s eyes widen as she realizes the time and the plans she made…with Jihyo.

“I don’t really think she will be much use to you tonight but you’re more than welcome to try.” You say condescendingly to Jihyo as she stares at you about to walk out.

“Oh, by the way” , turning your head to her as you open the door.

“I hope you like the way I taste. Enjoy.” smiling at her as you walk right out of the apartment. She stares at the front door in disbelief as she’s figuring out her next move, now in a similar position to where you were.

“Nayeon!” screamed loud enough for you to hear while you’re walking toward the elevator. Not even being able to help the smirk across your face knowing she’s about to get an earful. Laughing to yourself as you call the elevator.

Starting the ride home, you think about exactly what just happened. Unable to believe you allowed yourself to fuck Nayeon and act like that towards Jihyo. Thinking about it not with regret, but with a blend of malice and sadness. They were both important to you, previously but that’s reality anymore.

Looking into the rearview mirror at the complex behind you, almost a far-well glance for you as your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Pulling it out to see Jihyo’s name across the top and hit the end button, sending her straight to voicemail. She calls again, same response. The third time your phone vibrates, you answer it

“Can you stop calling me? I obviously don't want to talk to you.” sounding heavily annoyed.

“…Y/n?” A familiar softness rings on the other line as you look at the phone number that isn’t saved.

“Oh…uhm, sorry…I thought this was Jihyo. I don’t have this number saved in my phone…”

“That’s alright” a small chuckle follows, “It’s Mina.”

"Mina?"

---

Take me Back to Eden - The Summoning - Part 5

#twice nayeon #twice smut #twice imagines #twice x reader #nayeon x fem!reader #nayeon x reader #im nayeon #wlw #kpop x reader #twice fic #twice angst

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the-boy-meets-evil · 9 months

Text

some habits are hard to break | feat. jungkook

(where you know that jungkook is the last person you should keep running back to, but neither of you can seem to let the other go.)

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader genre: angst, smut, est. relationship rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~12.5k warnings: the relationship isn't healthy (but they're very human), miscommunications, misplaced hope, bad habits, unhealthy coping mechanisms, cheating (reader on unnamed boyfriend), mentions of past trauma (reader), mentions of therapy, mentions of mental health struggles (reader), explicit smut: unprotected sex (don't do this), fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), handjob, semi public sex (behind a closed door at a club), teasing, hair pulling, light choking, i think that's it but let me know if i missed anything

a/n: she is finally here! i did not expect this fic to take me this long, but here we are. thank you to one of my favorite humans @ugh-yoongi for reading this over and assuring me they weren't terrible, just human. this story feels personal to me so that was reassuring.

a/n 2: lauren has asked for a pt 2, so i’ll be writing that after i get through both my collabs due in august 💕 banner/divider credit: my bby @classicscreations who always comes through tagging: @pjmparadise @axialitae

Every single thought is the same. You know better than to send the text sitting on your phone. You know precisely why it’s wrong. You know that nothing is ever going to change.

Here’s the thing. You’re in a healthy, stable relationship with someone who’s good to you and for you. He’s honest and caring, funny and sweet. Despite all of your baggage, he never makes you feel less than, never makes you feel broken. This is the first time in your life that you’ve been able to lay all your shit on the table and have someone accept it unconditionally. And he always does what he says he’s going to. You’re never up waiting at 2 in the morning, wondering where he is because he hasn’t called or texted.

So, yeah, things with him are good, great even.

But…

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? As soon as there’s a but, it’s like you can’t see all of the good. It’s all just a placeholder before what may be the worst three-letter word in the English language. You wonder if it means there’s just something fundamentally wrong with you. Who looks for the “buts” of every situation? Why can’t you just appreciate all the truly wonderful things in your relationship?

Because you’ve had the one thing you’re missing. You know it exists and it’s hard to forget.

Your boyfriend is great, perfect, even, in almost every way that matters. It’s just, you’re not exactly…satisfied. And you know that you could guide him to be better for you in that way. He just seems a bit sensitive about it at times and you don’t want to make him feel less than since he never does that to you.

This is exactly why you’re staring at your phone. Paralyzed because you both want to send the text and know you really can’t. Your body remembers his, remembers the way the slightest touch sent your heart racing. You try to also remember every word he’s ever uttered to you, too, because he’s always been very clear about who he is.

It’s fucked up that you’re even considering it, beyond wrong that you typed those 5 words out in an empty conversation thread. (Even though you usually keep every conversation, you deleted this one after you got serious about your boyfriend. You say it’s to keep the temptation away, but really, how well is that working now?)

You: what are you up to?

Just like that, your need to fill your desires wins out against every other rational thought you have. Part of you hopes that he doesn’t respond. It’s been months since you last spoke and you know he’s got a short attention span. Maybe he’ll spare you having to make a final decision.

Jungkook: out getting some drinks with friends

He doesn’t. His answer comes in far quicker than you expect it to and you get that same feeling in your stomach. Like anticipation mixed with desire. You’re so fucked.

Jungkook: what are you up to?

Tomorrow you’ll look back and realize this is a chance to bow out, to realize that this is a mistake. That you hadn’t sealed your fate when you sent the first message. You could still just bow out and walk away, leave the message unanswered.

You don’t.

You: nothing, just at home alone Jungkook: what about the boyfriend? You: away for work

You know that you should feel bad now. A normal person might realize that this was destructive behavior, that you’re purposely sabotaging your own long-term happiness for instant gratification. At least, that’s what your therapist tells you.

Jungkook: I can be home in 15 minutes, I’m just around the corner

The message is really your last chance, whether you consciously think about it or not. There was no preamble with Jungkook. He assumes you’re texting him so you can come over. And he’s right, isn’t he? You weren’t exactly texting to catch up with someone you weren’t ever friends with anyway. No, you’re both adults and you know what this is. Just like you’ve always known.

You: give me 30 and I’ll be over

Was there really any other outcome? From the moment you opened Jungkook’s contact to start a text, this was the inevitable end. You can pretend that you have control and you were on the fence. But, you know the truth, and so does Jungkook. He knows it from the moment your name appears on his lock screen. This only ends one way, the same way it’s ended countless times before.

Thirty minutes later, after cleaning up and getting dressed, you stand on Jungkook’s doorstep. There’s a moment where you genuinely question if this is smart. Smart is the wrong word, you think. Of course, this is fucking stupid. You could ask 100 people and every single one of them would probably tell you to turn around. So no, this isn’t smart. The real question is if you’re going to do it anyway.

Jungkook opens the door before you even knock and the question dies. There he is, in baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt, like the true fuckboy you know he is, and your body remembers. It remembers every kiss, every touch, every tremble. It starts to react without your permission. By the smirk he’s wearing, you can tell Jungkook remembers too.

“Right on time,” he says, leaning against the door frame like he needs the support.

“Are we gonna have a whole conversation out here?” It’s a challenge and a mistake all rolled into one.

He doesn’t answer, just moves aside so that you can step past him. There’s a moment, as you’re stepping past him and glancing around his apartment, of nerves. Of wondering what the fuck is going on. But his apartment hasn’t changed, not that you expected it to, and neither has he.

“Want anything to drink?” he asks, moving around you to the kitchen. He looks back over his shoulder at you, a confident smirk on his lips. “We could do a couple shots.”

“Trying to get me drunk?” you wonder. Still, you follow him into the kitchen.

“No, definitely not.” His answer is swift and his eyes roam over you, appraising. “You just seem a little on edge.”

“Wonder why that is,” you huff out.

Jungkook leans back against the counter, eyes still trained on you. “If you don’t want to be here…”

“I didn’t say that either,” you respond.

There’s this weird tension settling between the two of you and you’re not really sure what to do about it. Not really sure how to get out of your head for even a second. That’s when you feel Jungkook’s hands on your hips, pulling you back against his body where he still leans against the counter.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he says and dips his head to kiss along your jawline.

“I don’t,” you respond.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers against your skin as he continues to kiss down your neck.

The only thing that comes out for a second is a hum when Jungkook lightly sucks at the base of your neck where it meets your collarbone. “No.”

“Are you sure?” He’s pulled back now and looking you directly in the eye.

You take a breath and then another when your heart starts to speed up. The only thoughts are of his lips on yours, his fingers grazing along your body. Slowly your fingers trail up his arms and he doesn’t move at all. Just watches you and waits for you to make your decision. Leaves it all up to you.

So you do the only thing you can, the only thing you were going to do once you sent that text. You let your fingers find purchase in his hair and you press your lips hard against his. He’s turning the two of you around in an instant so it’s you pressed into the counter. The kiss is hard and desperate, like you’ve both been starved and this is the only way to solve that. His hands feel like they’re everywhere and it’s still not enough, not completely what you need. Nobody has ever set your body on fire just from kissing the way Jungkook does. It’s bliss the way your brain goes almost silent except for thoughts of him. And you know he’s just as turned on, can feel it in the way he’s pressing against you.

Jungkook kisses down your neck again and you don’t even bother to hold back the moan. When you feel him lightly sucking into your skin before pulling away, part of you wishes he’d do it harder. Wishes he’d leave a mark. Wishes for something to show what you’re doing here tonight without you having to say it. He doesn’t, though, and you know he wouldn’t even if you asked.

Instead he pulls away, smirks at your whimper from the lack of contact, and reaches for the hem of your shirt. He’s still asking permission, so you give it. Your shirt and bra disappear in record time and his mouth is back on. Softly kissing down the space between your breasts and across the underside of one. It’s too much, the way he knows exactly what you need, the way his lip ring teases you as he moves across your skin, the way he stops to just look at you when he knows he’s driving you crazy.

Well, you think, two can play at that game. Before he even realizes what you’re doing, you’re spitting into your hand and reaching inside his sweats and boxers (since he’s annoyingly still clothed). You’re slowly dragging your hand along his length, moving painfully slowly. He groans when you slide your thumb over his tip and pulls back.

“Fuck,” he says and slowly pulls your hand out.

“What?” you ask, actually confused.

“Come on, I can’t fuck you against this counter but if we don’t get out of here, I’m gonna try,” he says and pulls you along into the bedroom.

Jungkook kisses you hard and lightly pushes you back onto the bed. You prop yourself up to watch him quickly undress. You love watching the way his muscles contract with each movement, love the lean lines of his body, absolutely love everything about him. If he sees you watching him, which you’re sure he does, he doesn’t say anything. Instead he leans over you, kisses you hard again as he pulls your pants and underwear off nearly in one motion.

“Eager,” you taunt.

“You won’t be saying that when you can’t walk tomorrow,” he says.

Before you can answer, Jungkook is flipping you over so that you’re on your hands and knees, pressing down on your back so your ass is in the air. You’re a little surprised, because usually he takes his time with you. Not that you’re complaining. He moves on the bed and then you hear a bottle opening seconds before you feel the cold liquid at your entrance. He may be a lot of things, but he always makes sure you’re taken care of.

Despite his words, he still slides into you slowly and lets you adjust to him. His hands grip your hips tightly as he rolls his hips into you almost carefully, like he’s not sure if you’re adjusted. It’s bordering on painful that he’s so still.

“Fuck Jungkook, move,” you whine.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Just fuck me, please fuck me,” you beg and you hear the low chuckle.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he says and snaps into you hard.

“Fuckkkkkk,” you draw out.

Removing one hand from your hip, he presses you back down into the mattress. You arch your back further so he has a better angle and let the pillow muffle your moans. It mixes with his own groans and the slap of his skin against yours every time he buries himself fully inside you. There’s something frantic about it and you’re sure this is what you’ve been missing. Sure this is what you need. He removes his hand from your hip again and roughly slaps your ass.

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you yell.

He slaps your other ass cheek and it makes you scream out again. Yes, this is what you need. Someone to be a little rougher with you. Someone who doesn’t treat you like you’re going to break or worry if you can take it because he knows. He knows exactly what you can take and exactly what you like. Him pulling on your hair is only further proof of that.

And then he’s pulling you to him, so that your back is against his chest. The new angle has him hitting deeper inside you, reaching that spot that nearly has you seeing stars. Jungkook moves his hand out of your hair around your neck, gripping lightly.

“Do you like that, baby?” he whispers roughly in your ear.

“Yes,” you moan out.

“Because I fuck you the best,” he continues.

“Jungkook, fuck, just fucking choke me, please,” you beg, unbothered by how much you’re begging him.

That doesn’t need any answer from him beyond his fingers tightening around your throat. It’s the perfect pressure too, just like every other time he’s choked you while fucking. It makes you feel a little lightheaded but also like everything feels that much more amplified. Every hard thrust into your cunt pushes you closer to the edge. Every breath sounds louder. Everything is just more.

He also knows your body to know when you’re close. You almost whine when he removes his hand from your throat because you felt like you were about to come. And then he rubs a thumb over your clit, continues to make sure you come first, like always.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you shout.

“Come on baby, I wanna feel you come,” he says into your ear.

It’s the only permission you need as you let go. Somewhere, in the haze of your high, you can tell that he’s coming too, that his release comes just after yours. It’s all you can do not to slump against his body, though. His arms are strong around you as he pulls out so that both of you can lay down on the bed.

A few minutes later, after he’s cleaned you both off and you’re lying together in bed, you wonder how you’re going to extract yourself. You’ve never really felt awkward around him, so you’re not really sure why you do now.

“I should be going,” you say and start to sit up.

Jungkook is quick to pull you back down. He meets your look of confusion with nothing but desire. You think, not for the first time, it’s the kind of look that you drown in. The kind of look that ruins you.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

“Home?” you offer.

“Why?” he fires back.

“I don’t know, Jungkook, we already fucked,” you say. Part of you is a little exasperated at having to spell it out.

“Do you really think I’m going to let you leave here when I haven’t even tasted you?” he asks.

Fuck.

(He follows through with exactly what he says. It’s slow and measured, like he wants to pull apart every thread you have one by one. Like he wants to ruin you for anyone that isn’t him. Like he doesn’t know he already has.

The lip ring is new since the last time you fucked him and you’re not sure if you’ll even be able to tell when he’s between your legs. Until you’re praising him so loudly you’re sure his neighbors must hear. Or maybe it’s just because he’s so good at getting you off. Even if tonight, he takes his time, brings you to the edge over and over before finally letting you slip over.

It’s the early hours of the morning by the time you’re both worn out. You offer to call a ride, only to have him insist you stay. It’s much too late to be going anywhere when he’d be worried if you were safe or not. So you stay and it’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in awhile.)

The wait is excruciating. Your boyfriend comes home tonight and it’s terrible timing, you know, but you also know that you have to tell him what happened. It isn’t fair to him to just go on without knowing. He’s one of the kindest people in the world, doesn’t deserve this. He’s not broken like you, something you’ve pointed out since the beginning. Maybe those intrusive thoughts were right and you just aren’t built for healthy relationships.

Although you haven’t told many of your friends what happened, you had to confide in a few. Each of them tells you that you shouldn’t tell him what happened. They say that it’s just one of those things where confessing might make you feel better, but it’ll only make him feel shitty. It’s hard to know how he’ll feel. Shitty is probably fair. But, you think they’re wrong about how you’ll feel. Getting this off your chest will just replace one weight with another. Wanting to come clean isn’t about clearing your own conscience. It’s about honesty and him having the ability to make an informed decision.

It actually goes far better than you thought, somehow. He’s hurt, how could he not be? Despite that, he’s calm in the conversation. Instead of breaking it off there and then, which is what you expect, he suggests taking a step back. It’ll allow the relationship to be less defined and maybe less serious. You can’t really believe it when he says that he’s there to work things out with you and give you the space to figure out what you need. It breaks your heart a little bit more, somehow, to see him so patient with you. You don’t deserve it.

Instead of seeing this as a failure, he wants you to see it for what he sees it as. This is just a slip, a step back. There’s been so much trauma in your life that it’s natural for you to have moments where you slip. He’s hurt, yes, he’ll admit that, but he’s not angry with you. At the end of the day, he genuinely cares for you and he’s willing to do whatever it is the both of you need in order to move forward. You both agree that therapy as a couple might be important. However, he insists that it can wait while you sort through how you’re feeling.

Overall, you think you feel okay about it. Things will look different with him for the time being, but you can actually see past this moment in time. That’s new for you. You’re feeling hopeful for the future and you even let yourself imagine a future with him in it. Maybe this isn’t the end of the world after all. Maybe this is just something you actually needed to close a chapter.

Weeks go by. Therapy is back to being once a week, sometimes twice when the sessions fit into your work schedule, and you do trust this therapist. Really, you do. She listens to everything you say and interjects in meaningful ways. It’s clear that she’s actually listening to you and giving you genuine feedback, rather than some previous therapists that only asked how something made you feel. Sitting in that office has forced you to face a lot of deep-seated issues, everything from your childhood to past relationships to the deepest recesses of your mind. Sometimes you don’t really want to relive those moments, but she’s always done a good job of explaining why you need to do the work.

But…

And there it is, again, that stupid three-letter word that brings everything to a screeching halt.

Despite all your therapist’s work, there’s a part of you that doesn’t see the future anymore. Therapy is wonderful and you’re actually really thankful you found this therapist. You’re sleeping better, you feel lighter, and the world doesn’t feel like it’s going to crush you every day. Maybe she’s a little too good at her job, though, because you’re wondering how to move forward. Your boyfriend is perfect…for someone. And you’re not sure anymore if that someone is you.

It’s been weeks and he’s still just content to take the backseat while you do whatever work you need to do. It’s stupid, you know it’s stupid, but you want him to fight for you. You want to see that he is actually upset over what happened with Jungkook. It’s not healthy, you know that and your therapist reminds you it’s not healthy. You’re doing everything you can to make your brain catch up that it’s not healthy. You can’t shake it, though. All the doubts and insecurities creep back in when he still doesn’t seem bothered.

So you do the only thing you can think of, the thing your therapist disagrees with. Well, disagrees with the reasoning, not with the idea itself. You break off the relationship. He tries to approach it in such a way that leaves the door open for you both to come back to it down the road. You don’t want loose ends, so you lie. It hurts to see his face crumble when you say you just don’t love him and he should find someone that does. It’s cruel. You hate yourself for doing it. But you think it’s easier this way. This is too comfortable and you don’t want to string him along.

Then, you make the second decision your therapist disagrees with and text Jungkook. After seeing she can’t make you see her perspective on the break-up, she suggests spending some time alone to learn more about yourself. That’s terrifying. If she could hear your thoughts, surely she would not suggest leaving you alone with them. They’re intrusive and self-sabotaging and just loud, so loud.

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook is happy to hear from you, happier still to know that you’re unattached again. Not that he minds being discreet, he’s happy to confine things to the four walls of his apartment. It’s just that he also likes to get you dressed up and go out. He’s always liked having someone pretty on his arm, even if he’s just at some local sports bar.

That’s not where you end up tonight, though. Your head is especially loud and you want some quiet. Need to get lost in something other than the potential mess you’re making of your life. When Jungkook suggests a club a friend of his owns, you say yes before he even finishes asking. The place is familiar to you and it’s perfect, in all its noise, low lighting, and crowded spaces. There’s no better way (at least as far as you know) of quieting your brain than going somewhere even louder.

It’s easy to get lost, several drinks in, as you press your back into Jungkook on the dance floor. The tight dress that seemed like such a good idea rides up your thighs now, with a little help from the light sheen of sweat covering your body and a little more help from Jungkook’s hands that grip you tightly.

Everything is familiar. You’ve been here before, to this exact club with Jungkook, more than once. And it’s the kind of easy you’re looking for now. As his hand inches further up your thigh, you press further back into him, looking to erase any space between the two of you. Tonight is just to forget and Jungkook is excellent at that.

Maybe if you were a little less drunk, you would stop his hand. You are in public, after all. As it is, you really don’t care. He likes to tease, gets off knowing someone may see, and you’re not in the mood to put a stop to it. Tonight, he seems even more daring than usual. He lets his thumb graze the thin layer of fabric at your core, likely feeling how much you want him. You shudder as his warm breath tickles your ear.

“There’s a storage closet in the back that might be unlocked,” he says, voice low with desire.

And that’s new because you’re certain that of all the times you’ve fucked Jungkook, none of them have been at the club. It’s been close, getting a little carried away under the table in one of the VIP booths, running his hand up your shirt on the dance floor, but you’ve never fucked him here. You’re also a little too tipsy to register that at the moment when all you want is him.

It’s too loud for you to answer him so you just squeeze his hand and nod. That’s all the permission he needs, anyway. Before you can give it a second thought, he’s pulling you off the dance floor and down a hallway. He looks around like he’s not completely sure where he’s going and then sees a door.

The door opens and you’re both in without another thought. Jungkook crowds your space, pressing you against the closed door and stealing your gasp with his lips on yours. Your hands find purchase in his slightly shaggy hair and one of his hands digs into your hip, holding you firmly in place. Like there’s anywhere else you would rather be in that moment.

From the moment his lips make contact with yours, you remember why you ignored your therapist and walked away from your relationship. It’s just a kiss, granted a pretty heated one, but still. It’s just a kiss and your whole body is alive in a way it hasn’t been since the last time you were with him. As he trails kisses across your jaw and down your neck, you can feel the heat he leaves behind with each touch.

Jungkook also never makes you feel self-conscious about the way your body responds to him. Not that your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend now, ever said anything about your moans, but he was also really quiet in bed. And you stopped reacting as much, because it wasn’t the best part of your relationship. Not that you want to be dwelling on that now. Not as Jungkook is working his way down your body, clearly just as turned on as you, eliciting soft moans as he goes.

When he drops to his knees in front of you, you think you may really be done for. He lifts one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder, your dress hiking up around your hips in the process. You lean back against the door for support as his tongue makes contact through the thin fabric. It’s another tease, a Jungkook specialty, and you find you don’t much care. Thankfully, he quickly moves the fabric to the side. The movements of his tongue, fast and slow and fast again, are perfect. Your brain goes blank, just the kind of blank you need. No thoughts except for his tongue on you and the bliss of it. Even the thud of the bass out in the club dulls to background noise. Every one of your senses is present in this moment in a way you haven’t been lately.

His movements quicken and you knot your hands in his hair both to find purchase and to let him know that you’re close. Not that it’s hard to tell by the increase in your moans. He knows what he’s doing and he knows that he’s got you on the edge. You want to tell him that you want to feel him inside you and can’t make yourself speak the words. A second later it doesn’t matter. He slides one finger in, then quickly adds another and your brain goes fuzzy.

He pushes you over the edge too fast, you want to savor more of this moment, more of him. You register that somewhere in your bliss coming down from the orgasm. You need more of him, more contact, more of whatever it is that makes your brain go quiet. You’re catching your breath and refocusing when you notice his pants down around his ankles. Did he get that hard just from getting you off? He’s already pulling a condom on and you’re almost relieved.

“You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” His confidence drips off of him when he’s like this and you wish you were the kind of girl who had something witty to say back. You wish, at least now, that he didn’t affect you like this.

Instead, all you do is shake your head at him. You don’t trust yourself to speak and he doesn’t seem to mind. In one movement, he puts his hands on the back of your thighs and picks you up, still keeping you pressed against the door. The next second, he’s slowly sliding into you, letting you adjust. It’s the only break he gives you before setting a fast pace. Your legs tighten around him and your nails dig into his back. You’re sure they would leave a mark if he didn’t have a shirt on. Part of you hopes maybe they still will.

One of the best parts about Jungkook is that he doesn’t ever need to ask what you want, he just seems to know. He knows what you like and when you want something faster like this or when to take his time. It’s like he’s mapped your body with the way he’s able to hit just the right spots in just the right way.

Your head rolls back against the door, eyes closed and brain numb. Even then, he manages to bring you back to him, kissing up your neck until you meet his lips. The kiss is messy, capturing each of your moans as they escape. Jungkook’s grip on your thighs is as strong as the pace he’s setting and it isn’t long before you’re falling over the edge again.

A pleasant daze settles over you as you do your best to look presentable so that you can leave the club. (You don’t succeed and you definitely look just fucked, but the club is in full swing and the only people who might be able to tell are the poor workers that have to stay sober).

“Do you want to come back to my apartment?” Jungkook asks the question, one hand gripping yours while the other pulls up Uber on his phone to order a ride home.

And it’s kind of funny, how he asks like he doesn’t know the answer. In the time you’ve known him, Jungkook has been a lot of things, but he’s always been confident above all else. So it catches you off guard that he asks.

“As long as it’s okay with you,” you say and he smiles that easy smile.

“Of course,” he says.

You can’t really place the feeling that settles over you at such a small exchange, everything is crowded with the lingering effects of alcohol and sex. But something feels different and you think you like it. Almost like a part of you is waking up.

The next few weeks pass in somewhat of a blur. You’re happier than you can remember feeling in a while, much more fulfilled in all aspects of your life. Despite some reservations that your therapist has, you agree to start seeing her every other week unless something changes. You’re hoping to drop it back down to once a month but understand her hesitance to make such a big change so quickly. It would be a shame to ruin all that forward progress, after all.

Most of your free time is spent with Jungkook, a fact that your best friends are quick to point out with some version of the same cautionary advice. They want you to be careful, want you to remember your history with him, don’t want you to get ahead of yourself. It seems like they just don’t understand. Yeah, you and Jungkook have been here before, multiple times, but this is different and they just haven’t seen that.

Every other time led up to this. It took a relationship falling apart for you to realize that none of the other times with Jungkook were failures, they were just your “right person, wrong time” moments. Now the timing is right for both of you.

You knock on the door to his apartment, surprise take out in one hand, realizing belatedly that maybe you should have given him a warning of some sort. What if he was busy or had already eaten?

“Oh hey, what a nice surprise,” Jungkook answers with a smile as he steps aside to let you in.

Suddenly, you feel kind of silly for the momentary worry that showing up like this would be too much. Jungkook seems like he meets you at each point, so this shouldn’t be any different. It also helps that you’ve known each other for years and you know the way to his heart (through his stomach with only his favorite foods).

The whole thing feels surprisingly normal in a way you weren’t expecting. Jungkook makes small talk as he gets plates from the kitchen and sets them down for you to eat. He offers you a drink from the fridge, gets one for himself, and it’s just…easy. The whole thing with him is easy and you’re so thankful that you took this chance. As it turns out, he’s exactly what you need. Maybe he’s even the reason your last relationship ended the way it did. Not that you would ever say that. For all his outward strength and his image, Jungkook can be surprisingly sensitive. The last thing you’d want would be him feeling responsible for causing other people pain.

You’re not really sure why you do it, but you mention that your friends have a lot of warnings about the relationship. In what should be typical Jungkook fashion, he brushes it, reassures you that you know what’s happening and that’s all that matters. It doesn’t matter what your friends think because you’re both happy and living in the moment. You smile at that. This is definitely the best kind of happy.

Once you’ve gotten plates of food, you settle down together and Jungkook pulls up Netflix. He’s got a whole list of movies and shows that you can pick from, all things he wants to see or thinks you’d like, he tells you. And that’s sweet, isn’t it? That he sees something on Netflix and saves it in case you want to watch it together. It makes your heart constrict a little bit. It doesn’t feel like something you do with someone who’s only casual. Surely his thinking about you, when you aren’t around, is a positive sign.

You sigh happily and let him decide what it is he wants to watch. Not that the two of you ever really finish anything. It’s the thought that counts though. And Jungkook seems to be thinking of you. For a second you wonder if this is just the list he’s created for anyone he has over, you haven’t talked about seeing other people. Until you realize that most of them are thrillers. It’s your favorite genre but probably not good for generally inviting girls over. You really need to stop second-guessing everything with him.

Another few weeks go by as easily as breathing and that small part of you that’s waiting for the other shoe to drop gets even quieter. You’re not even thinking that this feels different anymore because it is different. Instead of late-night (or really any odd hour of the day) texts, you’re making actual plans on when you’re going to see each other. It doesn’t feel like a fuck buddy, it feels like someone you’re moving along with in a different way. There’s a lightness to every space of your life now, a lightness that looks a lot like Jungkook.

Of all the things Jungkook is good at, and there’s a lot, because he’s hyper-competitive and doesn’t like losing, cooking is decidedly not one. That suits you just fine, though. Cooking is an absolute favorite of yours and cooking for someone you care about makes it all that much better. It had taken a little more convincing for Jungkook agree to you coming over and cook for him, he didn’t want to be a bother, but you were glad to be here now.

“I know this isn’t really what we do, but I have a family wedding to go to, for my cousin, and I was wondering if you’d come with me? It’s kind of last minute, I know. I just wasn’t expecting to have to go alone,” you say and Jungkook puts down his fork. You’re nervous again and you’re not quite sure why.

“Sure, why not?” Jungkook says easily.

“Really?” The question is out before you can stop it.

“I like spending time with you,” Jungkook says, “we have fun.”

“We do, yeah,” you agree. “It’s just…it’s like 2 hours away, so I got a room. And you’d obviously need a suit.”

“This may come as a surprise, but I have been to a wedding or two before, so I have plenty of suits. And what kind of idiot would I be to turn down an overnight date with you?” Jungkook is smiling as he says this and it puts you at ease.

“It’s in 2 weeks, which is really soon,” you say. Jungkook pulls out his phone.

“Friday or Saturday wedding?” He’s looking through his calendar to see what he’s got going on.

“Saturday,” you say and he puts his phone down.

“That’s fine, I’ve got something going on Friday, but Saturday and Sunday are all yours,” Jungkook says.

Easy. Everything is just easy. You weren’t even really thinking of asking him to come to the wedding when you decided to cook for him. It just seemed like the right timing to ask and your cousin had just texted you that afternoon asking if she should change the seating chart. Although she said it wasn’t a big deal, you know she’s secretly going to be relieved to not change anything.

Not planning things also really is your motto these days. You weren’t planning to stay over at Jungkook’s when you offered to cook. Yet you wake up in his bed the next morning all the same, like it was a foregone conclusion the second you stepped over the threshold.

You figure now that Jungkook is coming with you to a family wedding as your date, that your friends will get off of your back about him. And most of them do. It’s been over two months of seeing him, which makes it feel more stable. Mostly, they’re happy if you’re happy and know you’re enough of an adult to handle your own life. Most days, at least. It’s just one of your closest friends that’s holding out. Not that he doesn’t like Jungkook, because he does, he’s just also been friends with you since you were kids and he’s seen how this has gone.

“It’s different, Jimin,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Have you had The Talk?” He doesn’t put quotes around it, but you can hear them in his tone anyway.

“No, we haven’t had The Talk,” you say, matching his tone. “We’re both adults, like actual adults, I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“This time around with him started with you cheating on your ex,” Jimin says in a not-so-subtle reminder. If it were anyone else, you would leave.

“Thanks, I remember,” you bite back.

“I love you, you know that. I just want to make absolutely sure you’re not going to get hurt with this. I need to know he’s in this as much as you are,” Jimin says.

“Can you ever really know that?” The question seems valid enough.

“No, everything in relationships is a calculated risk. But it’s on you to make sure you have all the numbers before doing the calculations,” Jimin says.

“Meaning?” You think you know what he means, but it’s best to be sure.

“Meaning,” Jimin says with faux exasperation, “that the talk will let you know where he stands and allow you to be on the same page. He could lie, but then that’s on him if you get hurt. If you get hurt now, when you haven’t had the talk, that’s on you.”

“Little harsh, Jiminie,” you say, using the nickname to try and soften him.

It doesn’t work and he just shrugs. “We’ve done this song and dance a few times, maybe too many times. I just don’t want to see this end badly.”

“Then have a little faith, he is coming to a family wedding,” you say.

“And some of the way the conversation went makes me a little uneasy,” Jimin admits.

“Just have some faith. This time is different, I can feel it,” you say.

There’s a lot more than Jimin wants to say, a lot more he wants you to hear. But he’s also known you for years and seen you through every one of the Jungkook phases. People change all the time, he knows that. As people grow, the things they want or need evolve. Until you have an actual chat with him, though, Jimin is not ready to say this time will be different. It’s silly because he also knows that you’re going to do what you want, you always have. Not in a bad way, you’re just very stubborn when it comes to listening to advice. All he can do is hope for the best and be there if you need a shoulder. He tries not to think when you need a shoulder. As much as he likes being right, he likes you a whole lot more and he wants this to work.

The wedding goes well, great even. Jungkook is a hot topic of conversation, with a number of your family members gushing over how attractive he is and how good you look together. It gives you a small amount of pride to hear it too, even if it shouldn’t. It’s also good to have someone to retreat to when your family gets overwhelming. The added benefit of them not knowing him is that you both can slip out of conversations much easier. He’s never met anyone in your family and they don’t have as many questions for him. You also did an excellent job of establishing that you and him are very early on in the relationship, so questions about getting more serious are off the table.

Staying in a hotel with Jungkook is also a much better experience than you thought. You’ve stayed at each other’s places countless times over the years, but you’ve never gone away somewhere together. Even though it’s only a few hours from home, everything feels different. Everything feels more intimate. And there’s something to be said for hotel sex too. Everything is new and more exciting.

You reach out to Jimin the day after you get back to let him know how things went. And you’re a little surprised by his response. Instead of being excited for you that it’s going so well, he asks again if you’ve talked to Jungkook about where you are and where you’re going. It’s kind of a buzzkill and you’re quick to tell him so. But Jimin is stubborn too.

Jimin: I love you, you’re my best friend in the entire world, but I’m scared you’re going to end up hurt Jimin: I’ll be here to celebrate once you talk to him and I’ll say sorry when it’s all cleared up, but until then, I can’t fully support it

That hurts. It’s like he doesn’t realize that in not wanting Jungkook to hurt you, he’s hurting you instead. You shake that thought off as quickly as it comes, though. It’s not his intention to hurt you and somewhere deep down, you know he’s making sense. Jimin has been your go-to person for everything in your life since a matter of months into the friendship. The two of you were able to click in a way you haven’t really experienced with anyone else. So yeah, maybe, on some level, you get where he’s coming from and maybe you’ll understand later. Not right now, though. Right now you’re just hurt and a little angry at your best friend for not supporting you the way you want him to.

(Jimin, to his credit, does think he’s supporting you. It may not be in the way you want him to and you may not see it, but it’s the way he needs to support you. There’s a moment where he thinks that he’s the friend you deserve, just not the one you need right now. So he’ll let you be mad at him as long as you need to. Or maybe he’s been watching Dark Knight too much lately.)

This is where you know you’re not always the best at being an adult. Whether Jimin is right or not becomes irrelevant because you’re more concerned with not letting him win. It’s like he tells you something and you have to do the opposite, just because. Which, really, that’s probably something you need to address in therapy. It’s probably not a healthy approach, but it’s where you’re at for now.

Things feel…a little different. Not good different, either. At first, you were positive that it was just the lingering effects of Jimin being Jimin. Even when he’s not speaking to you, since this is not the first time he’s done this, he’s very loud. But days go by and the pit in your stomach only gets deeper. You can’t separate your own thoughts and anxieties to see if anything with Jungkook is actually different.

When you stop to think about it, though, everything with Jungkook should be different. It’s been around three months now. Three months of you spending a truly absurd amount of time together. Three months of movie nights in, dinners out, random trips to the park. Three months of ending up in each other’s bed every time you went over. Three months of you not seeing anyone else. Was he seeing other people, though? Surely not. Would there really even be time?

But…

That nasty word coming up to haunt you again. But, could you really make any assumptions where another person was involved? After all, your ex had no reason to think anything was wrong with you, no reason to think the relationship was coming to a screeching halt. Yet, it did. It did because you stopped talking to him. Well, you didn’t stop talking to him, you said a lot of words. You just didn’t say any of the ones that actually mattered.

It’s impossible to keep the last conversation with Jimin off your mind. You will never tell him he was right, but you’re also constantly wondering if it’s time for that talk. Lately it’s been taking Jungkook longer to do everything. Longer to text you back, longer in between seeing each other, longer to come out of his phone if he checks it while you’re hanging out (something he never used to do).

And, okay, from the outside, you know how any of those things look. It’s just, you’re still really happy and you’re not really looking to give that up. You think that maybe what’s best, for now, is just to take a slight step back, not be the one to reach out to him and make plans. Either he’ll make plans with you or you will have the final push to have a conversation you should have had weeks ago. (Really, you should’ve had this conversation before you blew up your life, but who’s counting?)

Jungkook: hey, things have been kinda crazy with work, but can i see you tonight?

Which answers that, doesn’t it? You ignore your smarter thoughts, most of which are driven by Jimin’s words playing on repeat, and answer quicker than you should. Even though you offer to stop on your way to pick food up, Jungkook says he’s already picking something up and to just meet him at the apartment.

It’s all different now. Before, when things were only happy, you’d be excited that he knew you well enough to pick up takeaway for the both of you. Now, you wonder if he really has been busy with work. There’s something about the text that implies something’s shifted. You hate it and you want to just go back to before. Maybe tonight will be the perfect chance for that.

It’s not.

The silences are awkward and what’s worse is that you can’t tell if Jungkook feels awkward about it as well, or if it’s just you. Actually, what’s worse is you don’t know which you’d prefer. Then there’s this weird space between you while you’re watching a movie. It’s like you’re not really close enough to cuddle and you’re not really far enough away for it to be a normal, friend-sized space between you. It’s just this awkward limbo and you’re trying really hard not to overthink the space being a metaphor for where the two of you are in this weird relationship.

Jungkook is on his phone a lot throughout the movie too, which only worsens the way you feel. He says he’s still got a lot going on at work, that they’re in very real danger of missing deadlines and he’s so sorry. The rational part of you really wants to let it be that. The louder part of you, the one you know is irrational, can’t leave it alone. At least internally. You know you can’t say anything out loud and have it come across right. Your internal monologue is another story, though.

But, that’s the thing, isn’t it? You made a lot of assumptions about where you were with Jungkook, about what the two of you were doing, about it being a relationship. The reality is you’ve been fucking regularly for months now and haven’t bothered to define things. It was perfect at the beginning, when Jungkook insisted that the two of you knew what was happening and what other people thought didn’t matter. It made you feel like it was you against everyone else. Which should’ve been a clue. A relationship should never put you against the people outside of it. A healthy relationship should be able to integrate into your regular life.

You don’t stay over at his place that night. Jungkook offers and even makes it seem like he wants you to. You might even believe him if he didn’t mention getting up early for work and checking his phone. That annoying voice in the back of your head is shouting danger, danger, danger. The ugly thoughts wonder if he actually wants you to stay at all or if he just doesn’t want to be the bad guy for sending you home.

He gives you a kiss in the doorway and you’re on your way out. The last little bit of positivity in the back of your mind is hoping he’ll change his mind, that he’ll come rushing out and say he’s been stupid. Of course he wants you to stay and of course it’s worth it being tired at work tomorrow because he’s missed you, things have been off, and he wants to make sure he fixes them.

But, he doesn’t do any of those things. The doubts firmly take hold of your brain.

The next day, you’re still thinking over what you want to do when you get an unexpected text from him. He’s got a function after work, the kind of thing where you have to go to a bar and pretend you want to be socializing with coworkers off the clock, but it’s okay because the boss usually buys a few rounds. It’s the kind of thing someone might ask their partner to come to, so they’re not so bored.

Jungkook’s message is clear. He wants to see you. After he’s done with the work function, which he warns might not be until later. So he understands if it’s too late for you to come over since it is still during the week and you have to work tomorrow. He seems genuinely excited when you say you’ll definitely still come over and your heart constricts for a second.

You need to set your phone aside, just for a second, just long enough to let your heart settle back down, because you’ve made up your mind. It’s time (past time, honestly) that you have a real conversation with Jungkook. This last exchange proves it. You’re back to being the girl he calls up after a night out at the bar, the booty call for sex. Admittedly, it is the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s not the point. For a bit, you were the girl that he made plans with. And, yeah, he’s asking you before he goes to the bar if you’ll be there after. But, the fact is, it’s still same day and it’s not really anything more than a hook-up text.

The text from Jungkook letting you know he’s heading home comes and you take a couple shots to give yourself the confidence to go through with The Talk. You weren’t planning on driving anyway. No matter how this goes, you’re not planning to head home afterwards so having your car seems more inconvenient than anything.

Apparently, Jungkook only beats you there by a few minutes, which might’ve bothered you in any other situation. The way he says it sounds accusatory in your mind. All you can see now is talking before you lose the little bit of liquid courage you have.

“Do you want to watch a movie or do you just want to…” Jungkook asks, trailing off suggestively.

That pit in the bottom of your stomach worsens. The unfinished question hangs between you like a glaring sign saying he just wants to fuck you. It all just feels really cheap and like another waste of your time. Just another in a long line of mistakes. Only one way to find out, though, and so you take a deep breath and dive in.

“Actually, I kind of wanted to talk to you,” you say and that brings him up short.

“About what?” Jungkook asks.

He seems defensive. It’s all wrong. Something in you had been holding out hope that this would go exactly the way you wanted it to. That hope gets harder to hold onto.

“Just…this, us,” you say, hating how you sound so unsure.

“Us?” Jungkook asks and somehow that makes you angrier. Is he being fucking stupid on purpose?

“Yeah, Jungkook, us,” you say with more bite than you intended. “We’ve been doing this dance for, what, like 3 or 4 months? What are we doing, exactly?”

Jungkook’s confused. He gets this look on his face sometimes, like he’s trying to work out a really complex calculus problem and just can’t make things make sense. It makes him look younger, more innocent. It makes you want to protect him. But you can’t afford to think that way, and he doesn’t need to be protected.

“We’re just, I don’t know, we’re hanging out. We’ve been having fun, you know, everything is just easy, which is nice,” Jungkook says.

“Just hanging out and having fun? What, are we back in college?” Your voice raises an octave because, despite all your planning, you really aren’t ready for this.

“I’m not really sure what’s happening here,” Jungkook admits.

“I’m just confused,” you admit in return. “Like we’re always together, we go out on dates. You came with me to a family wedding for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, because I like hanging out with you and the wedding seemed important to you,” Jungkook says.

“It was important but still, what is this?”

Jungkook really still looks helpless and you’re constantly reminding yourself not to take care of him. It’s not what either of you needs. “Why does it have to be something defined? Why does there have to be this big deal?”

“Because we’re grown now, because I can’t keep blowing up my life for…” you start, but cut yourself off, quickly closing your mouth again.

“No, blowing your life up for what? For me?” Jungkook asks and you look away, unable to see him looking at you like that. “I never asked you to blow up your life for me.”

“You didn’t exactly turn me away that night either. You knew I was in a relationship,” you say and he scoffs.

“Yeah, I did know. But last time I checked, it’s not my responsibility to make sure you don’t cheat on your partner. I wasn’t the one in a relationship,” Jungkook says.

“No, because you’re never in a relationship, you’re always just having fun,” you say, voice dripping with disdain.

“And what’s so wrong with that? I’ve never been anything but honest about exactly who I am and what I want,” Jungkook says.

“People change all the time! Excuse me for thinking you’d grow the fuck up and realize actually being with someone isn’t that bad,” you say and Jungkook rolls his eyes again.

“What do you think I’ve been doing? I know being with someone isn’t bad. We’ve been having a great time for months until whatever the fuck this is,” Jungkook says.

“And how many other girls have you been having a good time with at the same time?” The question is out before you can even figure out if you want to ask it.

Opposite you, Jungkook rolls his lips together, like he’s trying to give himself a minute before answering. He can have a short temper at times.

“I’m not really sure why the answer to that question matters,” Jungkook says and you shake your head.

“I should’ve known,” you say.

“None though, for the record. Like I told you, I’ve been busy at work. So, I’m either there, working out, playing video games, or with you,” he says and you come up short.

“What?”

“Don’t take that the wrong way,” Jungkook says quickly. “I haven’t fucked anyone else in months, and I haven’t wanted to either. I’ve been having a great time with you. But, that also doesn’t mean this is something more than it is.”

“Meaning?” The balloon of hope pops just as quickly as it formed and you’re feeling even worse than before.

“Meaning,” Jungkook starts. “I don’t want…this. I don’t want to be fighting with you about some bullshit definition of what we are or where we’re headed. I like you, I do. But my answers to those still haven’t changed from the first time we hooked up 7 years ago. I don’t want that super committed relationship with expectations and check-ins and eventually marriage. I don’t want a house and kids and a white picket fence so the dog doesn’t get out.”

“You make it sound like a death sentence,” you say, completely deflated.

“I don’t mean to, it’s just not for me. It’s not what I’ve ever wanted and I’ve never kept that a secret,” Jungkook says. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe it is like a death sentence for me.”

“It feels like a slap in the face,” you admit and Jungkook bristles at that.

“Why? Because I don’t want the same things as you?”

You struggle to find the right words because that’s not what you meant. “Because you must have known it’s what I wanted and yet we still kept going.”

“I guess I figured you heard me when I said, over and over again, that it wasn’t what I wanted,” Jungkook says. “I figured you heard me and you could make your decisions on what you wanted.”

“It just seemed like…” you start and frown. “We’re always together, it felt like more.”

“So you just assumed that it was something more without even asking me about it?” Jungkook asks and gets a glare in response.

“Okay, that’s a little extreme,” you say.

“Is it? I can see it. You’re mad at me, which I get, kind of,” Jungkook admits. “But also, I don’t get it? Because none of this had to happen. If you’d talked to me instead of building it all up in your head…”

“Wow, that was kind of a dick move,” you retort and he shakes his head.

“Or is it a dick move to create a whole relationship in your head and then make me the bad guy for not being on the same page?”

That brings you up short again. Does he have a point? Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?

“I do actually care about you,” Jungkook says. “I know that may be hard to believe, but I do. It’s also really fucked up to create a whole world in your head and then turn me into the bad guy for not being on the same page. I always said we were having fun, that it didn’t matter what friends thought, that we’re just going a day at a time.”

“Because you knew, Jungkook, you had to,” you say. He furrows his eyebrows at you. “You’ve always said things like that and for what? What reason do you have to constantly remind me what this is if you don’t think there’s confusion?”

“Once again, it is not my job to force a conversation you may want to have. Weren’t you just saying we’re not still in college? That goes both ways,” Jungkook says.

Round and round and round in circles you and Jungkook go. You’re mad at him for something that he may not even be able to control, something that you’ve always known about him. And you’re mad that he’s known you probably weren’t on the same page for a while. He’s mad that you’ve had so many of these conversations in your head or with friends without cluing him in. He’s mad that he feels like the bad guy.

The whole fight feels pointless, honestly. You both are mad at the other and maybe you both have a reason to be annoyed. Maybe he has a point and maybe you need to take a step back to examine some of the decisions that you’ve made too. Maybe he’s not the only one bringing this house of cards crashing to the floor.

And maybe that’s not something you want to deal with tonight.

The rational part of your brain knows you should leave and call an Uber straight to Jimin’s apartment. That same part knows that even if he has someone over, he’ll drop everything to make sure you’re okay. He won’t even start the I told you so until tomorrow. Because Jimin can be a giant pain in the ass when he wants to, but he’s got the biggest heart in the world. Going to Jimin’s is absolutely the right decision.

That’s why you call an Uber and head to the bar.

After a few drinks, the empty seat next to you is taken by a stranger with fluffy hair and an easy smile. Despite your protests, he takes over your tab so that you can keep drinking. It’s a bad idea, you know it’s a bad idea, and you don’t really care. You don’t really have any room for good ideas right now.

For his part, he actually seems like a decent guy, if you were sober and present enough to notice. He tells you his name, his job, about his friends. You think he even mentions movies he likes. Nothing about it feels like the normal situation at a bar. Then again, it’s a Wednesday night, not exactly prime time to be out picking someone up.

The next morning, you wake up in a too bright room in an unfamiliar bed and immediately start piecing things together. The conversation with Jungkook and your subsequent decision to get completely shit-faced come rushing back. A sense of shame washes over you. This is the part where some attractive guy, usually one you somehow know, walks into the bedroom, maybe wearing just a towel, and you realize what you did.

Except this isn’t a movie, thankfully, and somehow you’re actually clothed in the bed. You’re in an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts, but you also still have your bra and underwear on. Likely a sign that nothing happened beyond you getting embarrassingly drunk last night. Actually, looking around the room, it looks more like a guest bedroom than the master. Did you actually manage to find a decent guy when you were hellbent on making bad decisions?

You aren’t really in the mood to figure any of it out. Your clothes are folded up beside the bed and, when you get up, you hear the shower running. It’s the perfect time to leave without having to have an awkward conversation. And since you were at your quota for those, you grab your phone from beside the table and slip out, thankfully unseen.

First up, your text thread with Jimin. Which is a mistake, of course you had texted him and of course it was barely coherent. But bless Jimin, honestly, because you see he had taken care of calling you out of work. Actually, bless him for having all your passwords and being able to sign into your email to send the message. You know part of him calling you out is also so that he can carry out his Jimin-approved therapy, but you’ll take it. You’ll even take him telling you he was right.

In a slightly uncharacteristic move, Jimin is waiting outside your door when the Uber drops you off. He’s already been shopping for the essentials and he’s got his arms open for you to collapse into him before even crossing the threshold into the apartment. There’s nothing on his face except for care and concern, which really isn’t surprising. His beating you to your own apartment may be surprising, but him being the best friend you’ve ever had isn’t.

Everything kind of pours out of you at once when you and Jimin sit down on your couch, the tears, the self-loathing, the anger, the confusion, the pain. So much pain. Pain over your ex, pain over Jungkook, pain over past shit that you really thought you were over. It’s like the past months with Jungkook were just a bandaid, putting off the day you would eventually feel everything. There’s no putting it off anymore though. Now you’re in it and you’re so thankful for a friend like Jimin to hold your hand.

He’s surprisingly quiet throughout the whole thing. He listens to your thoughts, comforts you during the gaps in speaking, makes sure you have snacks and something to drink, keeps music playing quietly in the background because he knows you hate the silence. He asks questions that are gentle, nothing too heavy or accusatory. The only time he gets firm is when you cry about not deserving a friend like him.

“Yeah, you can be an asshole sometimes, but don’t ever let me catch you talking that way about yourself,” Jimin says, unmoving. “You’re human and we all make mistakes. We learn and we move forward. I won’t let you be mean to yourself, though. That’s what you don’t deserve.”

Once you feel like you’ve said everything that you could possibly say, Jimin informs you that you’re taking tomorrow off as well and that he’ll be staying over. Just like when you were in college. The order for the night was trashy TV and junk food and no wine for you because you’re still hungover and no talking about feelings at all. You can pick all that up again tomorrow, but tonight is about giving your brain a break.

It takes much longer than you expect to really come to terms with what happened between you and Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since you walked out the door. In fact, you hadn’t even texted him until reaching out yesterday to see if he was willing to meet up. It wasn’t to work through things, though, as much as it was for you to heal. And hopefully for him to heal as well.

The past few months have been some of the scariest and most rewarding of your life. You’ve never really been alone, separate from a partner. You’ve gone from one relationship to the next for as long as you could remember and ignored anyone suggesting to take time nearly as long. The fight with Jungkook had been a wake-up call, an unwelcome one at the time, but one that you can now see the value in. It forced you to really look at yourself, at your choices, at everything that led you to that moment, to learn what you actually wanted.

And you don’t really know what you want, but you think it’s somewhere between your ex and Jungkook. Yes, you want something stable and comfortable, someone that you know and that you can rely on. At the same time, you want someone that will challenge you, excite you, keep you on your toes. It was unfair of you to put all that onto Jungkook. Whatever mistakes he may have also made, you want to own yours. Part of you knew that he was never going to be what you needed him to be and rushed forward head first anyway.

Everything led you to this point now, where you wait for Jungkook to show up. He had replied quicker than you expected and seemed happy to meet, despite you being clear on needing to talk to him. Maybe there were things he needed to say too.

The tinkling of the bell over the door catches your attention and you watch Jungkook walk through the doors, somehow exactly the same. It’s only been a few months, you remind yourself, not like he could change entirely.

The next part feels awkward, how do you greet him? You stand, considering what to do, when he saves you the trouble and goes in to give you a quick hug. Nothing too serious and also nothing too formal.

“Thanks for meeting me,” you say and he smiles.

“Of course,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about everything that happened too, honestly, so it felt like a good time.”

And just like that, it’s easy to talk. Really talk. Jungkook lets you go first and you lay out everything you’ve learned over the past couple months. He lets you make your apologies and makes his own. You’re able to take ownership of the mistakes you make, because you really understand them after months working through your shit, and feel like he’s forgiven you for how you handled things. You know that you can never fully expect to get closure in life, but this feels close. It feels like you can actually close the door on a chapter to move forward.

Apparently he’s been doing a lot of work on himself too. He admits to knowing that you were in deeper than he was and letting it go on anyway, something he’s not proud of and something he hopes you’ll forgive. He’s not there yet but he’s working on better communication, letting partners know what he can give and what he can’t. He’s trying to figure out what it is he actually wants and what he doesn’t. Even though you don’t need him to say it, he also wants you to know that, as cliche as it sounds, it wasn’t you. Not entirely at least. He got so caught up in how good the physical side of things was that he didn’t consider how you were both hurting each other.

Neither one of you is really sure how to leave things. Part of you, and you can see part of him too, wants to ask if there’s a way to move forward as friends. He’s been part of your life on and off for the past 7 years, since meeting when you were only 18 years old. You take the plunge, though, and say that he’s always going to have a place in your heart. You’re just not sure he can have a place in your life, at least not now. There’s a moment of relief on his face. Like he’s happy you were the one to make the call because he isn’t sure he could. He really does have a lot of work to do, he says.

“Do you know him?” Jungkook asks as the conversation is naturally winding down.

You turn your head to follow his eyes on a man wearing dress pants and a nice shirt. He seems caught up in whatever he’s reading on his laptop, slightly shaggy hair slipping into his eyes. You’re about to say no when he looks up and meets your eyes. There’s something…familiar about him. Like you know him from somewhere that you’ve forgotten. Almost like the memory is hazy and you can’t fully grasp it. He smiles, a really nice smile, and then looks back down at his laptop.

“I don’t think so,” you finally answer.

“He keeps looking over here,” Jungkook comments. You look for any sign of anything negative on his face, but it isn’t there.

“Yeah, I don’t know, if I do know him, I can’t figure out from where,” you admit.

“Maybe you should say hi,” he says and you just smile.

“With you here?” you ask.

Jungkook smiles with a shake of his head. He’s standing up the next second. “I actually have to go to an appointment with my therapist.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say and stand as well to give him another hug. Slightly less awkward this time.

“I’m proud of you too, proud of us, really,” he says.

“Take care, Jungkook,” you say.

“You too,” he answers with a smile.

Just like that, he’s heading out the door. He looks back once to smile at you and you wave. You’re wondering if that’s the last time you’ll see him. Maybe it is and maybe that’s exactly how it should be. Things feel better now, easier. There’s no lingering doubts and even though you know you still have a ways to go, you think that you can really do it this time.

But before you can retreat further into your own head, a voice breaks through your thoughts.

“This seat still taken?”

You look up to find the man that Jungkook asked about moments earlier and that’s when it clicks. Yes, you do know him and you finally remember from where. The world certainly works in mysterious ways.

i hope you liked it, it was definitely a ride writing it <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #kvanity #bangtantheatrenet #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #bts fic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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jaylaxies · 1 year

Text

A REUNION TO REMEMBER

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus public sex, car sex, mentions of drinking, mentions of jay and yunjin (le sserafim), and other idols.

WC: 11,380 words

SYNOPSIS: you last met park sunghoon when you were in high school, more precisely, when he had gained enough courage to ask you out, not knowing that the most popular girl of the school was already taken by the senior who was equally as popular. four years later, your batch decided to hold a reunion back in your town, where you meet sunghoon again. only, the problem is that he’s hotter than ever and you can’t, for the life of you, keep your eyes off him.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! happy hoon day! and this one is for my beloved @end-hyphen happy belated birthday iloveyou <33 i really hope that you like it! im sorry for taking so long to complete this fic but here we are :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <3

“There’s no way he didn’t know!” You exclaimed, recalling how things went down back in tenth grade.

Yunjin only sighed on the other end of the call, “listen, I love you but, you have to take into account how oblivious the poor boy was back then! He studied and skated, that’s all he did,” she spoke, emphasizing on the but part.

You huffed, sitting down on the edge of your bed, nodding to yourself as you found her point to be a valid one.

“It’s still awkward though,” you mumbled, playing with a loose thread of your sweater.

“It’ll be fine, okay? It’s been four years, and it’s not like you have to talk to him.” Her words were true yet again, and this is why you loved her.

Yunjin had been your best friend since you were in middle school, she’d always been honest and the social butterfly everyone loved, but at the same time, she was humble and kind, always taking care of the ones around her.

You were relieved to know that she would be with you for the school reunion, an event which was planned thoroughly. It wasn’t just a meet up, it was a three day trip back to your hometown, the first day being the reunion dinner night, the second being the beach day and the last being the night out at the new club.

The idea itself was thrilling, not to mention how desperately you needed this break, Yunjin even quicker to express her excitement by booking two hotel rooms for you both as your parents now lived in Seoul, and not in your hometown.

Another sigh left your mouth as you plop down on your bed, staring at the ceiling while wondering why you even bothered to check the guest list, to check whether Park Sunghoon was invited or not.

It was no surprise when you saw his name in the list, gulping as you recalled the embarrassing incident which took place between you both, the one in which you never got the opportunity to confront him.

You closed your eyes, revisiting the memory.

It was the last day of the tenth grade, your exams had just gotten over and the student crowd was elated, throwing notes everywhere to celebrate the same, which caused you to scrunch your nose at the sight of paper wastage and meaningless litter.

“Hey,” a sweet voice called your name at the exact second, succeeding in grabbing your attention.

You recognized him as your classmate, Sunghoon, who was also a good friend of your own friend, Jay.

“Hey! Hoon, right?” You smiled at him, a slight red colour spread on his cheeks at the sight of you.

He nodded, also saying hello to Yunjin, who was right next to you before his gaze fell to his fingers as he fiddled with them, mustering courage to look into your eyes, your own ones staring at him with curiosity.

“I just, I wanted to ask if you’d like to, you know, go out with me sometime?” He let out the question, unsure of what words he had used and cringing at how shaky his tone was.

Your eyes widened as you looked at Yunjin with pleading eyes, asking for help. It was no secret that you were one of the popular girls at your school; sweet, hardworking and humble.

Getting a confession such as this one was nothing new to you, declining politely always worked, however, that was when you were single and not in a relationship with the most popular guy in the school, who was also your senior. It was almost cliché with how the ace, Lee Heeseung, had ended up falling for you.

The news was quick to spread, fast enough for your group chat to go crazy, asking you questions which almost made you throw your phone away with embarrassment. In the span of three days, the whole school was aware of the new it couple. Except for Sunghoon, that is.

“As friends?” You winced at how pathetic your question was, which certainly made things ten times more awkward.

“N—no, as something more?” Sunghoon helpfully explained, looking everywhere but at your face now.

“Sunghoon,” Yunjin spoke up, causing you to release your breath, thankful that she was here to control the situation when you could say nothing and feel uncomfortable looking at his disappointed face.

“She’s taken, love! Sorry,” she informed him, his eyes widening and mouth agape.

You wondered if he was genuinely clueless about this, he did look lost to you.

You gasped, suddenly feeling an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as you stared at Heeseung in surprise, who was already looking down at you with a smirk.

“Hey, baby. I missed you,” he spoke up, kissing you right on the mouth.

Sunghoon witnessed the whole scene, a frown settling on his face, embarrassment clear as he softly said, “e—excuse me,” leaving as soon the words left his mouth, shoulders slumped

You never met him again, only seeing him with Jay at times. He was quick to change his school soon after it, knowing that he’d be able to do so easily since the finals were over.

And you were going to meet him now.

Your eyes snapped open at the thought of that, you just wished for the trip to be a pleasant one. Furthermore, from your side, you’d make sure to not be awkward around him, pretending as if the whole situation didn’t happen in the first place

If you’d even get to talk to him, that is.

“Wow, you really are dumb,” Jake laughed uncontrollably once Jay finished telling him the story of none other than Park Sunghoon.

“Shut up,” Hoon mumbled, annoyed that the topic which he had wanted so desperately to be buried forever was brought up once again.

“Wait, but if you knew about them dating then why didn’t you tell Hoon?” Jake pointed reh question towards Jay.

“Because he never told me he was going to confess in the first place!” Jay’s eyes widened almost comically as he exclaimed, “and it was exam time, Sunghoon had sworn he wouldn’t use his phone till the exams ended, and you probably don’t have any clue as to how big of a nerd he was—”

“Jay! Stop this,” Hoon whined, covering his face with his palm as Jay took out his phone, scrolling to find a picture of Sunghoon.

He looked a lot smaller than he is now, wearing a yellow, collared t-shirt and round specs, lips curved into a small smile as he looked into the camera.

“Holy fuck! You could have been easily casted for the live action of Doraemon, as Nobita of course.” Jake high-fived Jay after taking a look at the picture, the latter almost falling down with the laugh he had let out.

“Nobita? Oh god, can you guys shut up now? I don’t even want to go and face her ever again,” he snapped, whining right after.

He had been overthinking about everything that could happen once you meet him again. Would you laugh in his face and remind him of it? Heck, would you even remember him? It mattered to him a lot more than he’d like to admit.

A four year gap should have been enough to let his embarrassment fade away, however, all his efforts went to vain once he got invited to the reunion.

“Listen, it’ll be okay. She probably doesn’t even remember you!” Jay tried to make him feel better.

“That’s very consoling, thank you very much,” Hoon rolled his eyes, wondering if you’d forgotten him already. It wasn’t as if you both had been close, but you did see each around and during the classes. He won’t lie, the thought made him sad.

“You definitely have a chance now though, if that makes you feel better,” Jake let out slowly, noticing the glow up Sunghoon had after comparing him with his old picture.

“Shut up, I don’t like her anymore,” he mumbled, a light blush creeping up his neck as he did so.

Jake and Jay exchanged a look, putting on a smile as they dragged Sunghoon for shopping while Jay went on talking about what all they should be packing for the three day trip, bringing a genuine smile to Hoon’a face as he looked at his goofy best friends.

Maybe the trip wouldn’t be so bad, he thought.

“Ay babe! You look hot,” Yunjin winked at you, eyeing you up and down while you glided your lipstick along the expanse of your lips, smacking them together to spread it evenly.

You winked back, “you look hotter.” She laughed just as you said that, engulfing you in a hug.

“Ready to leave?” She asked, getting her luggage out as you followed with a nod, smiling while you got into the cab, Yunjin being quick to snap a few selfies to mark the start of your trip.

The entire time on your way to your destination, you felt giddy, wondering how everyone looked now. It had been a while since you had met them and you secretly hoped that you’d get a chance to get laid, the studies kept you busy and you hadn’t got time to tend to your needs.

Your mind was full of scenarios as you imagined how your stay would go, what all activities you’d do and so on, falling asleep on the plane while envisioning the same.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Yunjin shook your arm slightly, waking you up from your dreamland.

It took you a second to realize that the plane was going to land, followed by the announcement of the same and you were still sleepy when you put on your belt.

The journey was short, and you were checked into your hotel room in no time. As soon as you jumped on the bed, Yunjin came into your room holding a bunch of skincare products and sheet masks.

“Get up! We need that glow for tonight,” she demanded, plopping on the bed with you as she ushered you to go and wash your face.

Skincare was therapeutic for you, however, it also made you sleepy, even more so when the hotel beds were the definition of comfort and pleasure.

Your skin was glowing by the time you woke up, also checking the time so see that you had to start getting ready for the reunion dinner at once for you to reach there in time.

“No! You’re not wearing that,” Yunjin pointed at your trouser outfit.

“Why not?” You asked, looking at it. It did seem like a decent outfit to you.

“Because we have to show everyone that you’re still the it girl you were four years back, now hotter than ever,” she mumbled, looking into your luggage as you let her take the matter into her hands, your focus now on styling your hair.

“This!” She exclaimed, getting a dress out which made your eyes sparkle. It was a new dress which you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear before, and she was right, it’s the perfect opportunity for you all to dress up a little.

“Ready?” She smiled. She looked stunning in that black dress of hers, her freshly coloured hair only added to her beauty.

“Ready,” you confirmed.

“Y/n!” You heard your name, and suddenly you felt warm hands around your body, pulling you into a friendly hug.

Sweet voice and strawberry scent was enough for you to know it was Isa. A big smile spread on your face as you hugged her tighter, looking around to see all of your classmates hugging and talking to each other.

“You look so pretty!” You were in awe, seeing her gummy smile and the pink dress she sported.

“And you? You’re glowing! I bet you grow prettier each day,” she giggled, making your heart melt. She had always been kind and bubbly, another one of the reasons why you were so close to her.

You looked around the restaurant, it was new and the interior was modern, booked for the night for your batchmates. Meeting everyone was like a breath of fresh air.

You didn’t even manage to say hello to everyone before they announced the start of the dinner, asking everyone to take seats, however, Jay was quick to reach to you, his smile as sharp as you remembered it to be.

“As stunning as ever,” he complimented you, hugging your side.

He was in a black suit, hair styled accordingly and it was evident that was wearing an expensive scent. You can’t deny, he looked handsome.

“Thank you,” you said softly, “you look chic as always too.”

A shy smile graced his face, “come on, let’s go and sit,” he said.

You nodded, following him as you noticed that almost everyone had taken seats, Yunjin waving at you, pointing at the seat she saved, which you gladly took, fixing your dress while you did so.

What you failed to notice was the person next to you, who had visibly stiffened with your sudden appearance, until you turned your head to look at him.

Your breath hitched, and you prayed that it wasn’t visible how your eyes widened by just a fraction at the sight of Park Sunghoon.

Glow up would be an understatement, he looked like a completely different person without his specs and baby fat.

His eyes were a chestnut brown colour, it was the first time you had looked into them so clearly, face sculpted with a sharp jawline and pointed nose, lips naturally shaded into a glossy red shade and hair parted to the side, styled accordingly to match his black button up.

“Hey,” a deep voice snapped you out of your observation session and you realized that it was him.

“Sunghoon, hey. It’s been a while,” you smiled at him softly, hoping that he didn’t notice you staring at him just a second back.

Meanwhile the boy was surprised to know that you indeed remembered him, his heart beating a little faster now that he was in such a close proximity with you.

“You look beautiful,” he spoke mindlessly, mouth opening again as he realized what he had said out loud, “how have you been?” He quickly asked, mentally slapping himself for being such a mess.

That only made you smile further, “thank you, Hoon. You look really handsome too.” You let out, and you did mean it.

Your words made him smile, which displayed his fangs. Everything about him intrigued you all of a sudden, his presence affecting you in a way you didn’t think it would.

Before you could talk more, the waiters came out, bringing the starters as everyone chatted excitedly at your table, Yunjin pulling you to her side, whispering in your ear.

“Is that him? Y/n, you couldn’t say yes then but it’s not too late, do it now!” She rushed to speak into your ear, making sure no one else heard it but you.

“Yunjin shut up, I just met him,” you spoke with wide eyes.

“So? You have three days to be with him! And to be honest, he looks like he knows how to fuck—” you covered her mouth, not letting her finish the sentence.

“Oh lord! I’m not going to do that!” You exclaimed, taking a bite of your soup, mood uplifting at the scrumptious taste.

“But why?” She was almost going to whine before Sunghoon called out your name, saving you from this conversation.

“Yes?” You asked too quickly.

He chuckled softly and you swore your name sounded better when it came out of his mouth. Maybe you were too into studying all this while that even the littlest things made you jumpy.

Or maybe it was the man who sat next to you.

“Could you pass me that napkin, please?” He asked politely.

His slender fingers brushed against yours as he took the napkin from you, saying thank you to you, the slight touch of his cold hands made you shiver.

Yeonjun, who sat right in front of you, was successful in distracting you, asking about your life in Seoul and about what you’ve been studying.

He was also a student like you, although he liked to work as a model in his free time, “it pays well and you get free clothes too!” He explained with a goofy smile.

You felt content, loving how friendly the atmosphere was as if you guys never lost touch in the first place, everyone drinking champagne to celebrate with a cheer that you join in too, maybe this is why people hype reunions.

Sunghoon was attentive to everything you had said till now, trying his best not to stare at you every few minutes. Your smile made his lips curve into one as well, unconsciously at that.

The dinner concluded soon, everyone getting up and gathering for a round of group pictures.

Sunghoon’s hand brushed against yours in the process, succeeding in giving you goosebumps again, which he didn’t fail to observe.

“Are you cold?” He asked, noticing your goosebumps.

You didn’t have any better explanation, and you couldn’t possibly tell him that he was one responsible for it.

“Yes, a bit,” you answered, looking at the height difference between you both, his body looked buff, veins visible now that he had rolled his sleeves up.

“Here,” he offered his blazer to you, gently wrapping it around your frame as you could feel yourself being overdosed with his scent — it was attractive.

“I—thank you.” Your cheeks felt hot.

Sunghoon was clearly pleased to see you in his clothes, he had seen you after four years and yet, his opinion about you didn’t change, you looked perfect to him.

You both reached the group, you trying to tiptoe more as to ensure your visibility in the picture. It was hard to take a picture of such a big group, especially when people simply couldn’t stand straight out of excitement, posing with silly expressions.

“Y/n! Come here,” Yunjin called your name, pulling you close for another set of pictures with everyone.

“Listen guys! Tomorrow we’ll meet at the beach by twelve, make sure you reach there on time!” Hyunjin announced.

You loved beaches, the sunlight made the water shine like it hid the prettiest set of diamonds in there, the smell of land and water meeting was soothing to your senses, not to mention the smiling faces all around you. It all made beaches beautiful and you were excited about tomorrow already.

As you made your way out of the restaurant, you noticed two other people waiting for you along with your best friend, Jay and Sunghoon.

“You’re here! We’re taking a cab together to our hotel, apparently they’re staying over at the same place as ours,” she explained, “they probably have their rooms in front of ours too!” She joked.

Sunghoon looked at you in his blazer, deciding that he won’t even ask you to give it back to him, it suited you too much.

He wanted to spend more time with you, he wanted to sit next to you in the cab and he made sure to sit in between you and Jay, his side pressed against yours.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked softly.

“Oh, yeah. Are you?”

He nodded, loving the arrangement so far. Living in the same hotel meant that he’d get to see more of you.

“So, Y/n, how’s it going with uni? Do you have a boyfriend or someone special in your life?” Jay asked, knowing that his friend was dying to know the same.

“It’s hectic but somehow manageable, I like what I’m doing and I won’t be leaving without that degree so, yes I feel like the hard work would pay in the end,” you explained confidently, “and no, I do not have a boyfriend. It’s honestly hard to go on dates when you barely have time for yourself.”

You’d always been hard working and Sunghoon admired that about you, his focus was solely on you ever since you stepped inside the restaurant and talked to him. It wasn’t easy for Sunghoon to fall for someone, but once he saw you again, it was as if his feelings for you had never left.

Just then, the car swiftly came to a stop, jerking forward slightly as Sunghoon quickly put his arm around your waist, pulling your body into him, securing it.

Some car had jumped the red light, almost causing an accident, but thankfully you guys were all safe and without any scratch as the driver was quick to use the brakes.

“You okay?” He asked, whispering as he cupped your cheeks.

You nodded, unconsciously shifting closer to him and he didn’t make any efforts to move his hand away, letting it rest on your waist while your head rested against his shoulder.

It felt comfortable, his scent, his touch, but more than that, it felt genuine, which is why you closed your eyes, sleeping on his shoulder while his breathing hitched, looking at your sleeping figure.

So pretty, he thought, brushing a few strands of your hair away from your face, tucking them behind your ear, letting his fingers linger there for a while. It felt like a dream to Sunghoon, and he wished that he could get more of this — more of you.

The comfort and your warmth seemingly got to him as well, his head resting on yours as he drifted off to dreamland with a slight smile ghosting on his lips.

“Cute! Cute!”

“They look like a couple, woah.”

A series of flashes was quick to disturb your sleep, eyelids slowly opening to see two phones shoved near your face, clicking pictures of you, the chatter coming from the very same pair of people.

Just then, you realized that the picture in question was not just of you, but of the guy who so gladly let you sleep on his shoulder.

Your eyes widened when he blinked open his eyes too, Yunjin and Jay laughing at his reaction when he saw you staring at him, face inches away from yours.

His eyes widened comically before he diverted his attention to Jay, slapping his hand away who was busy shooting all of this on his phone, even the cab driver watched it with a fond smile on his face.

“You guys are adorable,” Yunjin squealed when you got out of the cab, rushing to get back to your room, cheeks heated and heart racing.

Were you embarrassed? Yes. But not even a single cell in your body can deny that it felt good — being close to someone.

“Stop pairing us as if we’re school kids!” You whispered into your best friend’s ear.

“It’s fun though.” She shrugged, joining you in the lift, “oh, and by the way, nice blazer you’ve got on,” she smiled, continuing to tease you.

Right, you had to return the blazer to Hoon.

Turns out, Yunjin was right and both of them were indeed on the same floor as you, your room right in front of Sunghoon’s room.

“Good night guys,” she sang, leaving for her room.

Jay followed suit, leaving for his own room, not forgetting to send a wink your way, which the other boy noticed with a frown on his face.

Your outstretched hand got his attention, his blazer now in your hand, “thank you so much, Hoon,” you spoke up.

His nickname comes out of your mouth seamlessly, making him smile.

“You can keep it with yourself,” he started, causing you to tilt your head in a questioning manner, “in case you feel cold again, y’know.”

“Yeah? What if I want you to be the one who keeps me warm if I feel cold tomorrow?” You looked into his eyes.

“I—Yes I can keep you warm, but we won’t be needing the blazer then,” he answered a second after overcoming the initial shock of you saying that.

“Perfect. Good night, Hoon,” you spoke sweetly.

However, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist the second you turned around, spinning you so you stood right in front of him, hands on his chest to support yourself as your eyes widened at his bold move.

“Good night, love,” he whispered, his finger tracing your jaw, before he leaned in to place a soft kiss on the apple of your cheek, a teasing smile on his face before he turned around, getting into his room.

Your fingers instantly touched the place where he had kissed you. The small display of affection earlier had left you restless and desperate for more, wondering how his lips would feel against the expanse of your skin.

You wanted more.

“Fuck! Faster, please,” you whined, his fingers pressed against your cunt, rubbing them in an agonizingly slow manner, his mouth planting kisses all down your valley of chest.

“You like that?” He asked against your skin, biting and sucking on your tits harshly, doing it enough to leave marks on your body.

The pain was more pleasurable than you could have ever thought of.

“So much,” you hummed, fingers grabbing onto his roots, tugging his hair.

You cried out of pleasure when he inserted two of his fingers into your pussy, thrusting them in and out before he came to whisper against your lips.

“Bet you dream of me too,” he smirked.

A moan left your mouth, which he silenced by kissing you right away, taking all your lewd noises in.

“Don’t you?” He asked again, his fingers leading you to your orgasm.

Until your alarm rang and your eyes snapped open, a gasp leaving your mouth once you came to the realization that it was just a dream.

A wet dream.

About Park Sunghoon.

“Oh god,” you groaned, hiding your face into the blanket, pussy tingling with the dream you had a few seconds back, mostly due to how realistic it was.

You had no other option but to hop into the shower and lean against the shower wall, touching yourself as your phone played a sensual song on Spotify, till you made a mess on your fingers, breathing hard while imagining how today would go.

Especially when you had a beach day ahead and the possibility of seeing Hoon shirtless would be high

Ignoring the fact that you had a wet dream about the man sitting in front of you during breakfast was a tough thing to do, yet you managed it well.

He looked like a prince even in casual clothes and he knew how to make you go crazy by just a wink of his, even giving you his doughnut which you wanted so dearly.

His appearance was innocent, unlike last night where he was in a black button up — hot and attractive beyond words, he left you speechless.

“Are we renting a bike or not?” You asked Yunjin with a smirk after you were done eating.

“I’m down,” she gave you a high-five, “I don’t know about the boys though.”

“Wait, you ride bikes?” Jay asked, impressed.

“Of course, we do!” You answered.

“Take us on rides then,” he said, brow raised at the offer.

“Sure, select your rider, we’ll go to the beach on the bike then,” you smiled.

By the time you got ready in shorts and a top, which you wore on your bikini set, the sun had come up and was shining brightly. You had your bag packed with all essentials and two sets of extra clothes because you never know when you’re at the beach, not to mention how much sunscreen you had used to protect your skin.

All four of you got into the lift, and you noticed how you and Yunjin were wearing the same colours, while the boys were in shorts and t-shirts.

“Who’s coming with me then?” She asked, showing her bike keys.

“I am,” Jay spoke up, as if it was their plan to leave you with Sunghoon, alone at that.

You turned to look at Hoon, “you’re stuck with me then.”

“Perfect,” he smirked, following you out.

“Wear this,” you passed him the helmet, which he put on.

But your gaze went on his arm, which flexed as he fixed his helmet, the short sleeved t-shirt did nothing to hide his muscles.

“Let’s go,” he smiled, snapping you out of your daydream.

“You ready?” A smirk settled on your face as you checked the rear view mirror, looking at Sunghoon, who was quick to send a nod back.

What he didn’t expect was that you’d speed up the second you start the bike, making him jerk forward and hold on to your waist, making you shiver slightly before you began your journey of a total of ten minutes, the beach being close to your hotel.

“Woah, fuck!” You heard the boy say from behind, making you smile as you zoomed past the cars and other vehicles.

“Hold on tight,” you screamed against the wind, loving the light breeze caressing your skin, and Sunghoon’s body pressed against yours.

His arms tightened around you with your command, and your mind wandered to the morning when you dreamt about him.

It did feel good, and you were certain you wanted more.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was looking around, enjoying the scenery, but most importantly, he was enjoying the time he got to spend with you — his old crush. He leaned in, taking in your scent, smiling at how you didn’t change your perfume still.

He was highly attentive and observant when it came to you.

A series of hooting was heard in the parking lot, where all of your gang was waiting for you four to arrive, thoroughly surprised to see you riding bikes.

“That’s hot,” Yeonjun came over, wearing only beach shorts, abs on display as he saw you take off your helmet, the scene looked as if it came out of a movie.

“Dang, you’ve been working out?” you asked, focus now on him as you happily chatted and took his hand, which he offered with his charming smile, and walked towards the beach with everyone else.

Sunghoon watched it all with his jaw clenched, Jay and Yunjin approaching him with a knowing expression on their faces. He wanted to spend time with you, and he didn’t expect anyone to steal you away from him so soon.

“Maybe she’d notice you if you remove your SpongeBob t-shirt,” Jay adviced, keeping his elbow on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with SpongeBob?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Oh, definitely, Jay's right. Do you have abs?” Yunjin asked, doing the same from his other side.

“I—why does it matter?” Hoon huffed, shrugging their hands off and walking further.

“It does matter when you’re whipped!” Jay announced helpfully, making Hoon stop to slap his shoulder.

“Stop shouting for fucks sake!” He warned.

“You’ll never get her at this rate. Trust me, go shirtless and see the magic. Also, stop being a loser and move your ass, go and approach her,” Jay said.

Sunghoon simply looked around to ensure that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation, his friend embarrassed him enough and your best friend didn’t help either. Did he actually make it that obvious? He wondered.

Seeing you laughing with Yeonjun did make him want to step up his game.

“Guys! Get changed and then the ones who wanna enjoy the water are free to do that, while those who wish to do water sports, gather around that area,” Taehyun announced, pointing at a shed area meant for the registration of water sports.

You simply wanted to enjoy in the water, so you made your way towards the changing stalls, getting rid of your shorts and top to reveal your bikini, after which, you looked into the mirror to ensure your appearance was okay.

“Love the bikini,” Isa complimented and you cooed at her one piece swimsuit. Everything she wore suited her perfectly.

And Isa didn’t lie, a lot of heads turned to look at you once you were out, some silently admiring your beauty, for instance — Sunghoon, with his mouth agape slightly.

While others, like Yeonjun, didn’t hesitate to show how pleased they were by your entrance, whistling slowly, which flustered you slightly as you rushed to get under the beach umbrella, eyes darting away to look at Sunghoon, who was already staring at you.

“See you in the water,” Yunjin left, running away with excitement clear on her face.

That left you two alone under the umbrella.

“You’re not going?” You asked Sunghoon, getting sunscreen out of your bag.

“Just waiting for you,” he spoke smoothly, causing you to look at him.

“Help me then?” You passed him the bottle of sunscreen, turning around with your lower lip bitten.

Sunghoon took a deep breath, he wanted to touch you in more ways than one. He squeezed out some sunscreen, his cold fingers touching your skin as he applied it on your shoulder with a gentle massage.

His strong hands made you sigh with pleasure, head tilting to give him more access to your neck area, his fingers paying attention to each inch of your back, fingers digging into your inner shoulder with his breath fanning your neck.

He took your name, almost as a whisper.

“Yes, Hoon?” You looked back at him, only to find his face inches away from you.

He came closer, looking into your eyes, “let’s go,” he smiled, heart racing from the proximity and he wasn’t sure how longer he could handle staying so close to you without even kissing you.

“Race you to the water,” you screamed, running away with a smile so big, it naturally made the boy smile as he realized how much he wanted you.

You were fast, but he was faster and his arms wrapped around your waist the second your feet touched the water. Soft giggles left your mouth as he turned you around and ran further, standing in the water with his arms open and a victorious smile graced his face.

“That’s cheating!” You pointed your finger at him, others laughing at your childish bickering as he defended himself with a serious expression, trying not to give in to your pout.

“I don’t cheat,” he came close to say, pouting on his own.

Before you could retort, he started splashing water all over your body, others joining soon and splashing water everywhere.

“Hoon!” You squealed, rushing to splash water back on him, only to trip and fall right into his arms, his hands firmly holding you close to him.

“Falling for me already?” He asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

“In your dreams,” you retorted.

“You were there,” he shrugged, confusing you yet again.

“Where?”

He hooked his finger and lifted your chin tenderly, making you look into his eyes, “in my dreams last night,” he winked, leaving you speechless.

Sunghoon was the shy, nerdy kid who used to sit in the front of the class, always keeping to himself, talking to only Jay.

Now, however, you couldn’t even recognize the guy in front of you. While you found the old Hoon to be cute, you wouldn’t lie when you say that the confidence he oozed now made you want to know him more. The words rolled off his tongue so smoothly, which made you wonder if he flirted with others too.

It seemed as if he was on a roll to make you go speechless, and his plan was working. By the time you turned around to reply to him, you saw him swiftly remove his t-shirt.

Your body stilled as your eyes traveled up and down his body, skin shining with the sunlight that complimented him perfectly. He was lean but muscular, muscles flexing as he took off his SpongeBob t-shirt, abs now on display for everyone to see. He looked flawless.

Yunjin elbowed your side, eliciting a yelp out of you, “what?” You whisper yelled.

“You’re drooling,” she giggled, “get that man,” she tapped on your shoulder, pushing you towards him.

However, when you observed some girl, who wasn’t a part of your group, coming close to Hoon while placing her hand on his bicep and asking if he was single, it made you want to run away and not witness the exchange of Sunghoon smirking at the other girl.

Naturally, you made your way out of the water, face hot as you fanned yourself walking towards the beach chairs under the umbrella, not knowing that the boy had no other job but to follow you, politely rejecting the other girl.

You sat down, closing your eyes as you tried your hardest not to think about the dream you had earlier, your desire only fuelled when he flirted with you with that ever so stunning smirk of his.

Seeing him shirtless was your last straw.

You needed alcohol in your system to survive this, to let yourself free. Sunghoon was already resting on the chair next to you by the time you opened your eyes again.

“I’m hurt,” he started, looking your way.

You raised your brows at his comment, “why? I thought you had company.” You took a sip of your drink, loving the bitter taste on your tongue.

Everyone was out of the water now, the gang was done with their water sports package as well, coming and sharing their experiences with a loud chatter, also talking about arranging a bonfire as the sky turned into the prettiest shades of yellow with orange and red hues.

“I do have company,” he whispered, coming closer for you to hear, “a very pretty one at that.”

He took the beer bottle from your hand, taking a long sip of it, your eyes fixated on how his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped it down.

You snatched your bottle from him, watching as two drops trailed down his chest and towards his abs.

“Sorry, but you left your pretty company back in the water,” you huffed, smiling sarcastically before leaving to get a shower and change back into your shorts before the bonfire.

Sunghoon held on to your wrist before you could escape, pulling you so your back was flesh against his chest, his lips on your ear, brushing it slightly, “you sound jealous, princess,” he teased.

You turned to look at him, lips an inch away from his, your head tilting, “I have no reason to be jealous, Sunghoon,” you quipped.

With that, you walked away, knowing well you were jealous when you had no right to be so.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was having the time of his life stealing your attention and having you to himself. Your reactions only encouraged him to do more, he wasn’t the one to flirt, however, he loved to get a reaction out of you.

Being together for two days was enough for Sunghoon to realize that his feelings for you never faded, it only grew more after spending more time with you. He couldn’t hide the smile forming on his face as you denied being jealous, it gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d have a chance to win your heart. The fragrance of your body mist lingered around him because of the earlier proximity.

He swore it was his new favourite scent.

His eyes followed you, admiring your beauty from afar before he too went to get a shower and freshen up.

“So, you and Sunghoon, huh?” Yeonjun asked, sitting down on the sand next to you.

The shower did make you feel better, the cool breeze and the sunset creating a calming atmosphere, the bonfire in front of you only making it cozier.

The question caught you off guard, resulting in an awkward cough from you, “what do you mean?”

“Come on, anyone can notice the sexual tension between you two, or maybe I’m just observant,” he shrugged, “you can’t deny that he’s hot,” he pointed out helpfully.

“I’m not denying anything, but I don’t think anything will happen between us,” you pouted, watching the man walk towards your group, drying his hair with a towel.

A gesture so natural, but he made it seem so enthralling that you couldn’t help but stare.

“So you do think he’s hot,” Yeonjun followed your gaze with a smirk.

He wasn’t going to let this go, and you were sure of that, a groan leaving your mouth as you divert your attention towards him.

“I’ll help you get his attention, although I think you’re doing pretty fine yourself,” he lowered his voice at the last few words as Sunghoon sat down next to you, passing you his charming smile.

“Truth or dare,” Yeonjun asked you, starting to implement his plan, passing you another can of beer.

Sunghoon looked at you with curiosity filled eyes, jaw clenched slightly as he noticed your closeness with Yeonjun.

“Uh—truth?” You asked more than answering.

This also gained the attention of your group, everyone cheering to play a round of truth and dare just like the old times.

“That’s boring,” he scrunched his nose, “how about I dare you to kiss someone in this circle?”

“Yeah, no. I’m not playing,” you took a long sip of your beer, ignoring the series of disappointed noises coming your way.

“Why?” He whined, “I bet anyone would want a kiss from you,” he emphasized on anyone.

Sunghoon bit his lips, eyes never leaving your face as he saw you disagree, a small smile on his face at your rejection. He wondered if Yeonjun wanted the kiss for himself.

“He’s right, you’re beautiful and oh god, I remember the number of proposals you used to get on Valentine’s day,” someone pointed out, giggling.

Seems like everyone was drunk already and the night had just started.

That statement made Hoon go stiff as he remembered his own memory of confessing to you.

“Oh, that reminds me of the time Sunghoon had come to ask you out,” Karina mentioned with a mischievous smile, as if everyone was on a mission to have you and Sunghoon in the spotlight.

The said guy groaned, hiding his face when the topic he so desperately wanted to avoid, came up out of nowhere, secretly hoping that you didn’t find him weird after remembering the same.

“Sunghoon confessed?”

“What? When did this happen?”

“Did you reject him?”

A bunch of questions were thrown your way and you looked at Hoon with a panicked face, him doing the same, gulping.

“It was in high school, and that’s all we’re telling you,” you answered, dismissing the crowd.

“So you can kiss him as your dare,” someone proudly suggested.

He looked bothered and you frowned, “guys, no. Let’s not make him uncomfortable now,” you spoke gently and Yeonjun took the hint to change the conversation really quick, daring someone else to drink five shots in a go.

“Hey. Are you alright?” You kept your hand on his surprisingly warm ones.

“You’re cold,” he frowned, intertwining his fingers with yours and keeping them inside his jacket’s pocket, “I have to keep you warm, remember?” He smiled.

He was nervous, trying his best to divert the topic and you let him, scooting closer to feel his warmth.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend back then,” he confessed with reddened cheeks, “I was just so busy with exams and—”

“You don’t have to say anything, Hoon. I understand and I’m sorry for what happened that day,” you tilted your head to look at him, blinking slowly as you finally felt your alcohol kicking in, “you’re pretty,” you whispered.

Hoon was on his fourth can of beer already, his tolerance level not being too high, causing him to get drunk faster.

His heartbeat rose up when you said that to him, and he pulled you closer, “you’re the prettiest,” he whispered, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Everyone seemed to be in their own worlds, laughing at random things, playing music and dancing, however, your drunk self wanted nothing more than to be with Sunghoon, to kiss him, and it took all of your self control to restrain yourself from doing so.

Sunghoon pulled you closer and on his lap, your face buried in his chest and his arms wrapped around you. He wanted you more than ever and being drunk, he couldn’t help but pull you impossibly closer to him.

Despite everything, you did admit how his presence made you feel warm inside, and it wasn’t solely because of alcohol.

He bummed a song under his breath, you almost slept in his hold, his deep voice giving you butterflies. His embrace made you feel wanted, just like you had wanted him, and you indeed were in your own world, soon being disturbed by others saying it’s time to go back.

Someone made you drink water, and soon, you were in a cab with your best friend next to you, Sunghoon on the other side and Jay riding shotgun.

“Good night,” Yunjin sang out once you reached your hotel, Jay leaving soon after.

“Come with me, I want to sleep with you,” you whined, no control over your mouth anymore, you took Sunghoon’s hand, pulling him into your room.

“Y/n,” he whispered, closing the door behind him.

“Fuck,” he muttered out, seeing you remove your denim shorts, leaving you in your t-shirt as you climbed on your bed.

He followed, discarding his clothes and getting into the bed with you, a blanket covering your bodies. Your back was pressed against his muscular chest, his arm around your waist keeping you in place.

A soft gasp left your mouth as you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his lips touching your skin, making it burn with warmth, “Hoon,” you softly whined.

“Yes, baby?” He continued placing open mouthed kisses on your skin.

“Kiss me,” you breathed out.

“Would you like that?”

“Yes, so much,” you confirmed.

“I want to kiss you,” he confessed, “but not when we’re drunk. If you ask that of me tomorrow then I’ll do it without question.”

You smiled even though he couldn’t see you, “okay,” you said softly, admiring how beautiful the man was.

You turned around to face him, “good night, Hoon,” your voice came out as a whisper.

“Good night , princess.” You felt his lips on your forehead before you drifted off to dreamland.

A dull ache in your head disturbed your precious sleep. Your eyes opened with a few blinks, settling down on Sunghoon, who laid next to you with his eyes capturing your each movement. You stiffened for a good second, remembering how hot his lips felt on your body the last night.

“Fuck,” you groaned, hand on your head as the effects of hangover started to kick in.

“Here,” he got up, passing you a bottle of water.

“Hoon,” you started, not sure what to say about last night.

“I’ll go,” he says, “I—I didn’t want to make things awkward between us,” he apologized, getting up quickly, putting his clothes on and leaving before you could say much.

“Ugh,” you groaned, hating how the situation turned into what it shouldn’t have been, you wanted him, drunk and sober, in both states.

But he didn’t know that. You were worried if he didn’t want that, or if his gestures were friendly all this time.

His kisses weren’t friendly last night, your mind reminded you, and you let out a series of curses at that, at how desperately you had wanted him to be close to you, all this in a span of two days.

Sunghoon was breathing hard by the time he locked his room, going straight in the shower. He was frustrated. The hot water droplets paired with his flashbacks from the last night, the way you said his name in a whisper, the way your bikini fit you perfectly, and how you looked at him like you wanted him just as much as he did.

He groaned, hand traveling down his skin to pump his semi hardened cock, gulping as images of you invaded his mind. With his head resting against the tiled wall, his fist moved on his length with speed, with need.

He had never jerked off to the thought of anyone before you came into his life again, it was his first time and he admitted, he didn’t know that just the thought of your body pressed against his would make him this hard.

With a moan escaping his lips, he painted the tiles white with his cum, your name leaving his lips as he stood there, breathing hard and deep in thought.

He had to have you.

Tonight.

“We’ll go first,” you tell Yunjin, getting ready together for the last night — the club night.

“Sure, but why?” she asked, trying to perfect her already perfect liner.

“I don’t wish to face Sunghoon,” you mumbled, sitting down on the bed to wear your heels.

She stopped her movements, turning to look at you, “I thought you guys hooked up last night, it was going well, wasn’t it?” She asked, confused.

“I don’t know, Yun. He didn’t do anything yesterday because we were drunk, which was very sweet of him, but then he left this morning without talking about it,” you explained.

“So talk tonight, and maybe do more cause you don’t have much time left,” she reminded you, “maybe go with Yeonjun’s plan too, Hoon would definitely reach out to you once he sees you with him. I’ve seen that he doesn’t really like when Jun’s with you, it shows on his face.”

“Really?” You asked with a frown, “making him jealous sounds very high school core to me.”

“So what? It works!” She smiled, “and I’m ready, how do I look?”

“Stunning, gorgeous, perfect,” you answered, “and I think I’ll take up your advice this time.”

She smirked, “let’s go and get you your man,” she said, coming close to you, getting a shade of lipstick out which suits you through and through, knowing well that it’s the perfect opportunity to use it.

Flashy lights, loud music, drinks and dancing bodies everywhere. It was easy to spot Yeonjun on the DJ stage, vibing to the music feely. Life of the party as always.

“Let’s grab some drinks,” Yunjin spoke in your ear, the music being too loud for you to hear much from a distance.

You nodded, following her and smiling when you saw a few people from your batch standing there and drinking.

“My ladies, you look hot,” Beomgyu said, kissing your knuckles and ordering drinks for you both.

Seems like making Hoon jealous won’t be a problem after all, especially when everyone has a flirty nature.

You weren’t going to drink today, you had to be sober and in your right mind, so you settled for orange juice instead, the music making you move on your own.

“My lady!” Yeonjun spoke up, popping out of nowhere, pulling you into a hug before he came closer to whisper, “you look stunning,” his eyes shining as he said so, “but I don’t see lover boy, where’s he?”

“Will be here soon I hope,” you replied.

“Dance with me, he’ll definitely come sooner if he sees you with me,” he smirked as you took his hand, taking up on his offer.

Yeonjun was a good company after all, your eyes widening at his bold moves before he pulled you in with a smirk, “lover boy’s here, and he’s looking at us,” he informed you, your eyes moving behind to look at him.

Sunghoon was agitated, he wanted you all to himself for tonight, and he wasn’t going to shy away today.

“Are you just gonna stand and watch while he takes away your girl?” Jay asked from beside him.

“Not today,” Hoon replied simply, his eyes following your actions, watching as Yeonjun took you to the bar, Gyu on the other side as you laughed about something you were talking about, whispering in each other’s ears.

Sunghoon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he walked towards you, he didn’t wish to be nice all of a sudden.

He stood behind you at the bar, eyes fixated on your face, the shade of lipstick you had on suited you so perfectly that he wanted to ruin it by smashing his lips onto yours.

Instead, he tapped on your shoulder, successfully capturing your attention as you finally looked at him thoroughly — he was clad in skinny jeans, a loose black shirt whose first two buttons were open, his chest slightly on display. A delicate chain on his slender neck, hair parted to the side to match his look and jaw clenched as he looked at you with a desire filled gaze.

“Can I steal you for a moment?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded mindlessly, gulping at how fine he looked.

He didn’t wait for you to follow him, instead, he held on to your wrist and pulled you with him, your eyes widened at his bold move, your feet moving quicker to match his pace as he dragged you out from the back door, to an alleyway which was empty.

“Sunghoon—” you called out his name, but he was quick to push you against the wall.

His eyes looked into yours, they were dark with a feeling you couldn’t quite understand before he leaned in, “remember what you said yesterday?” he asked, nose touching yours.

“What?” your voice came out shaky, his fingers on your arms were enough to make you shiver.

“That you wanted me to kiss you,” he leaned in further, his lips brushing against yours with his statement.

“What about it?” you asked, trying to sound stern.

He scoffed, “I bet you’d love it if Yeonjun would do that.”

“I could be wrong, but I have a feeling that you’re jealous, Hoon,” you replied, a small satisfactory smile on your face when you saw him scowl.

He tilted your head upwards, his fingers holding your chin up so you looked into his eyes, “yes,” he breathed out, “because I want you all to myself,” he confessed.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, breaking your tough girl act and pulling him closer by his collar, your hand on his shoulder as you pressed your lips onto his.

He was quick to react, pushing you against the wall harder while also pulling you closer by your ass, his other hand on your nape. His lips moved against yours in a perfect harmony, you felt your knees getting weaker as his soft lips kissed you with no intention of letting go.

He separated your legs apart with his knees, pushing it in between them, you pushed yourself further till you could feel his thigh in between your legs, applying pressure to your core which had you moaning into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he cussed, separating your lips to place rushed kisses on your neck, your head tilting to give him space as you grinded on his thigh.

“Ah— Hoon,” you whined, causing him to stop his actions, his slender fingers wrapping around your neck as he pulled you closer yet again, speaking against your lips.

“I really thought I was over you after not meeting you for four fucking years,” he almost growled, “but no. I saw you at the party sitting next to me and I realized that I still want you, more than ever,” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes.

“I want you too, Hoon,” your voice came out breathy.

He let out a low laugh at that, “you sure you don’t want Yeonjun?”

He was jealous, he didn’t even deny that and you admit you found this side of him hot.

“His name wasn’t on my tongue when I touched myself yesterday,” you admitted, not missing the look of slight surprise on his face, “it was yours,” you tiptoed to whisper in his ear.

A smirk on your lips as you tried to leave, but Hoon was quick to pull you back, his hand on the back of your head as he pushed you against the wall yet again, and you loved how easily he handled you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he said, “it makes me want to mark you up.”

“Do it,” you whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice, his lips on yours, your fingers tugging at his silky roots, sighing in exasperation with the wetness pooling in your underwear, your mind going fuzzy and your insides melting.

He nips at your bottom lip, hand traveling down to cup your breasts, your back arching as you feel a shiver going down your spine.

Your short dress and its sheer fabric does nothing to help you, your skin feels as if it’s on fire with how passionately he kisses you, your hand going under his shirt, touching his abs softly.

He knows it’s not appropriate to do this in public, but he can’t, for the life of him, stop his hands from roaming all over your body, from his fang-like canines to bite your clavicle and his eyes darkening from lust as he sees your body responding to him exactly how he wants to.

“I won’t be able to stop myself anymore,” he grunted, taking your name.

“Take me back to the hotel,” you breathed out, capturing his hand into yours.

He nodded, hoping that his hard on won’t be visible as he drags you in between the sea of dancing bodies, biting his lip before you both get to the parking lot, getting into the car he had rented earlier.

His hand rested on your thigh the whole fifteen minutes of the drive, inching upwards which made you squirm in your seat, low whines leaving your mouth desperately.

“Shh, baby. I’ll have to park the car right here if you keep making such sweet noises,” he warned.

The offer was tempting—tempting enough for you to let out a moan, to which he did what he had to. He swiftly took a turn, parking the car at the empty lane, switching the engine off before he unbuckled his seatbelt.

He turned your way, lips on yours as he unbuckled your belt too, a gasp leaving your lips as he effortlessly pulled you to his lap.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” His thumb traced your lips, which you parted to suck on two of his digits. You could feel his hardened length just under your clothed cunt, you moved your hips slightly, just to get a reaction out of him.

“I want you,” you begged, unbuckling his belt as he watched your every move.

“I can’t believe I get to have you now,” he says.

“What do you mean?” You stop to look at him.

He puts his arm around your waist, picking you up slightly to get rid of his pants and boxers, “you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted,” he says, eyes on your dress strap which slid down your shoulder, “tell me what you want, baby.”

“You. All of you,” you answered in a beat, “I can’t wait anymore, I can’t stop thinking about you,” you said.

“You don’t have to,” he whispered, kissing a sensitive spot below your ear, his fingers pulling your panties to the side, pressing them to your wetness.

You held onto his shoulders as he rubbed your wetness, his cock poking at your entrance alongside, “such pretty moans,” he smirked, feeling you being a mess in his arms.

Your words came out in fragments, legs shaking as he pushed his fingers inside you, your back arching. His lips were busy placing kisses all over your tits, pushing your dress down to reveal all of you.

Sunghoon was a patient person, but not when it came to you, one he felt like you were prepped enough, he swiftly pulled you up, pressing his lips upon yours as he pushed you down on his cock, your walls clenching around his length, the stretch too pleasurable for it to pain.

You both muttered a string of curses before you started shifting your hips, his hands on your waist guiding you up and down, eyes closing but he was quick to grab your chin, “look at me when I fuck you,” he said, bucking his hips up to meet yours.

He loved how you looked, hair messy, lips swollen and eyes slightly teary as you tried to form coherent sentences but failed.

“Can you feel what you’re doing to me?” He asked, taking your hand and pressing it to your lower abdomen where you could feel his cock sliding in and out effortlessly, given how wet you were.

“I—I’m close,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulder.

“Let go, baby,” he said, groaning as he felt your juices coating his dick, your moans louder than before, eyes closed and his name on your lips.

He grunted, rubbing your clit as he slid out of your pussy, stroking his cock until he spilled his cum all over your inner thigh.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he breathed out.

And he didn’t lie, his movements were more frantic than ever as he drove back to the hotel with record speed, making sure to stay and help you look presentable, the small touches of him all over your face made you feel an feeling which you couldn’t quite name, it was indescribable, but you knew it gave you butterflies.

And you wondered how this guy who fucked you so roughly not even ten minutes back could also be this sweet and caring.

You giggled as you ran into the elevator, a smile gracing his own face at your giddy mood, “I don’t want this night to end,” he confessed.

“It won’t end just yet,” you said, taking out your room card and opening the door, which he closed equally soon as he pushed you against the wood.

“Let me taste you,” he requested.

You smiled, unzipping your dress and moving towards your bed while facing Sunghoon, letting the dress fall along with your underwear, uncovering your bare body to him.

He unbuttoned his shirt, discarding all his garments. You could finally see him in light, his eyes hooded, body sculpted by the gods themselves, the v-line and his big cock making you gulp as you remembered how good he felt inside you.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered you, to which you obliged.

“Spread your pretty legs and let me see you, baby,” he spoke, getting in between your legs, his chain dangling down.

The nickname made you shiver, Park Sunghoon made you feel weak, in all good ways, the way he kissed your thighs, inching closer to your inner thighs, so close to your core which was still wet, all of this made you breathless.

A pathetic whine of Sunghoon’s name slipped past your lips the exact second he licked your pussy, his big hands keeping your legs open, “eyes on me,” he spoke against your wetness, humming at the taste.

He wastes no time in immersing his tongue into your pussy, licking and sucking as you panted, thighs shaking.

You feel ecstatic as his thumb probes at your narrow depths, stimulating your clit while he pushes his tongue in, “want you so much,” he spoke against you.

“Hoon! Please, can’t wait anymore,” you said, pussy swollen and you needed his cock inside you.

“So needy, and for me?” He asked cockily.

“Y—yes! Please,” you begged.

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” He comes up, kissing you, making you taste yourself on his tongue.

His chain dangled around your collarbone, his intense gaze focused on your expressions as he pumped his cock a few times, his tip on your entrance.

He pushed himself in with a swift movement, bottoming out. He asked if you felt fine, giving you time to adjust, he moved in and out of you swiftly, body pressed against your warm one, his each thrust getting deeper with the roll of his hips.

You could swear you had never felt this way before, he hit your g-spot so precisely, and the feeling of him being inside you, all raw and thick, made you mewl with pleasure.

“You look so pretty,” he groaned, licking your neck where he had just marked you, “falling apart on my cock like that.”

Your toes curled each time he opened his mouth to whisper something filthy into your ear, making your head spin in a good way.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, your fucked out face, swollen lips and the innocent eyes begging him to go faster made it harder for him to hold back. He, in fact, didn't wish to hold back anymore.

He thrusted in harder, squeezing your tit as you cried out his name, your walls clenching around him, making his length twitch.

“Cum in me!” You moaned out.

“Y/N, are you sure?” He asked, cupping your face.

He had never done that before, neither had you, however, you wanted nothing more than to experience it for the first time and you wanted it with each other.

You nodded, “yes,” before he pushed his cock harder, as you rutted your hips absentmindedly to ride out your high.

The room smelled like sex, the mist clouding it as your sounds resonated the walls, you didn’t even try to conceal your bodies anymore.

“Oh, fuck!” He grunted.

Your orgasm ripped through you as you pulled his nape closer for his lips to be on yours, his own climax rushing as you felt the warming sensation of Sunghoon’s cum filling your cunt up to the brim.

You both stilled, taking deep breaths and coming down from your state of euphoria, gulping as you saw him looking right at you.

“C’mere,” he said softly, getting up and watching his cum dripping down on your sheets.

He helped you get up, taking you to the washroom to get freshened up, his cheeks red as he saw you come out in nothing but the shirt he was wearing earlier.

You smiled at him softly and waited for him to come out after washing up.

“Hey,” he said, getting into the covers with you.

“Hey,” you turned towards him, still feeling giddy.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he said, touching your cheeks softly.

“Why would you say that?” You asked, keeping your hand on his.

“Before tonight, I had only ever dreamed of being this close to you, I never thought I’d even get to kiss you,” he spoke.

“Hoon, I’ve been thinking about you since we met again,” you told him, brushing his hair with your fingers softly.

That made him smile, “can I ask you something?”

You hummed, “yes?”

“Can we, y’know—” he fumbled with his words, making you laugh.

“Shh, we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah? Hold me to sleep,” you said, putting your arm around him.

His heart melted at the sight, and what made him happier was the fact that you didn’t just want him for sex, your smile expressed it all.

“Good night, baby,” he kissed you, just like last night. However, he kissed your lips tonight, making you giggle softly as you held onto him tighter.

He stared at you, not being able to hide his smile and wondering how he could ask you out again, especially when it would be easy for him to meet you since you both lived in Seoul.

The trip was officially over, and you could proudly admit that you loved every second of it.

Both Jay and Yunjin screamed in shock when Sunghoon kissed you at the airport before leaving for their own apartments, your flight being the same in which he couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on your seat.

A text popped up on your notification panel as soon as you reached your place.

Hoon <3:

hey

i was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime?

You:

as friends?

Hoon <3:

nooo, as something more :(

You:

what if i say yes :3

Hoon <3:

that’ll make me very very happy :D

You:

text me the date and time ;)

You smiled, loving how things had changed from the first time he asked you that question.

It was indeed a reunion that you could never forget.

THANK YOU FOR READING <3

#fic : a reunion to remember #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #park sunghoon smut #smut #jake smut #jay smut #heeseung smut #enhypen imagines #park sunghoon #sunghoon hard hours #romance #enha smut #enhypen fanfiction

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featherandferns · 11 months

Text

outdoor pool(fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | part of the F.W.B universe, but can be read as a stand-alone too | a little sappy but hopefully not too much!

content warning: drink & drug use; sex (f and m receiving; semi-public); technically drink-driving

word count: 5k

Blurb: Your latest 'date night' involves breaking into a Kook's back garden to swim around in their pool. After fooling around, JJ comes to a realisation.

Kook houses could be mistaken for castles when compared to most places on the Cut. Neatly kept shrubberies and bushes trimmed into ridiculous shapes. Fountains and water features, lit up in sparkly white and exciting red and blue. Obnoxious house names when numbers would easily do the same trick. But numbering was too common for the Kooks. They weren’t just another thing in the bunch; they’re the stand-out special. JJ takes them in as he walks down the dimly lit street, searching for you. You'd said to meet him on Basker Street (buried deep in one of the most prestigious Kook holiday neighbourhoods), and to bring some wine. He'd assumed there wasn't much a standard for the wine, grabbing the cheapest bottle he could find.

The sparsely spread streetlamps glare white on the concrete. When a silhouette of a girl, in a dress, comes into view, JJ smiles. He's pretty certain it's you - even more so when the figure waves - and picks up his pace.

“Hey,” JJ says.

“Hey,” you smile, sharing a brief kiss. The touch of your hand on his cheek is too fleeting – not that he’d ever say. “You found me.”

“What is this?”

“Date night,” you say. You spot the wine and grin, taking it to study the label. “You remembered.”

“Well, you only sent me ten texts to get some,” JJ sarcastically replies with a smile. You roll your eyes and go to dig about in his shorts for his pocketknife.

As you work the bottle open, you ask, “was it the most expensive one on the shelf?”

“Of course,” JJ says, as if insulted you would expect anything less. You glance up at him, bemused. At your struggling to open the wine, JJ takes it from you and does it himself. He fills the quiet (and blocks out your protests) by asking, “what’re we doing here, anyway? Property hunting?”

“It’s date night,” you repeat. Yeah, doesn’t help.

The cork pops out the bottle. JJ goes to toss it but you stop him, taking it and silently putting it in his pocket, a little embarrassed. It makes JJ smile though. The soft parts that you let him see, like your sentimentality, are like catching glimpses of shooting stars. He noticed about two weeks into officially dating you that you had an affinity for keepsakes. Pressed flowers from your walks; seashells from surf dates; the cut-out front of a condom packet, which you eventually confessed was from the first night you two spent, officially together. Whilst JJ had ragged you endlessly, he couldn’t deny that it was unexpectedly adorable.

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers, guiding him down the street. He swigs from the wine and passes it to you, taking a moment to take in the sight of you. Your dress fits snug around your waist, turning tight against your chest. Thin straps over each shoulder. It hangs loose and pretty, ending just before your knees. As you walk, the barely-there breeze from midnight makes it sway. Then he’s taking in the tiny beads threaded into your hair. Pink and blue and green. As you wiggle your fingers more comfortably into his hold, he feels the rings adorning your fingers against his skin, some rubbing against his own. One of them is his. A small token that he’d disguised as a ‘congratulations’ gift after a fight. When JJ had given it to you, he didn’t feel up to confessing that it was so you would have a piece of him. A silent marker that you were taken - taken by him. A symbol of his affection which he couldn’t quite put into words. Couldn’t bring himself to. But when you took it, you didn’t ask why extensively. You accepted his bullshit excuse and smiled, kissing him in thanks before slipping it on. It was too large for your fingers but fit well enough on your thumb. He often saw you play with it, as if perpetually checking it hadn’t fallen off.

“You look pretty, by the way,” he tells you. Smooth, Maybank. You’re a real Romeo.

You look up at him and smile, almost bashful like he just recited prose in your honour. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

You reach up to press a kiss to his lips, then pull away and keep walking down the moonlit street.

JJ appreciates you. He appreciates the way you don’t push him when he’s not so good at the romance part of things. JJ can talk dirty; he could say the most disgusting things that would have a nun wanting to pull a Vincent Van Gogh. He knows how to touch you to have you trembling and begging, but when things get sentimental, he doesn’t always know how to act. He often brushes off compliments with a joke and disguise his own in some stupid tease. But you seemed to notice and understand. You let JJ do things for you – like open the bottle of wine – because at some point you clocked that acts of service were the best way for JJ to show his affection. He hadn’t figured that one out: Kie had, one day when she came to the chateau to find him working on your pushbike, unbeknownst to you. When JJ explained what he was doing and why (that you'd been complaining about the chain always coming off), Kiara took the mick out of him before casually telling him that his ‘love-language’ was acts of service. Whilst JJ had shrugged it off and told her to do one, he did think about it later that day, after he gave you back your bike (which you had, in all honesty, thought was stolen) and saw how your face lit up. Felt how you kissed him in gratitude. Felt how it made his heart lurch in a way that still felt unnatural.

You take the wine from JJ, pulling his thoughts back to reality. He watches as you take a long drink.

“Alright, what’s the plan for this date-night, then?” he asks.

“So, I’m at work the other day, right? And this waitress I work with has a bunch of friends who come here during the summers.”

“Is this gonna be a long story?”

“Shut up.”

JJ chuckles. He takes the wine and drinks, letting you continue.

“So she starts telling me that this girl’s family always leaves the same day, every year, a week before school starts up.”

JJ wants to groan at the reminder that school is just around the corner. Joy, oh, joy.

“So, there’s this big empty Kook house, right? I think, hm, that’s sort of interesting, but don’t deep it all that much. But then she starts telling me how they’ve been having problems with their security and that they were kinda reluctant to leave. They did anyway, after finding out they can get the stuff fixed on the twenty-seventh.”

JJ’s furrows his brows as he processes all the parts of your story. He looks down at you, passing the wine. You take a drink and then grin up at him, becoming giddy.

“So now I’m like: there’s a kook house with no security, no working cameras, and nobody home. Then, the pièce de résistance happens.”

JJ can’t help but mirror your grin, still a little sceptical. The two of you turn down a dark alley as your story begins to come to its climax.

“She starts telling me about this party this girl had there the other night and me (being the polite person that I am) asks to see some pictures. She starts showing me these garden party pics and I notice the biggest fuck-off pool you have ever seen.”

Another swig each of the wine. Your pace is beginning to slow.

“So, now I’m like: kook house; no security; no cameras; nobody home; huge pool; hot boyfriend.”

“Oh?” JJ prompts, smirking.

“And so I present to you…”

You come to a stop and detach your hold from his. Moving to stand in front of him, you gesture to a tall, black-painted fence grandly, as unveiling the latest Amazonian discovery.

“Date night!”

JJ nods, impressed, and holds the wine out to you in approval.

“So, our date night is basically breaking and entering into a Kook’s back garden to swim around in their pool?”

You shrug, as if innocent, and nod up at him. “Yeah, pretty much. Thoughts?”

The kiss he presses to your lips makes you laugh, but there’s no complaints as you melt against him, tugging him a smidge closer by his hands. “I think you’re like something out of my Goddamn dreams.”

“Cute,” you whisper against his lips. He tries to fight off his blush. Pulling away, you stand near the fence. “Give us a boost?”

“Yes, ma’am,” JJ mumbles.

Dumping the wine for a moment, JJ interlocks his fingers to form a makeshift step and boosts you up the fence on the count of three (shamelessly glancing up your skirt as you go). You grunt as you pull your body weight up and over. He hears the thump of your feet landing on the other side. The sight of your fingertips wiggling over the other side of the fence makes him laugh.

“Pass me the wine?”

JJ does as you ask and then he’s hoisting himself over the fence with a grunt. When he jumps down, you’re already wandering across the lawn. His eyes widen as he takes it all in.

There’s a bandstand – a bandstand – off to the side, alongside a lawn swing. On the patio (that looks power-jetted clean) sits a pristine table for eight, with the most high-end barbeque station set up behind. The windows of the downstairs are floor to ceiling; not one smudge or fleck of dirt in sight. He doesn’t bother to inspect the flower arrangements, but he’s sure that if he were to, there wouldn’t be one weed in sight, and not one leaf out of place.

The lights don’t seem to be motion censored because as you move towards the pool - likely searching for the button to get rid of the cover - nothing lights up. It’s only the leftover glow from the streetlights and the moonlight above that illuminate the yard and yourself.

As he watches you a moment and smiles. Calling you pretty was an understatement. Radiant might be a better match, as you smile to yourself whilst working back the cover. The dress and the hair and the detail of the wine is adorable, hinting at all the thought you’ve put into something that you seem to be trying to pass off as ‘incidental.’ Your affinity for petty crime, high sex drive and textbook rebellion nearly brings him to his knees. He wasn’t kidding when he said you were out of his dreams.

“You gonna come over or what?” you call.

“Keep your voice down, huh?” JJ says back, but does as he's told.

He takes the wine from the floor where you’ve ditched it and takes a few more swigs. The whir of mechanics is droning in the background as the pool cover peels back.

“Most of the houses round here are holiday spots,” you remind him. “I bet half of them are empty.”

“Imagine having two houses, huh?” JJ says, turning around to take in the house once more. White walls which look freshly painted...It’s definitely not the chateau or his piece-of-shit home, that’s for sure. “I’d get myself a boat house, I think. Just living on the water forever, you know?”

When he turns around to continue chewing your ear off, his words get stuck in his throat. You’re stripping out of your dress, stepping out of your shoes, until soon you’re standing in just your bralette and panties. As you toss the dress to the side of the grass, you look up at JJ and give a small laugh. Taking the wine, you ask, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna jump in?”

JJ grins, finding his thoughts, and he tugs off his t-shirt. He digs the phone and cork out of his pockets, adding them to the pile, then toes off his boots. He takes the bottle from your outstretched hand and, as soon as it’s in his hold, JJ’s smile twists into mischievous and he shoves you into the water by your shoulder. The small shriek you give out gets drowned out by the pool, making him laugh. When your head emerges, you’re raking your hair off your face.

“JJ! I didn’t wanna get my hair wet!” you cuss at him.

He rolls his eyes, takes another swig, ditches the bottle on the side, then cannonballs into the water. He hears the crash as he breaks through the surface mellow out by the weirdly soothing lull from being underwater. Swimming to the surface, he shakes his head like a dog trying to get dry. As water droplets spray at you, you keep complaining. The only way you get him to stop is by splashing him. That turns into a thing of its own, and by the end the two of you are thoroughly drenched and laughing your heads off.

When the commotion dies down – adrenaline still high in the veins – JJ treads water and looks at you. You’re watching him too, smiling in content, and then you make an adorable face as if to say, ‘not a bad idea, huh?’

JJ swims over, placing one hand on your waist to pull you nearer, and captures you in a soggy kiss. When you break apart, you begin swimming backwards with a small giggle. You move to float on your back and sigh at the sky of stars.

“Imagine living here and doing this anytime you like.”

“I can see how much I’ve got in the bank. Offer to buy it off them,” JJ suggests, swimming to the poolside to retrieve the wine and take another swig.

“Considering your ‘bank’ is a piggy bank, I don’t know if we’ve got much of a shot,” you tell him.

JJ pushes himself up and out of the water. The stones aren’t cold on his feet; it’s a pleasantly warm night. He whistles for your attention and you move to tread water again. Your bralette is stuck tight to your skin from the wet, making it nearly see-through. Nipples hardening under the cool water, they push against the cotton. JJ tries to shove the dirty thoughts that come to the back of his head for later. He then puts on a show of standing to attention at the pool side, making you grin.

“And here we have JJ Maybank, diving for the Pogues of Kildare County. He’s been training for this day his whole life. Let’s see what he’s got,” you commentate in a deep, Kentucky-type voice.

JJ snorts at your antics before gathering himself. He limbers up, shamelessly and subtly flexes his muscles for your benefit, and then dives off the side, air whooshing past his ears. Before he hits the water, he hears a whistle and whoop from you, making him smile as he sinks under. Swimming over to your kicking legs, he comes to the surface about an arm’s length away. You cringe with a smile as he shakes his wet hair out of his face. Taking you by the waist, he pulls you closer. You’re at the shallow end now; JJ settles on his feet.

“What’s the mark, then?”

“Hm,” you pretend to think. Your arms loop around his shoulders and neck, and you float nearer so you can wrap yourself around him, nearly straddling him. “An eight?”

“Tough critic,” JJ complains weakly, grinning down at you.

You pretended to debate over his words, rocking your head from side to side, pursing your lips. “It might be possible to sway me.”

“Oh really?” he says. He leans down so his forehead bumps against yours.

You let out a low giggle. He watches your eyes look down to his lips, lashes coming close to kissing your cheeks. He lets his own gaze sink down. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Yeah.”

JJ presses his lips to yours.

Kissing you feels like coming up for air after diving for hours, or seeing sunlight after a restless winter night. JJ never thought he could become the type of guy who would enjoy the same person forever; thought he would tire of their way of kissing and of their company, and they, in turn, would tire of him. But kissing you never got tiresome. It was like it was always new, and yet it was never changing. The small noises you made, so quiet that if he weren’t waiting to catch them, he never would. The habits you had formed: fingers tethering into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, and the way JJ loved to tease his teeth against your lower lip.

As the two of you make out, JJ somehow pulls you closer. One of your hands gently brushes down his chest, over his muscles, and he feels as his body responds happily to your touch. The caress of your fingers, one by one, chasing down him. The slip of your leg, tugging you closer, grinding against him. His tongue sensually brushes against yours - one of his hands coming to cup your jaw and angle your head just-so – as the kiss turns licentious. You sigh against his lips, as if breathing new life into him, and JJ feels himself begin to harden. When his hand on your jaw slides down your neck, a brief thought makes him harder still: that his whole palm could wrap around your throat in the most delicious, delicate of ways. He brings it to cup at your breast, palming over the thin, soaked fabric of your bralette. JJ briefly pulls his mouth from yours.

There’s a split second where you let out a breathless moan, head tipping forward, and JJ smiles down at you through barely open eyes.

“Ever done it in a pool?”

You open your eyes, looking up at him. He feels as you grind against him, becoming needy for friction, and he lets his thumb tease at your hardening nipple. Small pants of pleasure slip past your lips as you reply, “can’t say that I have.”

“Wanna cross it off the bucket list, pretty girl?” he wonders, resting his forehead against yours once more.

JJ likes having the control. Of seeing you at his mercy, preening into his touch, whining and desperate and lax, and all for him. Makes him feel like a young God.

Cocky, he rubs you against him with a guiding hand on your ass. “Hm?”

But JJ forgets why he’s so drawn to you, sometimes. Forgets how you’re a little too much like him. It all comes racing back when he feels your hand slipping into his shorts, into his boxers, and you palm at him, hard under your touch. He gasps against your lips, confidence killed short. His eyes slip shut in pleasure, groaning as you start to give him a hand-job.

He can hear the smirk in your words as you ask, “do you?”

Maybe it’s the thrill of it all: of being with you, of sneaking into someone’s pool, of fucking in someone else’s back garden, where if anybody took a moment to glance out their back window, they could see the two of you…JJ’s sure he’s never felt this way. Never felt so raptured; so merciless.

JJ guides a hand to your panties, slipping his fingers under the cotton that’s pasted to your skin. You’re wet against his touch (a different sort of slick to the pool water) and he twitches in your hand at the feel of it. The battle for control fades away as the two of you simultaneously work at getting the other off, desperately chasing your own highs. JJ’s fingers work between your legs, pushing into you slowly, coaxing your thighs to part under his touch. He uses one hand to try and hold you up, but as you keep jacking him off, he feels his resolve breaking. At some point, he works to have you pressed against the pool wall. The water barely reaches the top of your shoulders and JJ’s chest is halfway exposed.

He's groaning, resting his chin on your shoulder, lost in feel of your smaller hand wrapped around him. Your head is slumped against his collarbones, breath hot and fanning on his chest. It’s as if it has been filled with lead and you can’t hold it up, collapsing against him as you pant and gently moan as JJ pumps his fingers in and out of you. In and out. Sometimes your pace falters on him, your hold stumbling when his thumb brushes against your clit, but you soon recover.

The two you know the other’s body well now. There’re no scars to hide and no insecurities to shun. No cellulite or stretch mark for you to be ashamed of, and no faded bruise and semi-healed cigarette burn for JJ to overthink. There’s only you and him, and the promise of pleasure and safety.

JJ feels himself getting close. You seem to know, somehow. Your fingers loop into the threads of his hair, coiling around like a snake, tugging him so his head is nearer to your lips. He’s almost whining, eyes clenched shut, rutting against your hold as he desperately chases his release. There’s a hot, wet breath on the edge of JJ’s ear as you sinfully whisper, “doing so good for me, baby. So good.”

He can’t help but come with a shudder, gasping out a moan, trembling against you. Your name falls into the mix and your hold on him doesn't cease. JJ takes a moment to catch his breath, ensuring he doesn’t stop fingering you. As the euphoric haze begins to fade, and he manages his eyes open, he feels your head once again on his chest. You’re whining too, pitch high and eager, the sounds short as you’re gasping his name as if in plea. He can feel you despairingly driving his fingers deeper, practically riding his hand, and he smirks against the skin of your shoulder. Kisses of fake nicety as he then goes to bite at your skin, never hard enough to break the surface. You moan, louder, sensitive like every nerve ending is on fire. Anybody could hear you. Anybody could see you fucking his fingers. JJ puts more focus to your clit, applying pressure as he rubs, and you seem newly driven. Your hands grab at his shoulders, forcing your body on his fingers harder. Deeper. JJ pulls back enough to look down at you, eyes hooded, and feels his spent dick twitch at the sight of you using him to find release. Mouth hung open, gasping and panting, eyes clenched shut as if it’s all incomprehensible. Something from his Goddamn dreams.

JJ uses his spare hand to gently push back your hair from your face, swiping a finger over the apple of your cheek.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes. He scissors his fingers, pushing against your walls. You’re close. He can feel it. He can hear it. The sloppily disturbance of the water from your movement is so obscenely filthy in the context of what’s happening. Anybody could see you. JJ presses more wet kisses to your neck, to your collarbone. Anywhere his lips can reach until they find home on yours. “Come on, baby. You can let go. Come on.”

Finally, the tether snaps. Your moan is shameless and loud, as if you’ve forgotten where you are. As if there’s nothing else that you need to know expect that JJ’s there, easing you through it all. He feels as your walls convulse around his fingers, pushing him out and pulling him in, and he pants through his arousal as he watches you come. Watches as your teeth sink into your lower lip. As your face shines hot. The pool water droplets shining on your skin. How you’re shaking under him. Watches as you ease your eyes open, meeting his gaze. Sees the unshed tears in your lash line from the pleasure. The bashful, thankful smile you barely manage to show. There’s the feeling of one of your hands on his wrist, gently but firmly easing his touch away, overstimulated. When you gasp as his fingers slip out of you, all too easy, you’re still staring into his eyes. JJ’s thoughts are mostly vacant except for a few, and all of them are about you.

Your hand cups at his jaw so you can pull him into a kiss. It’s fleeting and sweet.

“If we ever win the lottery, we’re getting a pool,” you tell him.

JJ laughs, breathless. “Agreed.”

“Jesus. Pretty good date, huh?” you chuckle. JJ can’t help but kiss you again.

“Hell yeah.”

You both pull back enough to take the other in fully. JJ tucks himself back into his boxers, and you correct your underwear so the both of you are decent. You look around at the garden, as if remembering where you are.

“We should probably get out of here before we get caught,” you say. You don’t sound overly concerned though. JJ smiles.

“Think we might’ve blown our cover, somehow,” he agrees.

You roll your eyes, diffident. JJ swims backwards, extending a hand to bring you with him. Neither of you look down into the water. Instead, you both swim towards the deep end again, where your belongings had been ditched. The two of you climb out into the balmy one-in-the-morning air. JJ goes to your clothes – shoving his phone and the cork back into his shorts – and picks up your dress. The two of you swap the wine and dress, you having just taken a drink, and JJ takes a swig too.

“You ride your bike here?” you wonder as you pull on the dress. It seems to be a bit of a struggle against your wet skin.

“John B gave me a lift,” JJ replies. He pulls on his shirt. At your struggle to work up the straps, JJ walks over to help. “You walk?”

“Drove. I can give us a lift to the chateau. Told my parents I'd crash there tonight,” you say. JJ nods.

Once you’re dressed, you look up at him and smile. He's heart thuds painfully in his chest. He leans down to kiss you, chaste and tender. The two of you start back to the fence. JJ boosts you over, hands the wine, climbs over himself. You hold hands as you walk to your car. Sliding into the passenger side, JJ sighs against the seat. The wine’s now empty and he shoves the bottle under the back seat. You get behind the wheel and start up the engine. As the car blinks to life, coughing up a new lung in the process, the radio kicks in. It’s tuned into some crackly channel which is only just in service, playing mostly oldies and classics. The volume is low, just loud enough to tune out the concerning noise of the engine, and you reverse out of your spot and begin down the road.

JJ relaxes into the seat, crossing his ankles. There's one of his caps on the dashboard that he left the other day; taking it, he puts it on his head. JJ watches as you dig about in the centre console for your cigarettes. Holding one between your lips, you light it up with a flick of your lighter. You know JJ doesn’t mind you smoking in the car so you don’t bother cracking a window. He watches you take a drag, leaning one elbow on the window frame, finger cradling the cig, as you use the other to leisurely steer. The roads are dead. It’s dark and your headlights are on low. JJ glances out the side window to take in the starry night, looking past his reflection in the dark. Your fingers drum on the steering wheel as Rich Girl starts up. He hears as you hum along quietly, lazy as if unaware you are, and he smiles. His own fingers tap along to the beat on his thigh. Glancing over to you, he watches you change hands on the wheel (cigarette precariously propped between two fingers). He takes the chance to grab at the hand nearest him, pulling it to his lips to press kisses against your knuckles. Your eyes flit to him as he does, smiling sweetly, and you move to interlock your fingers with his.

“I don’t want summer to end,” JJ tells you, his voice low in confession.

“Me neither,” you reply.

The radio host starts lamely interrupting the end of the song, hyping up what’s to come next for the truck drivers and road trippers, driving in the dead of the night.

“What’s gonna happen with us, at school?” you wonder. There’s an anxiety to your voice.

JJ shrugs. He answers honestly. “I don’t know. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You mean that, right? Like, you’re not just gonna dip?” you worry.

JJ frowns. “No. I’m not gonna dip.”

“Okay,” you say, finding a smile again. You nod, looking back to the road. “Okay.”

As the song comes to a close, a thought seems to flash in your mind and your head whips to look at him. “You know I’m not gonna dip either, right?”

JJ laughs, “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Okay,” you say, chuckling. “Just wanted to check.”

Everything about the night is infinite. The pool and the wine and the sneaking. The fooling around and the tender moments after. And now, in the car, with the pair of you easily slipping between sentimental and sincere, carefree and young. He loves that he can do this with you. Loves how he can trust you to understand him; how you’re a little bossy and a little controlling, but how you also allow him to see the nostalgic, tender-hearted teenage girl beneath it all. The girl who keeps corks from five-dollar wine and collects napkins from breakfast diners. Loves how you feel safe enough with him to mess around in someone else’s back garden; to let him have you, all of you, nearly every night.

The words come to JJ, easy now. Obvious. The many layers of feelings that he had whenever he thought of you or whenever he was around you seem so easily condensed and summarised in that one word. He always thought it would be terrifying to feel it, and even more terrifying to say it. But with you, it isn’t. If anything, it’s easier. Simpler. It encapsulates all the things JJ likes about you, and even the things that aggravate him too.

“I love you.”

Your humming stops. You glance over to him, eyes a little wide. The brief wash of anxiety that drenches JJ passes quickly when he sees the corner of your lips twitch into a smile.

"Really?" you ask gently. Somewhat disbelieving. As if there could be any doubt in his mind. As if you weren't easy for JJ to fall in love with.

JJ smiles back. It might be the softest, sweetest smile he's ever had the pleasure to show someone. Only you. "Really."

When you giggle, it's quiet; teeth sinking into your lower lip. The moonlight washes over you. Looking back to the road, you continue smiling, giddy like a school girl after her first kiss. JJ can't help but watch you. Now that he's said it once, he wants to say it again and again. He won't though. Doesn't want to be too much, too fast. But then the silence stretches too long, making him antsy.

"Any chance you might feel the same way?" he tentatively asks, hating how desperate it sounds.

Your face shocks with realisation. Laughing, you look to him. "Oh shit! Yeah, I love you too."

JJ laughs along, shaking his head.

"Sorry. Just caught me off guard. Kinda forgot I had to reply," you confess, chuckling. Rolling his eyes, JJ squeezes your hand, still intertwined with his. He's pinned each and every hope on you; every wish for the future and every regret of the past. No matter what happens now, the two of you are forever tethered to this moment and to those words. To each other.

Your demeanour softens. Bringing his hand to your lips, you press a kiss to the skin. His knuckles are permanently scarred; having broken and healed over so many times. But so are yours. Same coin: different sides. When you repeat the phrase, it's as if you're passing a secret and whispering a prayer straight to God's ear.

"I love you."

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discount-shades · 1 year

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Contract Spouse Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Living the Lie

A/N: to quote M*A*S*H “War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.”

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning: Angst, war, PTSD, civilian deaths, child death, nightmares

Length: 2100 ish

Summary: Jake and Pip settle into living together.

Previous Masterlist Next

Two weeks after you had settled into Jake's house in San Diego you were on the phone with Sami. Your almost daily phone calls with Jake had been replaced by phone calls to Sami. You look up from the pasta you were stirring on the stove as Jake walks through the side door. He goes to greet you but cuts himself off when he sees you are on the phone.

“Who is it?” You read his lips as he mouths the question and you mouth the answer back. “Hi Sami,” he calls out.

“Jake says hi,” you say with a resigned sigh. Relaying a conversation between the two siblings when you were on the phone with Jake had started very soon after the wedding and now that you were living with Jake, the habit had immediately resumed in reverse and you had long since given up trying to get them to talk to each other. Jake now sports a smile identical to the one Sami always had on her face during these conversations.

When you finally hang up the phone you roll your eyes at Jake. “You guys are ridiculous, I hate you both.”

“No you don’t,” he grins as he heads to his room to change out of his work clothes “You love us.”

“That's the problem.” You mumble to yourself as you dump the pasta into a serving dish and set the table before sitting down to dinner.

“I got two more quotes on redoing the roof,” you tell Jake between bites of alfredo. “I think we should go with the second, they’re more expensive but have better reviews and can begin sooner.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Jake shrugs, relieved you had taken over the repairs he had been too busy to arrange.

“And the contractor for the hot water tank called, he had a cancellation and can come replace ours tomorrow.” Jake just nods in confirmation and you fight a sigh.

The house that Jake had bought a few months ago, though overall in good shape, had needed a few updates and you had quickly taken over organizing them. Talking about hiring contractors over dinner makes you feel more married than you have ever felt before. The monotony of cohabitation made slipping into the rhythm of life together automatic.

Living with Jake was easy. You worked together seamlessly, easily dividing household chores and responsibilities. Chatting in the evenings, watching tv, or just sitting in silence reading. The two of you just fit together. He had even tolerated you reorganizing every drawer and shelf in the common spaces with minimal cursing over not being able to find things.

Life continues in the same thread. You and Jake grocery shopping, going for walks, cooking, and doing dishes, just easily living together. But as time went on you were finding it harder and harder.

Everyday you had to stifle your imagination as you pictured him coming through the door and giving you a kiss. The little part in your heart that you could never squish down was still hoping that one day Jake would look at you and fall in love.

The logical part tried to keep your breathing steady when Jake would brush past you in the kitchen. Tried to keep you from melting into his touch when he placed his hand on your lower back when you were walking together in public. Tried to keep from staring when you were together.

It didn’t help that Jake frequently walks around without his shirt. Whether it was first thing in the morning, after a shower, or after a run. You loved and hated it. When you said goodnight and went to your separate rooms you wanted to follow him into the master bedroom and finally end your embarrassingly long dry spell. You should have hooked up with your cute neighbor in your final days in Austin. Maybe that would have made things easier.

– – –

“Jake,” your voice startles him out of his sleep. He can hear you tapping gently on his door before easing it open. “We have a problem.”

“What's wrong?” he mumbles sleepily as he sits up in bed, squinting in the hall light shining through the open door. The rain from earlier is still lightly falling outside. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight, The roof is leaking.” You tell him, hair pulled up into a sloppy bun and pillow creases on your cheek. “I woke up in a puddle, it's coming through the light fixture above the bed.”

Jake mumbles curses. He had been sleeping soundly and would have likely been able to sleep the whole night if the roof hadn’t leaked. He helps you move the bed and set up a big rubbermaid bin under the leak to catch the dripping water while you strip the wet bedding off the mattress and throw it in the bathtub. You flip the breaker and he carefully removes the light so the water can fall directly into the bin without pooling, you dutifully hold the flashlight.

After you follow him into the attic to see where the leak is. Fortunately it is only in one spot and the rain has slowed to a stop. Using the towels you had so neatly organized, you help him mop up all the water you can. You place another bin under the main leak but it has slowed to a drip. Working next to you in the dimly lit attic, Jake realizes he never would have noticed the leak so soon if not for you.

“When are they supposed to fix the roof?” Jake asks you.

“Monday,” you say sadly and he sighs. “If you leave all the information for me I’ll call the insurance company tomorrow.”

He follows you down the ladder with the wet towels and throws them into the washing machine. You follow with the towels from your room. Your teeth chattering and he looks at you for the first time and notices that your pajamas are soaking wet.

“Pip you're going to get sick, go change.” You roll your eyes at him but comply and grab a dry pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom so you can leave your wet ones in the tub. When you come out of the bathroom he meets you in the hall. “I dumped the bin in your room, we should be good to go back to sleep.” You nod but don't follow him; grabbing your pillow you turn to go into the living room.

“Where are you going?”

“The couch.” You stare at him in confusion. “My mattress is soaked.”

“Yeah but mine's not.” You stand there staring at him and he suddenly feels like he has overstepped. The look in your eye is unreadable but you just agree quietly and follow him. When he reaches the bed and you crawl in beside him he feels his stomach clench. He can't remember the last time he slept next to someone, it's been years, definitely before the nightmares started. What if he moves and hits you, or says something he doesn’t want you to hear?

It’s awkward. As soon as he lies down beside you he feels the need to move and eases himself over to his other side. He can hear you rolling over when he does. You don’t say anything but he can tell you are tense. Maybe he shouldn't have insisted you share his bed. “Do you want to build a pillow wall?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You roll over again and he can feel your eyes on him. “Good night Jake.”

“Goodnight.” You stop moving but he can tell you are not asleep by your breathing. He listens and tries not to move but he can’t sleep if you are awake. He feels the bed shift every time you move and shuffle your feet. He stares into the dark hyper aware of you beside him, pretending to sleep before he finally breaks the silence. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“My feet are cold,” you tell him. “I can’t sleep with cold feet.”

Jake bites back a sigh and says the thing he doesn’t want to do. “You can put them on me.”

Your soft laugh almost makes it worthwhile. “I don’t think you mean that,” you counter. And he reaches down to feel your feet and immediately regrets his decision when he feels how icy they are.

“Come on,” he says resignedly and urges you to roll over so you can press your feet to his warm legs. When you settle he finds himself focusing on your cold toes to distract himself from the warmth coming from your body lying beside him.

As your feet warm he can feel the tension leave you as you relax into sleep, your breath slowing and evening out and soon he finds himself drifting off as well.

– – –

Maverick is carrying a lifeless Rooster in his arms. He is standing in the desert. Rubble and fire from a destroyed building around him. Blood is dripping down Rooster's extended arm and steadily falling from his fingertips and onto the dry sand. Jake stands, blood pounding in his ears with every drop that hits the ground. Maverick is speaking to him in a language he can't understand, repeating the same phrase.

When he realizes it’s weird to see Maverick cradling Rooster so easily everything seems to blur and when it clears there is now a father holding his young son in front of him. The boy's eyes are open and staring blankly at the sky. The man speaks but it is Maverick's voice he hears, “You shot at the wrong time, his death is your fault Hangman.” The man advances towards him brandishing the body of his dead son repeating the words in Maverick’s voice, becoming angrier and more grief-stricken with every repetition as Jake retreats, his heart pounding, unable to escape.

– – –

“No!” Jake sits up gasping. His heart is hammering wildly as he tries to breathe. He feels like there is a weight on his chest, contracting his lungs and keeping his ribcage from expanding. The image of the boy burned into his retinas.

“Jake?” The soft sound of your voice startles him and he flinches when he sees you move before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Trying to rub away what he saw. Your hand is hesitant as it brushes against his back, gently moving and pressing his t-shirt into his sweat soaked skin. He wants to tell you to stop, that he doesn’t deserve comfort after what he did. He wants to get up and leave, but he doesn't. He just sits there frozen and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand smoothing over his spine as his breathing steadies. When the chill sets in he strips off the sweaty shirt and lies back down on his back.

“Nightmare?” you ask quietly already knowing the answer. He nods even though he is not sure you can see him. He’s told you about the nightmares, never why or what he sees but you know he has trouble sleeping. You're the only one who knows.

You lie on your side and he can feel your eyes in the dark. Unable to rub his back you place your hand on his chest and resume the relaxing motion. But the feel of your hand on his bare chest is too much and he stops you, flattening your hand to his heart. When you go to pull away he reaches up with his other hand and clutches your wrist, unwilling to let you go.

“Don’t go.” The words slip out before he can stop them and he clenches his jaw to keep from speaking more. He can feel you nod you head beside him. You slowly begin flexing your fingers and he relaxes the hand flattening yours and you begin to gently scratch his chest with your finger tips. He finally lets out a shuddering breath and shifts his grip on your wrist so he can feel your steady pulse.

“Breath with me,” you whisper. “Focus on my breaths.” he lies beside you and listens to you breathe and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand pressed to his heart and the gentle caress of your finger tips. He feels the butterfly kiss of your lips on his shoulder and his skin burns. Your soft breaths moves over his skin and his heart aches.

When your fingers stop moving he knows you are asleep but doesn’t let go of your hand, eventually he falls into a dreamless sleep listening to your soft breaths.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #topgun maverick #topgun hangman #top gun x reader #hangman topgun #topgun

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books · 8 months

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Writer Spotlight: Elise Hu

We recently met with Elise Hu (@elisegoeseast) to discuss her illuminating title, Flawless—Lessons in Looks and Culture from the K-Beauty Capital. Elise is a journalist, podcaster, and media start-up founder. She’s the host of TED Talks Daily and host-at-large at NPR, where she spent nearly a decade as a reporter. As an international correspondent, she has reported stories from more than a dozen countries and opened NPR’s first-ever Seoul bureau in 2015. Previously, Elise helped found The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit digital start-up, after stops at many stations as a television news reporter. Her journalism work has won the national Edward R. Murrow and duPont Columbia awards, among others. An honors graduate of the University of Missouri School of Journalism, she lives in Los Angeles.

Can you begin by telling us a little bit about how Flawless came to be and what made you want to write about K-beauty?

It’s my unfinished business from my time in Seoul. Especially in the last year I spent living in Korea, I was constantly chasing the latest geopolitical headlines (namely, North Korean leader Kim Jong Un’s big moves that year). It meant I didn’t get to delve into my nagging frustrations of feeling second-class as an Asian woman in Korea and the under-reported experiences of South Korean women at the time. They were staging record-setting women’s rights rallies during my time abroad in response to a stark gender divide in Korea. It is one of the world’s most influential countries (and the 10th largest economy) and ranks shockingly low on gender equality metrics. That imbalance really shows up in what’s expected of how women should look and behave. Flawless explores the intersection of gender politics and beauty standards.

Flawless punctuates reportage with life writing, anchoring the research within your subjective context as someone who lived in the middle of it but also had an outside eye on it. Was this a conscious decision before you began writing?

I planned to have fewer of my personal stories in the book, actually. Originally, I wanted to be embedded with South Korean women and girls who would illustrate the social issues I was investigating, but I wound up being the narrative thread because of the pandemic. The lockdowns and two years of long, mandatory quarantines in South Korea meant that traveling there and staying for a while to report and build on-the-ground relationships was nearly impossible. I also have three small children in LA, so the embedding plan was scuttled real fast.

One of the central questions the book asks of globalized society at large, corporations, and various communities is, “What is beauty for?” How has your response to this question changed while producing Flawless?

I think I’ve gotten simultaneously more optimistic and cynical about it. More cynical in that the more I researched beauty, the more I understood physical beauty as a class performance—humans have long used it to get into rooms—more power in relationships, social communities, economically, or all of the above at once. And, as a class performance, those with the most resources usually have the most access to doing the work it takes (spending the money) to look the part, which is marginalizing for everyone else and keeps lower classes in a cycle of wanting and reaching. On the flip side, I’m more optimistic about what beauty is for, in that I have learned to separate beauty from appearance: I think of beauty in the way I think about love or truth, these universal—and largely spiritual—ideas that we all seek, that feed our souls. And that’s a way to frame beauty that isn’t tied in with overt consumerism or having to modify ourselves at all.

This is your first book—has anything surprised you in the publishing or publicity process for Flawless?

I was most surprised by how much I enjoyed recording my own audiobook! I felt most in flow and joyful doing that more than anything else. Each sentence I read aloud was exactly the way I heard it in my head when I wrote it, which is such a privilege to have been able to do as an author.

Do you have a favorite reaction from a reader?

I don’t know if it’s the favorite, but recency bias is a factor—I just got a DM this week from a woman writing about how the book helped put into words so much of what she felt and experienced, despite the fact she is not ethnically Korean, or in Korea, which is the setting of most of the book. It means a lot to me that reporting or art can connect us and illuminate shared experiences…in this case, learning to be more embodied and okay with however we look.

As a writer, journalist, and mother—how did you practice self-care when juggling work commitments, social life, and the creative processes of writing and editing?

I juggled by relying on my loved ones. I don’t think self-care can exist without caring for one another, and that means asking people in our circles for help. A lot of boba dates, long walks, laughter-filled phone calls, and random weekend trips really got me through the arduous project of book writing (more painful than childbirth, emotionally speaking).

What is your writing routine like, and how did the process differ from your other reporting work? Did you pick up any habits that you’ve held on to?

My book writing routine was very meandering, whereas my broadcast reporting and writing are quite linear. I have tight deadlines for news, so it’s wham, bam, and the piece is out. With the book, I had two years to turn in a manuscript. I spent the year of lockdowns in “incubation mode,” where I consumed a lot of books, white papers, articles, and some films and podcasts, just taking in a lot of ideas to see where they might collide with each other and raise questions worth reporting on, letting them swim around in the swamp of my brain. When I was ready to write, I had a freelance editor, the indefatigable Carrie Frye, break my book outline into chunks so I could focus on smaller objectives and specific deadlines. Chunking the book so it didn’t seem like such a massive undertaking helped a lot. As for the writing, I never got to do a writer’s retreat or some idyllic cabin getaway to write. I wrote in the in-between moments—a one or two hour window when I had a break from the TED conference (which I attend every year as a TED host) or in those moments after the kids’ bedtime and before my own. One good habit I got into was getting away from my computer at midday. I’m really good about making lunch dates or going for a run to break up the monotony of staring at my screen all day long.

What’s good advice you’ve received about journalism that you would pass on to anyone just starting out?

All good reporting comes from great questions. Start with a clear question you seek to answer in your story, project, or book, and stay true to it and your quest to answer it. Once you are clear on what the thing is about, you won’t risk wandering too far from your focal point.

Thanks to Elise for answering our questions! You can follow her over at @elisegoeseast and check out her book Flawless here!

#writer spotlight #elise hu #flawless #k-beauty #beauty #beauty industry #feminism #gender politics #seoul #south korea #journalism #writing advice #reportage #flawlessthebook

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wildemaven · 9 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter Nine

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 8k

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Fluff, a kiss of angst, talk of past relationship and break up, pregnancy scare, mopey Poppy, nervousness and anxiety, brief mentions of sobriety, smut, self doubt, public speaking, reader has the nickname Poppy- zero physical description, to dumb dumbs in love

A/N: This is a doozy of a chapter, there was so much to pack in for these two. I can’t believe we’re nearing the end, I had definite moments of sadness as I was wrapping up this chapter but also found so inspiration to help tie up the story for these two! You can listen to Dieter & Poppy’s Playlist Here. Also a big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for constantly listening and helping me through this one, I definitely needed it on this chapter.

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous/ Epilogue

It had taken a few months for Dieter to tangle himself into your life.

Inching his way into your mind, settling deep within your bones and eventually finding shelter in the most sacred of places— your heart.

It took only a matter of a few short days for him to imprint himself into your home, pieces of him lingering in your space, even long after he had left.

But you can’t seem to pull yourself from the confines of your bed, each morning since his departure, you study the hollowed out spot where his worn body claimed as his, still having yet to find the energy to make it or wash the sheets clean of the hours of intensity and conversations ingrained into the plush pillow-top.

Your fingers run over the creases of the pillow, remembering how you would trace the same lines etched across his face in the early mornings, the usual scrunch between his brows smooth and relaxed, the faintest of snores escaping his parted lips— memorizing his angelic dreamy state.

A soft thread catches the path your finger continues to take. A silky strand of hair, no longer a part of him, now woven in through the fibers of your cotton pillowcase— proof he was here and existed in this space with you, with those unruly thick curls tousled with ardency, sweat and sleep— your fingers still managing to work through the wildness.

-Saturday Morning-

“What was your last serious relationship like?” Dieter asks, laying on his side with an arm bent, head propped on his hand, your bed sheet draped over his naked lower half.

His free hand mapping out the plains of your exposed skin, the morning sun filters through your bedroom window, providing a soft muted light as his fingers continue to unearth new details of your body he has yet to see in daylight.

“Oof! Hitting me with the serious stuff first thing in the morning.” The rasp of sleep still coating your throat, your body turned in close towards him with one arm tucked between your pillow and resting head, your free hand mesmerized by the texture of his skin— connecting invisible lines between each freckle painted across his neck and chest.

“Question for a question then. But you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s— just a lot for some people to hear. Kind of just keep it to myself, less questions and ‘how come’ once they find out.”

“Hey, I won’t judge you, for anything you tell me— ever.”

Dieter watches the way your eyes flit about for a few seconds, his hand stopping to rest on your naked hip with a gentle squeeze, a reassuring gesture of sincerity in his words.

“Frankie was my high school sweetheart, we started dating our senior year. We were together— gosh…. 5, almost 6 years.” You let out a sigh, all the memories of your previous relationship flooding back to you, having been locked away for so long.

“After high school, when we realized things were getting serious, we decided to figure out what we wanted moving forward. We were on the same page with everything for the most part, no real deal breakers. We would get married after college, buy a house— a seemingly cookie cutter life together.”

“I’m not following— sounds like the perfect life to me.” Confusion settles across his forehead, brows drawn together as he studies your face.

“Except, I couldn’t give him the one thing he wanted— kids.” You notice the way his face drops when you say it, knowing his first thought is exactly what everyone else usually assumes when you tell them.

“I guess I should rephrase that— I didn’t want, don’t want kids. It was something we established too, both on board with living a childless life. We agreed we would be the best Aunt and Uncle for our friend’s kids.”

Dieter nods at your admission, the hand on your hip starting to leave feather-like strokes the length of your side, goosebumps scattering across your warm skin.

“It wasn’t until we were well into our relationship that things changed. We had a bit of a pregnancy scare, we were both very careful too, so it was a bit of a shock when it happened. I was angry with myself— how could I let it happen? What did I do wrong? All the things running through my head the minute I saw those pink lines, wondering how we were going to afford a baby on our combined income, all while trying to get through finishing college— I spiraled pretty hard for a good week. But, through some routine testing, we discovered it was a false-positive— I was so fucking relieved!”

Your fingers still over the hollow of his neck, taking a deep breath, not really sure how Dieter is taking everything you’re saying.

“In the midst of my inner turmoil over the thought of being pregnant, I hadn’t really checked in with Frankie to see where his head was at, I had just assumed he was riding the same boat as me.”

“He changed his mind?” He asks.

“Yeah— or it was what he had always wanted, he just didn’t realize it until that week, when it was almost a possibility.”

“So you broke up?”

“We stayed together for another year afterwards, thinking we could work through it. But I couldn’t keep that from him, it would have eaten me alive being the reason he wasn’t 100% happy. We decided it was best if we split.” You can’t help the smile that starts to develop, Dieter’s receptive demeanor made this whole moment feel a little less heavier than you thought it would be.

“I ended up running into Frankie a few years ago. We caught up and I learned he ended up joining the army, Special Forces I think, met his wife while saving her from some bar creep, always the chivalrous one— and they have two little girls. I like to think we both ended up where we were supposed to be.”

There’s a prick of something that ricochets across his chest— the pairing of unaltered reverence and adoration. You just want the best for others, and it shows even in how not that long ago how you went to battle for Diem out of pure love, wanting the best for her and Wren— he respects you so much now looking back on it.

Dieter leans over and places a few soft kisses to your lips, the last one lingering a little longer before pulling away to rest his forehead on yours.

“Thank you, for sharing that with me.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Of course. My question now— What about you? Do you want kids?” You ask.

Dieter gently pushes you to your back, settling himself between your legs, peering down at you with a soft smile.

“I’ll only ever be Uncle Dude— never had the desire to be a dad.”

His head dips down to your still bare chest, the few kitten-like licks before he takes your nipple into his mouth, scorching and persistent, causing your back to arch up into him, eyes fluttering closed and mouth wide as you emit a breathless whine.

A few intense sucking motions before he gives your breast an experimental bite, his eyes observing the way your body writhes at the juxtaposition of sensations before releasing it with a pop, blowing a stream of cold air across your wet skin and watching the way your nipple instantly tightens.

He crawls up your body, one arm resting next to your head as the other snakes down between your bodies taking hold of his now hardened cock, a few quick strokes before he’s notching the head at your now dripping entrance.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like partaking in the act.” His words punctuated by him fully sheathing himself into your cunt.

“Oh fuck! Dieter—“ Your laugh quickly exchanged for a heady moan.

Your bodies meld together in a heated indulgence. The slippery grip of dewy skin as your bodies work in a synergistic fashion, calculated snapping of hips take you both to a climactic level of bliss.

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

The vibration of your phone against your nightstand draws you back from the reliving of your weekend with Dieter, interrupting the playlist streaming through the phone speaker.

You grab your phone to check who the message is from…

Mom ❤️: Hey Sweetheart! Let me know when you’re heading over. Going to sit by the pool for a bit until then. This place is beautiful, I might not ever leave! Talk to you soon!

The music promptly picks back up again with its uptempo beat, you connect your phone to your speakers in the living room, the words floating brightly in the background as you will yourself out of bed.

In route to a much needed cup of coffee, you pull on the fuzzy warm jacket that seems to have established itself as an essential element in your daily life, dropping your phone in its cavernous pocket before bringing the fleecy fabric to your face for a brief moment. It’s a cognitive experience, the inhalation of the still drenched in his signature Dieter-musk, making your insides gooey and flustered.

‘Ooh, I lose control, can't seem to get enough, uh-huh

When I wake from dreaming, tell me is it really love?’

You chuckle into your cup as you take that first sip, the words a flawless depiction, and complete coincidence of every morning this week.

A quick text back to your mom to fill her in on the day’s plans.

Poppy: Hi Mom! Had a bit of a slow morning, but I’m up and moving now! Going to shower and get ready. I thought we could go to this new sandwich shop that just opened. I've been wanting to try it. I’ll text you when I’m on my way to the hotel. Love you

Your mom had gotten in late last night, still having not seen her yet. Diem was so kind to put her up in the Capri for the weekend, your mom insisting she didn’t want to intrude and give you space.

It was her first time visiting since you had moved, but not her first time to Ojai. She had visited on numerous occasions in her travels before having you, it was usually a brief stop for a few hours to grab a quick bite and then off to her next stop.

As a child, you would spend hours browsing through her endless collection of photo albums, dreaming up your own stories about visiting her favorite places— grainy Kodak Portra 160 was her film of choice, the color grading and light leaks adding to the cinematized scenes. There was something alluring about Ojai, always spending a little extra time with those images, it had become your ‘one day I am going to move there’ place. So, when you had started actually considering moving, your mind instantly went to Ojai— it was a no-brainer this was the place you were meant to set your roots in.

A slow sip of the ambered liquid trickles down your throat, its atomic structure hitting every nerve as it slowly expands in your veins, giving you the ample amount of energy to keep you from crawling right back in bed.

A thrumming piano tune dances across the room, instantaneously reliving the moment you coerced Dieter to add it to your growing playlist, selfishly you hope the familiar high falsetto voice evokes the same memory for Dieter as it does for you when he shuffles through the songs.

Just a small town girl

Livin' in a lonely world

She took the midnight train going anywhere

Just a city boy

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train going anywhere

-Sunday Afternoon-

“Add. The. Song. Dieter!” A purely joking dramatic version of yourself pleads with him, you sense the song isn’t a front-runner for Dieter, but you’re enjoying the banter it’s causing.

The popular chorus continues roaring through the living room where you’ve both been camped out for the last hour, switching off listening to music on bith your record player and Dieter’s Spotify account.

It felt silly when you suggested you both should create a compilation of songs that you could listen to and think of the other person— complete cheeseball move. It was reminiscent of junior high when you would download songs off shady sites and then burn the perfect cd mix for your crush, labeling it— I really like you but I’m not good with words, so here’s some songs instead— the cover art hand drawn sharpie doodles and emo quotes that could bring a 15 year old girl in love to tears. Being it was modern times, Dieter opted for a playlist of top favorite songs between the two of you, dubbing it ‘Dieter’s & Poppy’s Mix Tape.’

He wants to engrain this scene in his mind forever, your naked form cloaked in his beloved brown jacket, dancing around your living room, belting the lyrics in the most out of tune way.

“Streetlights, people!— Dieter, please! You said our favorite songs— this would be a favorite of mine! Add the damn song!!”

“This— This is your favorite song? It’s like the most overplayed karaoke song in the history of music” His cocked eyebrow as he holds his phone with the Spotify app open in his lap, finding it hard to hold off his growing smirk and not surprised in the least that it’s a top pick for you.

“I’ll have you know, I am the reigning Karaoke Queen, west of the Mississippi River— you're in the presence of royalty, Babe. Don't stop believin' Hold on to that feelin'!” Grabbing another slice of cold pizza from the half eaten box on the coffee table, you continue twirling about on your tippy toes, maintaining your off-key singing between bites.

“Something tells me your full of shit. Fine— It’s added. But I’m adding ‘You Need to Calm Down’ for tax.”

“I need to do what?” Your twirling ceases, the bottom of his jacket swaying about as you watch the way he stares down at his phone, fingers pecking at the screen.

“No— it’s a song. According to Wren, “it’s a Taylor Swift masterpiece!’” His air quotes and deadpan expression almost take you out.

“Never would have pegged you as a Swiftie, but I love it.”

“Well, it’s all she wants to listen to on the drive to school. I can’t help it if i know every word to almost every song.”

The next song plays through, Dieter continues to watch you from his spot on the couch, loving the carefree manner in which you move, your infectious smile on display as you sing along to a song you definitely do not know a single word to, eyes closed and arms stretched out letting the chorus fully envelop your mind— this whole moment solidifying his love for you.

He brings his phone up and snaps a few pictures, each image progressively blurrier as he tries to capture you dancing, his last attempt is more or less successful, the timing just right and the result an accurate depiction of how he wants look back on this time together— a flash of your beaming smile that causes your eyes to crinkle at the edges and your audacious desire to be completely yourself in front of him is a picture worth taking.

“Are you taking a picture of me?” Breathless and smiling.

“Guilty. I need something to remember this day while I’m away.”

“Okay, but take a better one then.”

Grabbing his sunglasses off the table to situate them on your face, your bare leg crossed over and kicked out to the side in an ameture Radio City Rockette fashion, middle fingers erect while your hands cover your now exposed breasts, a one-sided nose scrunch and curled lip with some semblance of a smile, all while the remaining slice of your pizza dangles from your mouth.

“Beautiful, just like the other ones.” His chest vibrates at the sight of you, he pats his thighs motioning for you to come over to where he’s seated. “Alright Karaoke Queen, get your sexy little Believin’ ass over here!”

Tossing your crust back into the pizza box, you skip-hop over to him, your knees sinking into the cushions of the couch as you straddle his boxer clad lap. His hands sliding under where his Jacket is splayed open, his warm touch glides over your thighs.

“Let me see— the others, please.” You ask timidly, not sure what ‘others’ entails, pulling his sunglasses off and tossing them to the side.

His thumb swipes and presses across his phone screen, then hands you an open folder of images, tiny intimate squares fill the screen. You click on the most recent ones of you here in your home, laughing at how ridiculous you think you look, glancing up to see Dieter’s head tilted to the side and his gaze fixed on you. Refocusing on his phone, you start swiping, so many images of times you had spent together, except you're the main focus of each photo, very much unaware of your photo being taken.

There was the afternoon spent baking cupcakes for no reason other than they sounded delicious. Flour covering the surface of the counter, while you and Wren laugh at something completely unrelated to the making of said cupcakes— equal amounts of flour coating both your hands and faces.

There’s the backyard dinner Diem had invited you over for. You were seated across from where Dieter and Diem were sitting, listening intently to something she was saying. The sun warm against your back as it had started its descent, your elbow propped on the table and chin resting on your hand, your attention focused on every aspect of the conversation.

The first evening Dieter and Wren had attended your art class together, a few of you talking about something art related and then a couple of you actually painting and drawing— your face naturally lighting up at you sharing art with others.

Each swipe revealed another image, so many of you smiling while looking off at whatever had your attention, full body laughs shared with someone out of frame, deep in thought or absorbed into something you were reading or looking at on your phone.

Seeing your life candidly curated in a digital collection of photos has so many emotions whirling through your mind, love being the most prominent one.

Your breath hitches when you scroll to the last image in the folder.

You're at the front of your classroom, a stack of papers tucked against your chest as your smile beams out to your class. You note your outfit isn’t your usual uniform, you're wearing your favorite band tee, jeans and sneakers— it’s the morning you were late and Dieter stepped in to help you out, bringing a sense of ease to your disarray of a morning.

“I think that was one of the moments I knew.” Dieter’s smoky voice cuts into the air, pointing at the image you’ve been studying a little longer than the others.

“Knew what?” Looking up from the phone to see his chestnut eyes twinkling with adoration, his hands gently rubbing against your hips.

“Knew that I needed you in my life, however that was.”

“There were others?”

“Your art class was another.”

There’s a beat of silence between you, the start of the next song picking up its pace.

“Do you ever imagine what it would be like if we would have met each other sooner than we did?” Something you’ve thought about at times, wishing you had more time with him, maybe if you had met sooner. Your fingers trace along the ridge of his collarbone as you wait for his answer.

“No— you would have definitely deserved better than who I was back then. You would have hated the thought of being in the same room as me.”

He wouldn’t have been anything close to who he is now, grateful you were never fully subjected to the asshole he used to be.

Your hand settles on his bare chest, right where his heart is beating fiercely.

“I deserve you now though. And I definitely want to be in every room you walk into.”

‘Tears stream down your face

I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

Tears stream down your face, and I

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you’

Your lips meet his in an unhurried embrace, Dieter pulling your lower body closer to his, his fingers digging into the meat of your backside when your hips start to gradually begin to grind against him, his cock hardening with each brush of your wet cunt.

His hands create their own intimate paths over your body, one traveling up the length of your spine, the other moving to the underside of your breast, cupping the supple weight of it in his palm. A swipe of his thumb over your sensitive nipple has you gasping into his mouth, the catalyst for your silent plea for more— and he hears it loud and clear.

His hands. His mouth. His cock— all working in perfect, articulate motions. Until you’re succumbing to the culmination of purposeful exertion and precise execution.

The last 48 hours were spent with Dieter's departure looming in the background of your minds, not allowing yourselves to stew on the impending heartache that was to come the moment you said your goodbyes.

Between the hours of relaxed conversations and alleviating desirous needs, you both managed to get through the weekend with a strong sense of optimism about the future. A shared commitment to each other, with endless promises of check-ins whenever possible and working out a plan to see each other once Dieter had his schedule set, it was enough to keep the sadness at bay— it gave you something to look forward to.

The afternoon slowly began to bleed into your final evening together, tangled limbs and intimate memories treated with exactness, fueling hushed whispers of ‘I love yous’ embedding themselves into every single part of your soul.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You hadn’t been expecting anyone, the rapid knock on your front door was a complete surprise.

After confirming your name with the sweet delivery lady, she hands off the beautiful dried floral arrangement, mentioning a card was tucked into the center, wishing you a great rest of your day before driving away.

You had never seen anything like it before, an incredible assortment of dried flowers, stems and oversized leaves arranged meticulously in a ceramic vase.

Placing the flowers on the kitchen counter, you pull the small card from it, reading the small written note:

Poppy, I’m so proud of you! You’re so talented and I can’t wait to hear how tonight goes. Love you, Dieter

You smile at his thoughtfulness, missing him so much and needing to hear his voice desperately.

Pulling your phone from the coat pocket, you dial his number and hope there’s a chance you catch him at a good time.

“Hello.” There’s warmth in the way his voice cracks through the phone.

“Hi. I just got the flowers— they’re absolutely beautiful, Dieter. Thank you!”

“I can’t take full credit. Nessa, my assistant, said you might like them, something about them lasting forever. Anyways, she set up the order while I was in a meeting.”

“Well, I’ll have to thank her at some point then.” There’s some static carrying through the line as you continue your conversation.

“How are you feeling about today?”

“Good. Just finally pulled myself out of bed. Going to get dressed, then have lunch with my mom before I get ready for tonight. I miss you, Dieter.”

There’s a brief moment where it sounds like the call cuts out, looking at the screen you see it’s still counting up the call minutes, still connected.

“I— you too. ‘Ant wait— it goes….”

“Dieter?…Hello? Babe, your phone keeps cutting out.”

*Call Dropped*

The connection was lost, conversation cut short, staring at a now black phone screen.

Poppy💐: Your service must be shitty or something, couldn’t hear most of what you were saying. Call me when you can. Love you 💜

You attach a photo of the flowers along with your message. Knowing if he was in a bad service area, you wouldn’t be getting an immediate response, so you take that as your cue to get yourself ready.

Poppy: Getting dressed! Should be leaving here in 20 minutes. See you in a bit mom! 😘

Your mom’s presence was exactly what you needed today. Seeing her sitting across from you now makes you feel less overwhelmed by the fact that your boyfriend isn’t here and you’re hours away from sharing this passion project of yours, something so intimate and personal, with a room full of art loving strangers.

But even in her presence, you still find your mind wandering— Dieter being the central character of your deviating thoughts— even things outside your home, the smallest of details, reminding you of him in some way.

Bart’s across the street, a favorite spot for both of you, especially after the talk you both shared coming to an understanding and moving forward together with a new perspective on each other.

Someone walking by, where your mom and you are sitting together on the restaurant patio, was carrying a merchant bag from a store you had bought Dieter’s birthday present. There was a gold colored velvet button up shirt cover in a large geometric print that you had seen while out shopping with Diem one weekend, she had made the offhand comment that it was totally something Dieter would wear and when you had found out a few days later that Dieter’s birthday was the following weekend, you immediately went back to buy it for him.

You had also thrown in a pair of tiny Frozen charms, Elsa for Wren and Olaf for Dieter, for the Crocs you had seen him wear around Diem’s house on movie nights, in the chance he hated the shirt you knew he was a sucker for kitschy gifts— by the way he wears the shirt regularly, it’s fair to assume he likes it.

You even think of him in the most laughable ways too, like when a car similar to his drives by the restaurant, you of course immediately think of him— you find yourself to be a lost cause at this point.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart, I’m sure Dieter would love to be here if he could. Aside from him leaving, how was the rest of the week after he left?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked how’s your week been? We haven’t talked much since last week.”

“Oh my gosh, Mom! I’m so sorry— I’m literally the worst person to be around right now, I’m sure. I’ve been so in my head lately, I can’t even think straight.” You cover your face as you apologize for being lackluster company to her, realizing you’ve spent most of lunch off in La-La-Land.

“My week was good though. With summer break starting last week, I spent most of this wrapping up last minute grading and finishing up paperwork. Monday and Tuesday I went to clean up my classroom, just mainly clearing out old projects and lesson plans from the past year. Which then left me the rest of the week to get my canvases prepared and hung up over at Reverie, where the art opening is tonight.”

“Sounds like it’s kept your mind off of Dieter not being able to be there tonight.” She gives you a sympathetic look, and it makes you feel so appreciative that she flew out to be here for you.

“If I’m being honest, it really hasn’t. I just selfishly keep wishing he didn’t have leave so I could have more time with him. And then I hate myself for even thinking that, because I’m so happy and proud of him— he deserves this, I just miss him so much. We’ve tried to talk and FaceTime when we can, but his schedule right now has been busy, so I just sit and wait for him to call most evenings. God, I sound ridiculous!” A slight crack to your voice as you’re overcome with emotion, it’s sadness and happiness all wrapped up in a perfect little box sitting in your chest, lifting your chin up as you fight back the tears that threaten to break.

“Oh, honey.” She passes you a few clean napkins, noticing the few tears that managed to escape. “Maybe give him a call in a bit, I’m sure hearing his voice will help you feel better.”

“Yeah, I’ll give him a call when I get home. Thanks mom. I’m so glad you’re here! Let’s talk about something else, bring the mood back up. How’s retirement going?” Changing the subject to hopefully suppress your mopey demeanor, dabbing your wet cheeks lightly.

“Oh, it’s great! I’ve actually been thinking about doing some traveling now that I have all this time.”

“I love that for you mom. You should go, see the world— you deserve it.”

She shared about the places she had already started planning to visit— in and around Canada, parts of Europe, then several areas of South America. You greedily wished she didn’t want to go, feeling a steady wave of emotions rock through you at the thought of her being gone for so long. But, you know how much traveling means to her, it’s pure joy watching the way she can’t stop smiling as she shows you landmark places she’ll be visiting— a true testament to chase after the things you love.

Doubt.

Fear.

Trepidation.

A war of anxieties. Ruthless, belligerent intruders, battling for control and power. Your mind slowly forfeits, white flag in waiting, ready to surrender yourself to the helm of your own enemies.

Even with the excitement surrounding tonight, you hadn’t really mastered the art of calming intrusive thoughts and apprehension once they began to build their way into your consciousness.

There’s the brief moment where you consider getting back into your car and driving home— rid yourself of the stress and anxiety that is overcoming you at the thought of being the center of attention tonight— albeit your art the main focus, but with that will come talking about yourself and it has you ready to bail.

But, you had put so much time and effort into this collection, executing and curating an intimate journey of discovery in the form of detailed lines and brush strokes that make up a whole series of paintings you are incredibly proud of.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Dieter comes to mind, the words he shared with you before he left:

“You were made for this, it’s who you are and it’s what you know— don’t let you be the reason you stop chasing what you deserve. I believe in everything you do, you should too.”

His words wash over you, each one forging a path for you to conquer your reluctance to seek out something that you have always dreamed of doing.

You pull out your phone to shoot Dieter a quick text before heading into the gallery.

Poppy💐: Hi! I miss you and wish you were here ❤. Hope you had a great day. I’ll have Diem take pictures to send you later. Call me when you can. Love you xo

Remembering back to when Dieter had shared something he does when his anxiety starts to surface, deciding to take a minute to borrow his technique to help ground your thoughts.

You see the vibrant lights from the front windows of Reverie Studio, the way the moon is peeking out from behind the building making its way through the sky, the streak of lights from headlights of passing cars, blurred bodies of people milling around the streets unbothered by you rooted in the center of the sidewalk, the time stamped over an image of you and Dieter as the lock screen on your phone.

You feel the weight of your phone leaving your hand as you drop it in your purse, the flowy dress that you picked out with Diem a few weeks ago specifically for this evening, a folded piece of paper with notes for the small speech you were going to give, a good luck charm in the form of Dieter’s 1 year chip clutched tightly into your hand.

You hear the muted chatter of the early birds spilling from the open door of the gallery, the mingling musical instruments in the local park showering concert goers with an original melodic song, an indistinguishable mix of hello’s and goodbye’s wrapped around gossip filled phone conversations.

You smell the sweet-vanilla-waffle confections of the little ice cream shop that stays open late during the summer, a hint of a smokey musk dusting the air reminding you of the woody spicy that’s so distinctly Dieter.

You taste the delicate flavors of a savory future, one that has a palatable balance of sweetness and verve— something so delectable that you don’t think you’ll be able to stop reveling in its richness.

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Your immediate thought is it’s Dieter, pulling out your phone to see it’s instead Diem.

Diem: Are you going to stand out there all night?? Get your ass in here!

She’s standing in the window with Wren on her hip, both of them waving at you.

Feeling a somewhat renewed sense of confidence, you wait for a break in the passing cars and jog across the street to join the crowd already forming inside.

You’re completely taken aback once you’re through the front door, not by the overwhelming number of people who showed up to view your work, but by how the room is filled with a plethora of vases overflowing with poppies.

The edges of the room, table tops, display pedestals all covered in a sea of pinks, oranges and pale yellow flowers.

“So glad you could show up!” Diem and Wren wrap you in a joint hug, a warm greeting with a touch of her special sarcasm.

“Where did all these flowers come from? They weren’t here yesterday when I stopped in to do some final touches.”

“A certain someone might have wanted to surprise you with something special.”

There’s an immediate pang in your chest, his thoughtfulness and his way of showing support by filling the studio space with your favorite flowers, you have to actively fight off the urge to cry tears of happiness.

You snap a few photos, focusing on the ones that sit below where your canvases are hung on the fabricated display walls.

You can’t contain the smile plastered across your face, seeing your work being admired by those in attendance, getting a chance to catch up with friends and fellow artists and having your mom close by listening to her talk up your talent with complete strangers— all still while wishing Dieter were here bask in the excitement with you.

“If I could have everyone’s attention please.” The owners ask, the room’s noise quickly reduced to a curbed level. “We thank everyone for coming to show their support for this wonderful event. We’ll have her share more about it with you and then we’d like to say a few words afterwards.”

Applause breaches the silence as you’re beckoned to the center of the room, your paper of scribbled notes in one hand and Dieter’s chip in the other, making your way to the front of the mass of people.

You introduce yourself as you take in all the faces, some familiar and some new, Diem and your mom in a side embrace with Wren to the front of them, each person enthralled and eager to hear you share more about you and the art behind you.

“Art has always been a part of me, in so many different ways. Growing up I would tear apart my mom’s magazines to make collages of pretty pictures, sorry mom.” Glancing down at your paper as a wave of soft laughter filters around, it elicits a surge of excitement and sureness blooms somewhere deep in your soul, deciding to for-go reading anything you had written and just share from the heart.

“And then I got my first sketchbook, that thing never left my side. Always with me at school, trips to the grocery store and even on days when my mom worked late, I’d sit in the corner of her classroom and just draw— creating little scenes from memory. I filled the pages rather quickly too, pages were barely hanging on with the amount of wear and tear I had put it through. Before I knew it, I had amassed a collection of sketchbooks and canvases over the years. Art has always been a part of who I am and I think it always will be.”

Everyone seemed so fascinated by everything you’re sharing. Explaining the story behind your collection— starting as a literal dream and slowly becoming a now etched on canvas reality.

Even the collaborative piece with Dieter is hung among the others, you went the extra step to add his name onto the little artist placard:

Artists: Dieter & Poppy

Title: ‘Sweet Creature’

Medium: Acrylic on Canvas

$: (Not For Sale)

“Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to be here tonight, I appreciate it so very much, I’ll be around the rest of the evening to chat more or answer any questions. And thank you to Reviere Studio, you’ve become like a second home to me. I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to share my love for the arts with the many who attended my classes in this very space, but also to be the last art showing truly means so much to me. I will miss you all.”

Another round of applause and cheers fill the open space. You feel like it went pretty well for how nervous you were earlier in the evening, not really sure why you were doubting yourself to begin with.

The crowd slowly starts to disperse as you start to weave to where Diem, your mom and Wren are standing, getting stopped for hugs and hellos from former class attendees, congratulatory remarks for complete strangers too— you’re even shocked when Betty and Marilyn stop to share their well wishes with you.

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart, it’s all so amazing!” Your mom wraps you in praises and a tight hug.

“Thank you mom, I’m so happy you could be here!”

“I’m happy to be here too!” Wren’s excitement is barely containable as she bounces off the floor.

“I’m so happy you’re here too Wren!” You tell her as you bend down to give her a hug as well.

Standing back to your full height, you turn to Diem and just wrap your arms around her shoulders and hold her close, she returns the same energy.

“Thank you so much for everything, you are literally the best friend I could have ever asked for. I love you so much Diem!”

“God dammit, Poppy! I didn’t wear any waterproof mascara because I wasn’t planning on crying tonight! I love you too!” She pulls away and starts fanning her face, drying up the tears that had started to fill her eyes.

“Excuse me! We have a quick, exciting announcement to make before the evening continues with drinks and appetizers.” The sweet owner Susi’s voice boomed out to the guests.

Dieter doesn’t like lying, not in general at least and especially not to you— open and honest is how he continues to move forward with his life.

But this doesn’t feel like a lie, in a sense. A secret. A surprise.

Taking this role meant sacrificing his time away and that terrified him, especially being his first project to jump back into.

After a call with his agent on the drive back to LA Monday morning and a check in with his sponsor, Dieter requested a meeting with the movie’s higher ups.

That meeting didn’t happen until a few days later, but when he found out filming would be held in and around LA, Dieter learned his request for weekends to travel back to Ojai was successful.

That gave him less than 24 hours to get flowers ordered to be delivered to the gallery, let Diem in on his plan to ensure everything was in motion, all while you had no idea what was happening.

Dieter settles in the back of the crowd, tucked out of sight, finding it difficult to keep his eyes off you as you stand up there.

Watching you share about your life and how art has always been a big part of it, the two of you so similar in many ways makes him feel a deeper connection to you.

He recognizes the paper you’ve started crumpled into your hand, worn and creased from the repetitive folding and unfolding, scarred by the cross-hatching over abandoned words or shelved sentences, bullet points of importance to add substance to your speech. He likes the version you who was pacing around her living room Sunday morning, paper in one hand and pen in the other, reciting each line with a fluctuating ambivalent tone, stopping intermittently at the coffee table to rework a line or add something he had suggested. But he loves this version of you standing before him right now, no hesitation in your words, speaking with certainty and feeling— you were more than prepared.

The way you wear your confidence stirs something inside of him— trying his best to keep a low profile, because all he wants to do is scoop you up and kiss you breathless, to tell you over and over, how perfect and amazing he thinks you are.

He notices the light catching something you’re intently smoothing your fingers over, tracing repeatedly over every word— It’s not going to be easy, but it’s going to be worth it— engraved on his 1 year chip, a habit he’s welcomed into his daily routine. You had refused to take it from him when he offered it, not wanting him to be without it longer than necessary, but he had vowed to take it back the moment you were reunited. Placing it in your palm, hinting at the streak of luck it had brought him over the past year, ensuring that it would do the same for you— but he knew you wouldn’t need any.

He wants more of this— more time with you. To feel immersed back into this normal paced life and experience the joys that you feel regularly.

He has to shuffle himself around a bit when the crowd starts to move about, still trying to not be seen, watching you celebrate post speech with your mom, Diem and Wren— eagerly wanting to do the same.

The gallery owner’s announcement signals the beginning of something exciting.

He just hopes you’re as ecstatic about what’s about to be revealed as he is.

Susi takes a moment for everyone to quiet down and focus their attention on her before continuing her speech.

“Earlier this year, we had made the difficult decision to close our doors— deciding it was time to seek out a new chapter with new adventures and close this chapter on Reverie Studio.”

You’re sandwiched between Diem and your mom, hands intertwined as your head rests on Diem’s shoulder, somber as Susi’s heartfelt words about the studio’s closing.

“But we have some exciting news to share with you all. The gallery and studio are now under new ownership and will continue to stay open. It will be under a new name, but will still retain what Reverie had previously been known for— classes, art openings, studio space. And while we’re sad to hand it over, we’re excited to see it continue to serve the community.”

The delighted commotion pours out into the streets, catching the attention of passersby’s curiosity.

“So, we welcome you to the new home of Les Coquelicots Studio. The new owner is somewhere here in the audience too.” Heads begin to turn, seeking out where this mysterious owner is, when Susi points towards the back of the room and waves. “Ah, there he is. Please be sure to make him feel welcome and thank him before you leave. Thank you all again for coming and have a wonderful rest of the night.”

Music begins to brim over the conversations that start to pick up, guests dispersing to fill their small plates with finger foods and refilling of drinks, ambling about observing your artwork and surrounding art pieces.

But you're too focused on the fact that you had no idea that the space wasn’t closing, as you continue turning about scanning the room for the new owner.

Everything stills.

No sound.

No horde of people.

Just him.

Dieter Bravo.

All Dieter-like too, leaning against the back wall, hands secure in his pockets, the slightest tick of his jaw punctuating his dimple.

Your brain is actively working to re-hardwire your body to function properly, but you’re motionless. Speechless.

He’s here, propelling himself forward and making his way to you, even as he stands before you, it doesn’t feel real.

“Surprise.” His voice nearly takes you out, it hasn’t been that long since you had last spoken, but you’ve missed its gravely tone so much.

“What are you doing here? I thought— I don’t know what I thought because I can’t think straight at the moment. How are you here?” Dizzy with total surprise and confusion.

He leans in, laughing at your flustered smile, hands slinking their way to your face, his touch charged with fervor as his thumbs sweep over the apples of your cheeks.

“Came to see my girl.” He smiles softly, his words a breath away from where you want him most.

You close the distance between you, his lips fitting perfectly against yours, unbothered by the room full of people around you. You knew you would never get that same feeling or experience like with your first kiss, but this is second best and you welcome it fully.

Before the kiss has a chance to turn into something more than what is appropriate for the setting, you pull away, resting your forehead on his, breathless and happy.

“It’s you isn’t it— You bought this place?” The answer is clear as you look into his warm eyes.

“I did.”

“Les Coquelicots? Monet’s painting?”

“Poppies.”

This is it. Your forever. With him. Always.

“I know how much this place means to you, think of it as a thank you— for giving me a chance, for believing in me.”

“You didn’t have to buy me an art gallery as a thank you, dinner would have been fine.” Your fingers catching the rampant tears streaming down your cheeks, emitting a breathy laugh.

“We can go to dinner after this then.” His words mumbled in a kiss against your forehead.

“You still didn’t answer my question— How are you here? What about your movie?”

“When I found out we would be shooting locally in LA, I told them I had one request— that I was able to go home every weekend if I wasn’t needed on set.”

“But your home is already there?”

“I’m selling my home in West Hollywood— my realtor is getting it ready to be listed next week, hopefully moved out by the end of the month. So I can move home.”

It goes without saying that you know what he means, but you want to hear him say it out loud.

“Do you mean here? You’ll be moving here?”

He nods his head in response.

“What if this place gets too boring for a big movie star like yourself?” Biting your lip with a hint of a smile.

“Poppy— wherever I go, you bring me home.”

The kiss is short, but full of a warmth you crave when he’s in your presence, your arms linking around his neck as he pulls flush against, white knuckle grip on your hips— the two you lost in each other as the work around you carries on.

“Hmm— so, you’re gonna move in with Diem permanently?”

“Nah, I’ll find some place eventually.” He winks, no real rush to move in together, but he sees it as an option at some point in the future.

“Well, if you’re over living with your sister, I have a comfortable couch with your name all over it.” You snort at your offer.

“Poppy, I’m not sleeping on your fucking couch.”

“Suit yourself then.” You mirror his wink before pulling him in for another string of small pecks.

“I love you, Dieter.”

“I love you too, Poppy”

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo #dieter x poppy #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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ebaybears · 1 year

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Rainbow Furby Deepdive

Now that I've decided my website is a sea slug fansite (long story) I don't have anywhere to put my rainbow furby research. I considered putting it in a youtube video, but decided to post it to tumblr instead.

Anyway, here it is! The forbidden furby lore.

On the 14th of June 2016 supersonicmario0770 made a post on the adoptafurby forums. The thread was titled "Rainbow Furby?" and included a link to an archived ebay listing.

"I have never seen one of these before or where it came from. I can't find it when I look it up, no sign of it anywhere online but this ebay listing. It's pink with rainbow ears, hair, and chest."

At first most forum members thought it was a customized furby with dyed fur, although some thought it could be an unknown prototype. While the ebay listing is unarchived, we know roughly what it said.

On the 15th aibo7m3 posted this:

"I would err on the side of caution and and say that it's probably a custom too, but the seller's story is that this furby was an employee gift given to some of the members at tiger electronics (including her husband)."

Two weeks later on July 6th furbyandchips made a forum post, providing pictures of their own rainbow furby.

"My friend bought me the other rainbow furby the seller on ebay was selling. Identical to this one. I do not believe it to be fake or custom made. I have inspected it closely and the bottom of the box was open, so the inside cardboard can be removed, but the furby is still attached to the cardboard and didn't look tampered with. All tags are present and in mint condition. Everything is as it should be and looks like it was made in a factory and not customized by someone. The seller told my friend the same story which I believe to be true going by the fact the other furby she bought with it was only furby number 4 of that release, which makes me think it could of been someone who worked for tiger to have such a early one. This furby is in a regular box but if you look at some of the other special editions they too were in regular boxes."

Three years later, on the 19th of January 2019 furbyandchips provided an update on their website heyfurby.com.

"Hello Furby Fans! To start off our new blog, I thought I would write about a very interesting Furby in our collection. I do not know her Furby name as I have never switched her on, she is still attached to the cardboard base from the factory. We decided to name her May May, which means Love ;-)

A good friend found May May on Ebay America and I have never seen another furby like her. A while ago I posted about May May on a furby forum to try and find out some information about her, but no one there had ever seen or heard of this furby. I'm not sure which generation she is, if she is a prototype, limited edition or something very special. She has all tags present and looks to be an Official Furby Release.

Looking at the photo you will see she has rainbow eyelashes and a purple face plate, unlike any other furby. She also has rainbow pattern ears, mane and belly.

Her colours are amazing and I wonder if there are any more around like her. We will always treasure May May and hope to eventually find out more information about her. Stay tuned!"

furbyandchips quickly provided an update on the 21st. In this post, furbyandchips described searching the wayback machine for furby.com articles, finding what they were looking for on a page titled 'news updates'.

From the 9th of November 1999 until the 1st of August 2000 a competition to design a furby took place on the back of Post brand cereals. Children 17 and under were asked to color in their own furby design, and send their entry in the mail by the 1st of August 2000. Twelve designs at random would then be selected and posted on furby.com where a winner could be voted by the public.

The winner was Brittany from Missouri, who won a trip to the furby design studio in Illinois, as well as recieving their own furby. However, furbyandchips was still left with some unanswered questions.

"So it turns out that this is in fact an official Furby-Tiger Release! (some doubted this on AdoptaFurby Forum). I wonder if 'Brittany from Missouri' still has her Rainbow Furby? Also were any of the other 12 entries created?

As far as I know, there are only two Rainbow Furby's in existence. The one that I own, and the other one the original seller (maybe) still has? After some more detective work, I found out the other rainbow Furby had a highest bid of $525.00 before the seller chose to end the auction early! I can only guess they had a change of heart and wanted to keep it."

Eight months later, on the 11th of august 2019 an update was posted on the private facebook group Furby Collectors.

"Hi guys! I'm brand new to this group, and while I'm not a “collector” per-se, i am very proud of this furry rainbow dude right here. He's one of three in existence, made in 2000 when i was just 10 years old. i just so happened to be the lucky winner of a coloring “design your own Furby” contest hosted by Post cereals back in the day. i was flown to Rhode Island with my family and allowed to tour the Hasbro factory, meeting the artists, getting sneak peaks into prototype toys to come, and got to meet the CEO himself! He presented to me, in a formal greeting ceremony, with three of the Furbies I'd designed as a little girl. One to play with (kept outside of the box), one to keep sealed, and one they put into their archives. i felt ike a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! Truly a dream come true for a kid. Sadly, when i was 16 years old, 13 years ago now, my boxed Furby was stolen from me and sold by my late older brother who had been battling an incredibly difficult and heartbreaking addiction. I've come to terms with it over the years, but have always wondered what happened to the rainbow siblings of this furry cutie. I'd seen images posted online of an Ebay listing with one of the sibling Furbies before but have not discovered much more about their fates. thought I'd reach out here and give a bit of backdrop to this weird story in hopes i may learn something! Here I've included a goofy photo of my multicolored friend from recently and a clipping of the arcticle written from when i was an excited 10 year old girl!"

This still leaves some questions. If the other furby furbyandchips's friend bought was number four, then why would the facebook poster believe there to be only three in existance, why would furbyandchip's believe only two to exist, and why would the original ebay seller say their husband recieved two as an employee gift?

We can most likely rule out the brother making both ebay listings, since he only had access to one furby. Could there be more rainbow furbies that we don't know of?

If you have any more information on this furby, please get in touch! I tracked down the news article the original creator was mentioned in, but I needed a newspaper.com subscription to view it so I wasn't able to get further information from that. I also wasn't able to check the facebook group for further updates as I don't use facebook. If anyone has pictures of the back of the rainbow furby and can share them, that would be appreciated!

Here's some more images:

#furby #rainbow furby #furblr #furby community #furby love #bear speaks

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apomaro-mellow · 26 days

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Every Baby Needs a Daddy 16

Part 15

The next day, Steve was probably the clingiest he'd ever been. He thought his heat had ended but the new pack bonds brought on a new crest of lust. For the first time since he had arrived, he ate breakfast with everyone in the kitchen. After the meal, Steve made himself comfortable in Eddie's lap.

Eddie and Jeff were talking about concepts for the next album. Gareth was nursing his coffee, still waking up. Grant got up to refill his own mug and Steve's eyes followed him like a hawk. Eddie was pretty attuned to Steve's wants and needs. And when he felt Steve's fingers brush against his lips while staring at the unaware beta across the room, he had a pretty good idea of what his baby wanted.

"Remember sweetness, you gotta use your words. The boys don't know all your tells yet."

Steve whimpered and whined at first, but not longer after he was purring as Grant ate him out on the counter.

Soon enough though, it was time for Corroded Coffin to return to the public eye. And almost just as quickly, the fans with a keen eye noticed a certain omega showing up much more. Not just on Eddie's arm but the rest of the band's as well.

The more it was seen, the more permanent Steve's position appeared. It was February when the competing hashtags #ccomega and #notouromega showed up. Of course, the overwhelming majority of the fans were in the camp of 'neither one is gonna fuck you, so stop wasting your time arguing about it'.

Eddie was reading through a couple of argument threads, snickering to himself when Steve stepped out of the dressing room.

"What about this one?"

The outfit consisted of tight leather pants, a blazer, and a mesh shirt under that. Eddie's hands fell to the magnetic force that was Steve's nipples and started playing with them through the shirt. He let that be his answer and the online comment wars were forgotten for a moment. The new outfit was for an award show the band was attending and throughout the whole thing, Steve ignored his own reserved seat and stayed planted in Eddie's lap.

Given that it was an award show, many eyes were on it, even those not typically concerned with celebrity gossip. When it started spreading to such a degree, even THEY couldn't ignore it. Helen Harrington should have known something was up the moment Irene got that nasty look in her eyes, taking a sip of her champagne flute before speaking.

"Of course, we can't all have such famous children. Steve has been in so many magazines these days. I think the last one actually caught him with his pants down", Irene laughed haughtily.

Helen's face was tight with control. "You're such a charmer Irene. Not most people would admit to reading such tabloid trash."

It was reaching their circle of colleagues, which meant something must be done about their son. She and her husband Richard discussed as much. Steve couldn't be allowed to drag their name through the mud like this anymore.

-----------------------

Steve had basically taken up residence in the band's house. He slept in Eddie's room, which was now functionally his as well. Every morning he woke up with their scents mingled and it made his omega purr with satisfaction. He liked whenever the rest of his pack's scents lingered on his body too. Every time he went out, people knew who he belonged to, even without a bite.

But the thought of getting a mating bite did intrigue him.

He wasn't sure how to bring it up though. They'd already taken a major step in their relationship. Asking to be mated forever seemed like asking too much too soon. But relaxing in the living room, warming his alpha's cock with his mouth while daytime television played on sounded perfect.

And everyday with Steve was perfect in Eddie's opinion. Valentine's Day needed to be more perfect. He had a hunch why Steve was spending February 13th with Jeff and Gareth. It didn't make him any less crabby about it though and unfortunately Grant was left to deal with his crabby ass. He was even crabbier when he realized Steve had awakened much earlier the next day and that Eddie wouldn't be seeing him until evening.

CC had a radio interview and Steve was off doing who knew what. Eddie had half a mind to send him relentless thirst texts but instead just made sure he remembered they had reservations at a private restaurant. Eddie sent a car to get Steve and by 8 they had both arrived. Eddie was practically drooling at the silk shirt Steve was wearing.

And the thrill of later events got to him as he put a hand to Steve's back and felt something lacy underneath the shirt.

"You got a surprise for me, baby?"

Steve's smile was coy. "Maybe. Maybe I did a little shopping and I needed a couple of extra eyes to make sure it looked right."

Well that explained why the other two tagged along. And Eddie was only a little jealous that they got to see his present early. Only a little. Steve was pressed to his side for the entire dinner, feeding each other and feeling his surprise just under the silk.

"Baby, I don't think I can wait any longer", Eddie murmured against his ear.

"I can't either", Steve whispered back, legs rubbing together.

There was no way they were making it back home. Steve needed Eddie inside him now and he let him know that by letting out quiet whimpers directly into his ear. Eddie bit his lip, getting a naughty thought in his head.

"I've got an idea...if you're into it."

Steve was definitely into any ideas he had and soon the bill was paid and they were rushing back to the car Eddie had driven here. Eddie started driving with one hand, then other cupped Steve between the legs. It didn't take long for Eddie to find what they needed.

A 24 hour car wash.

They both climbed into the backseat as soon as the car was set on the track. Steve sunk down on Eddie's cock and rode him without an ounce of shame, letting his voice ring out among the noises of the brushes and soap and water. Eddie knew he must have hearts in his eyes, watching this beautiful creature, shirt falling open to reveal the dark green lingerie underneath.

When they came, they only had a few moments to make themselves decent as the car started to exit the wash. Steve didn't even try, just lying in the backseat with his pants off while Eddie scrambled back to the front. With very little regard for much else, Eddie peeled out of the parking area to preserve Steve's modesty.

Meanwhile, Steve had few qualms about having his cunt out in the backseat. This time of night, it was dark besides a few streetlamps. he reached down to feel his own wetness mingling with Eddie's cum. Eddie wasn't playing any music, so the sound of Steve's pussy sounded like it was echoing in the car. This man would be the death of him.

The rest of the night was spent in romantic bliss, just the two of them. But Steve had already given the rest of his pack chocolates.

The next morning, Steve's dream of a domestic life with Eddie was interrupted by his phone ringing. Eddie groaned at the intrusion and Steve reached out to grab it and see who was calling him. The number had no name attached, but he knew it by heart. He'd known the number since he was young but it had been years since he'd called it. Or since it had called him.

He ignored the call to stop the ringing and cuddled back up to his alpha. Eddie was all who mattered right now. Not them. He ignored the call that came a couple of hours later, and the few that came the next day as well. He didn't even listen to the voicemails left for him. Whatever they had to say, couldn't be anything good.

It was two weeks later when he got his first piece of mail since he started living here and who else could it be from but his parents. He leaned against the fridge as he opened it, finally curious enough to find out what they wanted.

"So what'd they send you?", Eddie asked before spooning some cereal into his mouth.

For a moment, Steve simply stood there, mouth agape as he read the envelope's contents.

"Sweetheart?"

"My parents.... sent me a cease and desist letter."

Part 17 (final)

Tag Team CLOSED

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @sllooney @starman-jpg @oxidantdreamboat @xxbottlecapx @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord @beckkthewreck @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

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jarofstyles · 1 year

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Reaper 3

Reaper is a dark story with dark and mature subject matter. 18+ NSFW

Sorry, the update is a bit late but better late than never right? ALSO they're finally getting touchy in this chapter, this one is fluffy compared to the next chapter... so please enjoy the calm before the storm :)

wc: 10k

Warnings: a touch of smut, stalking, talk of crime and gangs, misogyny, general dudes being assholes, talk of violence, gun and weapon mentions, etc

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!

----

“Come on, Bunny. We can get breakfast out before I drop you at school.” Harry was a big fan of breakfast food, especially at the Silver Spoon. It was one of the only places that hadn’t changed in this town, it gave him a sense of stability. He and Sterling had weekly meals there and now it was time for him to bring Bunny.

He figured it would be a good way for them to start their journey as a couple. The windows gave the son of the bitch the perfect opportunity to peep at them.

It’s a good thing Harry was planning to give him a show.

Y/N loved the silver spoon, so she had no complaints. She had practically ran to the door, pulling on her boots quickly so they didn’t have to rush with eating.

Having her on the back of his bike was a thrill.

No one ever rode with him except her, actually. The first time had been a few years ago when she’d gotten herself mixed up in a bad part of town at a party and called Harry instead of Sterling because his wrath was far less scary- at least to her, it seemed. But this ride was much different. A different sort of tension rose in his guts when she had her hands wrapped around him, seeing her polished nails gripping his shirt right over his stomach. Her head rested against him but was covered in a helmet. He had to get her one of her own. His sunglasses covered his eyes, the warm sun bearing down on them as they approached Silver Spoon.

The rumbling of his engine cut off and he tapped her hands to signal she could let go, even if he didn’t particularly want her to. His stomach was grumbling though, and he needed a good stack of pancakes with black coffee.

Dismounting, he turned to her and helped her get the helmet off. Gentle motions with rough fingers coaxed the clip free, lifting it off of her head. “Good?” At her nod, he took her hand and threaded their fingers together.

His hand was large, calloused and his knuckles were scarred. Hers were delicate, soft, and barely had a scratch on them.

She couldn’t help the smile from spreading across her face. It felt like a dream. Bunny had been dreaming of riding on the back of his bike around town, the way everyone stopped to look at them had her stomach doing flips because to them… she was his.

So proud she was to have Harry on her arm. Everyone in town knew of him and knew what he was capable of, they’d never seen him with a girl in broad daylight or ever really so the staring was completely justified.

“Hello my dear,” Sandy, the woman who owned the diner greeted the two of them. “Oh, Y/N? Sweetheart, you look beautiful! You haven’t been here in so long, I was starting to think Sterling took you with him.” She chuckled, taking in the pair of them. And their intertwined hands.

“Booth for two?” She asked giving Harry a knowing smile.

The polite nod was all she got back, but Harry did have a fondness for Sandy. He grew up here, grew up with milkshakes and fries as he tried to sober up and breakfast after long nights of activities he couldn’t discuss.

Harry never put his back to the door and Sandy knew that, taking him to his regular booth. The menus were placed on the table with a promise to be right back with coffee and Harry took the time to grab Bunny’s jacket, hanging it up on the hook outside the booth.

Harry rarely ever took his cut off. It was his most prized possession. The leather vest and the leather jacket he wore in the winter months? That almost never got taken off when he was in public. It was an identifier, a signal that he was protected and also not someone to fuck around and find out with.

The rings decorated his hands, a mix of things he had collected over the years tapped against the table as he fished his phone out and placed it face down on the table.

“Bunny.” He murmured. Her eyes had been focused on the menu, feeling the eyes on them. It was a giddy and nerve-wracking feeling. People were aware of Reaper and his antics, never once seeing him take a woman to breakfast- let alone hold a hand.

“You okay? Why’re you hiding from me?” He tilted his head, hair falling over his face a bit as he observed her. She was hiding a bit from him, which he didn’t like. He liked seeing her face.

“I’m okay, it’s just a bit different— didn’t think people would care this much.” She looked up at him with a cheeky grin, setting the menu down now that she had decided.

Strawberries and cream French toast. It’s what she always got when she came here, but she still liked to look at the menu and see if anything else tickled her fancy.

Her legs moved under the table, ankles wrapping around his in a small gesture of affection. Her foot gently rubbed at the back of his calves, a smile still on her face as she waited for a reaction. All couples played footsy. She wondered if Harry had ever gotten to experience it.

“What are you getting?”

Harry swallowed down his surprise. Until now, he had been the one to initiate any sort of touch. He had even thought perhaps he had done a bit too much until he had seen her reaction in the kitchen, but it was clear now that maybe she had just needed to warm up to it.

“Pancakes.” He murmured. He always got the pancakes with eggs and bacon, which was a safe and filling bet. There wasn’t anything bad here but he wasn’t someone who went for overkill.

“And you’re getting strawberries and cream French toast.” He knew her order just as well. The girl loved her strawberries, had since she was a kid. Strawberry pie, milkshakes, ice cream, popsicles. He used to tease her about turning into one- Harry’s version of teasing anyways.

His bulky boots were something she found attractive too, oddly enough. How solid of a man he was. He was steady and unmovable. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she was so damn drawn to him.

“They’re going to care because I always said I’d never date.” He placed his menu down, eyes still glued on her face. Her phone buzzed on the table and he wordlessly grabbed it, ignoring her ‘hey!’ And opened it up.

“Snapchat?” He raised a brow. “Darling… who the hell still uses this?”

Y/N wasn’t sure who would be snapping her at this hour, but she could only assume it was one of her friends. Most likely Lulu. She didn’t have anyone on there besides her friends, she wasn’t in the mood to receive unsolicited dick pics so she usually said she didn’t have one.

“What?” She asked confused about his judgment, “I’m sorry you’re old and not hip, Harry. Who is it anyway?” Y/N was curious, especially when she saw the smug look on Harry’s face.

“Are u fr with reaper and didn’t tell me? I’m hurt 😔”

Y/N felt her face heat up. Damn, news spreads fast. She didn’t think her friends would find out this quickly, hell, her friends knew about her crush and were probably all screaming and dying to know the details. Fuck, she hoped no one would mention it—

“Can I have it back, please? Girls chat. It’s private.” She knew she had to play it cool, but the puppy eyes she was giving him were lethal. “Please.”

He raised a brow, looking at her giving the look. The one that was always used to get her way. She was good, this girl. Very good. His eyes narrowed as he scrolled the chat, seeing nothing of interest.

He sighed, locking it and handing it over. “Nothing interesting that I saw. Boring girls chat.” It did tickle him a little how fast the news had spread, though. They’d literally just walked in and the rumor mill was going.

If it wasn’t going in his favor, he’d think it pathetic. People were always wondering about him, always trying to see what the scary mysterious man was doing. He kept shit private for a reason. This, however? It was meant to spread.

“You’re gonna have to make them believe it too.” He mumbled, shooting her a look. His hand reached out to hold hers again. “I don’t use the social media shit, but I know you do. If you want to post shit it’s fine, but do what you’d usually do if you had a boyfriend.” He knew she hadn’t had many. Sterling tended to scare boys far away from her.

“You’re going to regret saying that.” Y/N giggled, playing with the rings on his finger as the waitress came up to take their order.

She was young, probably around her age maybe older, she looked oddly familiar but Y/N couldn’t pin point where she knew her from. It was clear she also was surprised by the news, already knowing Harry’s order but asking what else she could get for them.

“Strawberries and cream French toast for the lady, and an early grey tea. Oat or coconut milk, either is fine.” Harry recited the order, he could never forget it. It seemed that was a common theme when it came to Bunny.

It left Y/N feeling bashful, giving the waitress a shy smile as she handed her the menus with a quiet ‘thank you’.

“I’ll wait to post though, gotta let the initial news settle before I overwhelm them with photographic evidence.” The two of them made a beautiful pair, she was sure the photos would do well on Instagram. “But this is kinda cute wait…” She pulled out her phone and took a picture of their intertwined hands to post to her story.

“Is that the Instagram thing?” He looked over to see her phone. “Hm. That’s the one I used to use. But honestly, doesn’t appeal to me anymore. M’glad you like it though.”

Harry was a bit older and he was really quite tired of people wanting to know his business. He scrolled some websites and watched videos sometimes but he found not having a large digital footprint would help him more than anything else.

“The first step, I guess.” He watched her twirl his lion head ring. His hand was very identifiable by the rings and scarring on the knuckles. “Viper filled Sterling in but he’s pretty much no contact right now.” He had gone through some shit their last run.. and it had changed him. He needed to get away from here, especially after his relationship with his girlfriend crumbled. Harry understood. The life changed people. “He’s going to kick my ass.” His other hand ran through his hair, aware of the punches he was definitely going to take.

Bunny has always been off limits. Always. No go zone, no touch zone. But Harry never saw her as a little sister like Sterling tried to implement. It wasn’t like that but… more so someone he really cared about. A girl he liked and wanted to protect.

“I think… I know your phone came back with no bugs or trackers but maybe don’t take any locations. Turn off the services for that.” He suggested. “Just in case. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, one sec…” She immediately went to her settings and manually turned each one off. These were all things she wouldn’t normally consider and she was glad she had him to remind her.

“Also,” She started as she turned the last location setting off, “for the record, I won’t let Sterling kick your ass. I don’t really care what he thinks about it, if anything he should be happy it’s you and not someone else.”

Harry really was the best choice. He knew her the best, he was the most feared member of all the Devil’s Keepers, he was the closest to her in age, and he was attractive so it wouldn’t be suspicious. She was actually comfortable being around him. It’s what Sterling would have wanted out of this.

“What are you going to do today while I’m in class?”

Harry would be going to the clubhouse and discussing things she didn’t need to be aware of. They were running weapons and it was club business, something she never needed to know the intricacies of, so he didn’t mention that.

“Going to work. Prospect named Bulldog is going to be outside your school and waiting for you. He looks kind of like one so you’ll know who he is.” Harry would sit outside all day but he had to work on other things and she would be safe with a watchful eye.

Harry owned a garage where the rich people came to get their cars detailed, painted, vinyl wrapped, whatever. He charged up the ass for oil changes and tire rotations for them and lowered the price for normal people. Was it ethical? Maybe not. But it worked, and people forked the money over because he was good. His employees were family members or friends of the club who knew how to keep their mouths shut- or knew what would happen if they didn’t.

“M’gonna need you to text me updates. Every hour, want you to check-in. If you don’t, I’m coming down there and embarrassing you.” He warned her, his face serious as he squeezed her hand. “Don’t care about your little friends or your teachers. You feel me?”

“Oh please, embarrassing me how?” She was genuinely curious about what he would consider embarrassing for her. Did she want to find out? No for herself, no. However, if she was going to get to know Harry and really get to know him, she wanted to see all the sides of him he didn’t show to others.

“Okay so am I meeting Bulldog after class or are you picking me up?” She preferred the latter, wanting to show him off to everyone and snuggle up to him on the bike again. “I’m going to make something yummy for dinner, do you have any requests?”

Her hand squeezed his again, before flipping his hand over so she could trace his palms. She just needed something to fiddle with to distract her from her nerves. She was so into him, it was obvious to everyone but him. She’d never act like this with anyone. For that she was thankful.

“I’m picking you up. Bulldog is just watching until I get there.” He wouldn’t let a prospect take her home. Especially not if this was their ‘debut’ of sorts. He wanted to be a good ‘boyfriend’, however fake it was. He would beat a guy's ass if they treated her wrong and he would hold himself to the same standard regardless of the validity. She deserved good things.

His hand tingled with her tracing, and he was almost thankful when Sandy rolled around with their food so he could pull away. The touch was overwhelming, even if it did feel good. He needed to put his head on straight.

“Anything. Pasta or steak.” He shrugged, cutting into his pancakes. “I eat a lot.” Harry had muscle. While he wasn’t overly brawny, you could tell that he worked out and was very in shape, he had decently defined abs but a little bit of softness to his sides. He had a soft spot for ice cream, which he kept his secret.

It was quiet as they ate. Not uncomfortably so, but Harry wasn’t one to talk for no reason. She would bring things up and he would listen, nodding his head and giving her attention while also scanning the Restaurant while he did so. The fucker had to know her schedule. This was out of the ordinary for her but he wouldn’t put it past the creep to show up.

No one gave him the vibe here. It felt safe, but he was always on guard. He couldn’t afford to be with precious cargo. He didn’t give a fuck about dying or death for himself, he knew one day someone would end up taking him out.

But her? He would rather be tortured than have her hurt.

“Okay, so what I’m getting from that is steak AND pasta, got it.” Bunny would prepare a delicious meal fit for a king. Maybe not steak and pasta, but definitely steak and potatoes and vegetables with homemade ice cream for dessert.

Having Harry’s companionship these past few days had done wonders for her. She was used to being alone while her mom worked to support the two of them. Sterling had moved out when he turned 21, so the pressure was on for her to leave the nest so her mom and stepdad could have the house to themselves.

“This is so good, oh my god.” She practically moaned, picking up her cup of tea to wash down the delicious cream that coated her mouth. “Want to try?” She asked, already cutting off a piece to feed to him.

He said to treat him like her boyfriend so she did. She wanted to give him everything she felt he was missing out on, even if it was just pretend. She and Harry had a lot more in common than he realized and while he grew up thinking he didn’t need or like romantic gestures, Bunny knew that everyone liked romantic gestures. Especially if they were tailored just for them.

He didn’t want to react to it, but his body had other plans. Hearing her moan, seeing the white at the corner of her mouth… his cock twitched to life. Her soft little bunny eyes looked at him innocently as if she didn’t just give a pornographic moan right next to him.

Harry simply nodded, leaning over and closing his mouth around the fork. Pulling back, he saw her eyes on his mouth as he chewed, tongue peeking out to brush a bit of the cream away from the corner of his lips.

“Thanks, baby.” He smirked a little bit as he leaned back into his seat. “S’good. But a little too sweet.” He knew it would taste better off of her. Whipped cream and salty skin. Christ- he really needed to check himself before he got fully hard at this table. It fucking sucked to ride hard. Especially with the risk of her hand falling down to feel him, even on accident.

She nodded in agreement, understanding that their tastes were different. Harry was much more of a savory person, he even gave off that energy. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was an Aquarius.

“Do you get many days off?” She asked, “what do you normally do on them?” Y/N didn’t want to disrupt his schedule too much. Ultimately she was hoping she could spend some time with him doing things that he enjoyed seeing as he was always doing whatever it is she wanted.

Maybe she was taking this whole couple thing a little bit too seriously? She knew she would never get this chance again though, she might as well show him all she had to offer.

With her previous boyfriends, she wasn’t like this, wasn’t concerned with things that they would want from her. She treated them all the same, friends that were guys who would also give her mediocre sex… sometimes it was really good, but that was usually before she started her period when she was extremely horny. The wind blowing could have turned her on in that state, it wasn’t anything special from them.

That wasn’t the case with Harry.

“Well… m’always on call for the club. They need me, I’m there.” It was a vow you took when you got patched in. Your brothers were family, the club was your life. He took it seriously. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t able to take days off from his actual job.

“I own the garage, so I make my own hours usually. Got the employees and customers now to do it. Would have taken today off but I’ve got a big-budget client wanting to wrap her fuckin’ sports car in the dumbest vinyl- but we get good money. Even if it pains me to do it. I’ve got to be there to see her when he comes to drop off and pick up. She likes to deal with me directly.” Probably because she wanted his cock but that wasn’t something he did with clients, ever. She had fucked herself out of that one as soon as she brought her car in the first time.

She wasn’t his type, and he wasn’t about to go fuck around while he was with Bunny regardless. That was fucked up, even by his standards.

“I'm taking tomorrow off to be outside your school while you’re there. Had a look at your schedule, you’re only there 4 hours tomorrow.” He had snooped. He wasn’t apologizing for it. It wasn’t the full day, so it would be fine.

“I normally don’t take days off. I go in, mess with cars and fix ‘em. I go to the clubhouse and see if there’s shit with the bikes that need fixing. Sometimes, if I take days off, I go on road trips.” It was his code for runs to deliver the illegal goods but she didn’t need to know that now.

“I’ve got to clean my place up. Didn’t expect visitors so I know it’s a bit cluttered. Probably need to shop for some stupid pants. The jeans I like to wear are getting too ripped.” The knees were far gone now.

“I can help!” She said with a mouth full, covering her mouth as she took another sip of her tea. “With the cleaning and the shopping, I’m staying at your place I might as well.”

Acts of service were her love language right next to words of affirmation. In other words, she loved praise and she would do anything to receive it. Cleaning and shopping were things she did often so she didn’t mind at all, especially because Harry was a tidy man. She didn’t notice his place was cluttered at all. It was cozy and lived in.

“How many pairs of jeans do you have?” She asked curiously, knowing he only had a few clothes in his closet. He didn’t need a lot, her stuff took up the other half and that was just what could fit in a duffle.

“Okay, so we can do that tomorrow when I’m back from my pastry class.”

“You can’t go crazy.” He warned her, narrowing his eyes. Bunny had a tendency to overdo. She had some mother like tendencies and he had seen it himself just from hanging out at her house. A natural hostess who wanted to make everyone feel at home, she often overdid to make everyone else comfortable.

“I’ll let you clean and organize the kitchen 'cause you’ll be the one using it, but don’t touch the other shit. I don’t want you overdoing it.” He griped. It may have come out harsh but he didn’t want her to think she had to take care of him.

People rarely took care of him. His mom suffered with a lot of addiction issues and he basically raised himself. She was better now and tried at every turn to make up for it but the damage was done. People taking care of him made him uncomfortable because he never really had it.

“I’ve got... 3 pairs.” Including the ones he was wearing. He had a fuck ton of money but he really didn’t live like he did. Material shit meant nothing to him. He made plenty of investments outside the club and found his numbers growing and growing- it didn’t even feel real to him, especially growing up the way he did.

“I’m no good at shopping for clothes so I’ll let you help me. But you have to get some shit too. All your girlie shit we left at your place. Just get extras. deal?”

“Okay, but I swear it’s not overdoing. You’re doing so much for me already.” She told him with a shrug, clearly, this was something he wasn’t going to budge on. She didn’t like feeling indebted, even if they would never ask for anything in return.

Y/N never judged him for the way he spent his money. If he was happy with 3 pairs of jeans then so be it, but she had some ideas for some additions to his closet that would make him look absolutely delectable.

“Didn’t know you liked to play sugar daddy.” She teased as she finished up her meal, giggling at his expression. Bunny always picked the perfect moments to make flirty comments, she thought someone like Harry would be immune to them but it seems even the toughest of men melted when it came to compliments and mentions of sex.

Y/N would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about how he was in bed. She had a feeling his dominance bled through every part of his life, but she was curious to see just how he liked to dominate women. Rough, of course, but there was more to him than met the eye.

He gave her a look, silently giving her the ‘really?’ He was thinking- but his cock was oddly a fan of the idea of spending money on her. Of spoiling her. It was… really odd. Wanting to take care of someone else like this was slightly jarring.

“Finish your food.” There were still a few bites left and he wanted her fully nourished- as well as the sugary thing could do.

Bunny was happy with his reaction, though. He hadn’t told her off or rejected her teasing outright, so she did as asked and happily wiggled with each bite of her French toast. She hadn’t even noticed Harry slipping Sandy his card in the meantime.

Helping her into her jacket hasn’t been what she expected but it made her warm and fuzzy, especially when his hand slipped back into hers and they walked out together. He didn’t talk, but she was okay with the silence.

—-

Bunny had never been this excited to get out of class.

Sure, the seafood they had prepared was amazing and she had lots of fun with Tom shelling and deveining shrimp, but it didn’t compare to the relaxing hours at Harry’s place. This wasn’t necessarily supposed to be an enjoyable experience all things considered, but she let herself float off to fantasy land to cope.

She immediately spotted Bulldog as she exited the building with Tom, nodding to him as a thank you before making her way toward the lot.

“Is your sexy new boyfriend here?” Tom asked, nudging her with his elbow as they walked beside one another. “Reaper or something? He sounds violent, that’s hot…”

“Shut up,” Y/N smacked his arm with a laugh, shaking her head at her friend. “Yeah, he’s somewhere on a bike. You can’t miss him.”

Harry didn’t miss her, that’s for sure.

His eyes locked on her as soon as she left the building, stomach gnarling when he saw her with another guy.

It hit him then that she had other men who wanted her. Lots of them, probably. They wanted her attention and her ideas and her in general. They thought they could have her- and Harry felt the weird possessive cloud come down over his head.

“Bunny.” He approached, ignoring the other man. He could choke for all Harry cared. “Got out late, hm?” He had worried a bit when she hadn’t come out with the first wave of people, so his worry was authentic. His fingers tipped her chin up to look at him, her eyes wide from the sudden touch. “Missed you.”

He couldn’t stop himself. His lips pressed against hers firmly, thumb holding her chin in a semi-possessive state as his stubble brushed her delicate skin, his grip making her open her mouth just a little- enough for his tongue to brush against hers as his other arm pulled her into his body.

It was a very clear and deliberate public claiming. ‘This is my girl, back the fuck off’ claiming by the tall man in dark leather who’d rode in on the large, loud bike.

He just hadn’t expected it to be this good. To taste her tea still on her lips and her body to fall into him, hand gripping his cut as she moaned in surprise against his lips. The soft ‘pop’ of their lips detaching and his thumb wiping away a tiny bit of wetness on the corner of her mouth. “Let’s go.”

Holy shit.

Her lips stayed parted as she looked up at him, she didn’t have to say anything for him to know what she was thinking. The carnal look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

Y/N’s face felt warm as she waved goodbye to Tom with a giddy grin. She hadn’t expected that, but she could certainly get used to it. If she hadn’t been in public she wouldn’t have let him pull away, she swore she’d continue to melt into him until they fused together completely.

“You going to greet me like that every day?” Y/N broke the silence as they reached the bike, licking over her bottom lip while she watched him pull her helmet out from the seat compartment.

“If you walk out with other guys. Yes.” He grumbled though he felt satisfied that he had done it. He claimed her right there and was positive multiple people could see, would know that he just kissed a girl that was his.

He also regretted it.

It was going to be the only thing he thought about when he looked at her now. He was going to think about her sweet mouth and how she had melted right into him, how she had moaned against this mouth in the surprised way, how she had clung to his shirt, and how fucking soft her lips were.

He was fucked.

He was quiet as he strapped the helmet on her head, tapping under her chin when he finished. His body wasn’t sure how to feel. Excitement? Regret? Guilt? He was certainly aroused from tasting her, but he knew now he was going to pay for his sins.

When he saw the other guy it sent him into a jealous cloud. Who the fuck was the kid and why was she laughing at what he said? How well did she know him? The knowledge she had a life outside of him and dated before, had been kissed before, made him irritated. He couldn’t have made a move beforehand but it didn’t matter to his unsettled thoughts.

Before flipping the visor down in the helmet, he looked into her stunned eyes and saw the confirmation that she had liked it just as much. That could be a separate issue. “Don’t walk around with other boys when you’re supposed to be mine. Don’t fuckin’ like it.” He grunted. “Said you’d be good.” There was a pause before she went to open her mouth. “Then act like it. Come on.”

He helped her on the bike, not giving her a chance to speak as he followed, tugging her hands around his waist. “Don’t let go.”

“Harry he—” The sound of him revving the engine cut her off before she could explain.

So he was jealous. He was jealous and it wasn’t part of the act.

Y/N smiled smugly and held on tight as directed, deciding she’d let Harry take out his anger on the open road. She would get a chance to explain once they were back at his place, but she wanted to see what else he would do to prove her suspicions.

If he had even given her a moment to explain, he would have found out that Tom was a happily married twink. Of course, she would be bringing that up once they arrived, but for now, she was going to let him think he had gotten away with this little jealous boyfriend act.

Arriving at Harry’s apartment complex, Bunny stayed quiet, watching as he took off her helmet and fixed her hair. He practically dragged her up into his apartment, not saying a single word the whole way up.

Harry was dirty. He needed to wash his hands and change his clothes because he didn’t feel like it was right to be around her being so filthy.

Bunny was… she was light and soft and clean. He was dark and hard and fucking filthy. Opposites in most ways but god damn, did he want to appeal to her. This was exactly why he had tried so hard to hold her a shoulders length away.

Now he was scrubbing his nails with the nail brush to get the grease from under them. A shower would come later, but he wanted to get back out there and see what the fuck she was doing.

He left the bedroom to see her padding around the kitchen, taking out ingredients for what he assumed would be dinner. She hadn’t had a chance to change yet and was still in her outfit, the pants hugging her ass in a way he wished his hands could- but he kept quiet to observe before he approached.

“Rooms open. Go and change.” He opened the fridge to grab the water pitcher with the built-in filter, filling up a glass.

She thought maybe he would have cooled off by now, but the return of his short statement sentences said otherwise. Even his tone was different. If this is the way he wanted to play then she would certainly give him a run for his money.

He couldn’t hide from her in his own apartment.

With that in mind, Y/N created a plan. She wrapped up marinating the steak and washed her hands in silence. Her eyes flickered over to where he was standing, making sure she’d brush past him on the way to the bathroom.

“Tom’s gay by the way.”

It was simple, but the words lingered in the kitchen as Harry realized he may have shown his own hand.

It was too late for that though, especially after Y/N came back from her shower dressed in nothing but a tank top and tiny shorts. Yeah, it was a little bit evil, but she figured it was payback for the fact that he slept shirtless and in slutty grey sweats.

He’s been stewing on the couch when she came out of the room, and honestly? He nearly choked on his spit.

His reaction was internal, mostly, but he didn’t necessarily hide that he was looking at her. She was a tease. Was that what she was trying to do? Tease him?

The guy was gay, which was fine, but he had gotten jealous and let it overtake him a bit. Okay. But now he seemed to have cracked open a box that should have been closed shut and locked with a key and taped afterward. Something he shouldn’t have even touched.

Now he was going to pay.

—

It continued. Each day was similar for the next 4, a routine of sorts settling into the groove- but Harry was going out of his goddamn mind.

She got one kiss when he picked her up. One toe-curling kiss that he broke apart and never spoke about after. Her school week was going by and every damn day after, she would put on tiny shorts and little tank tops and prance around his apartment, touch him, sit a bit close to him, and giggle.

He was going insane.

He had been so good. Behaving, keeping his hands to himself, sleeping and keeping to his side of the bed- but each day, Bunny was fraying his final string closer and closer to snapping.

He hasn’t gotten laid in weeks, he had a woman he wanted but shouldn’t have under his protection, and now she was taunting him. There was no way she didn’t know what she was doing.

The final straw was when she came out in his tee shirt. No bra, nipples visible, and tiny shorts covered by the shirt hanging down, humming and shaking her hips as she placed something into the oven.

He had been out on the balcony when she had changed and didn’t see it until now- but seeing one of his Devil’s Keepers shirts on her and her nipples poking through the thin fabric, his jaw clenched so tight he thought a tooth may crack.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bunny?” He snapped, form tense as he slammed his phone on the counter.

Bingo.

“I’m roasting potatoes what does it look like?” She said as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Y/N was surprised it had taken him this long. It was actually pretty amazing that his self-control was this high considering his temper operated on a short fuse.

Y/N was used to men cracking quickly when she flaunted her body around. It was only natural, she knew she could use it as a weapon and she did. Harry on the other hand preferred to suffer in silence as she amped up the stakes with each and every day.

The kisses should have been enough to break him, especially when she tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth as she pulled away from their kiss this afternoon. She was sure that would do it. He left her no choice but to pull out the final boss.

He was possessive, of course, he liked her in his shirt.

“Not talking about the potatoes. You know better.” He clenched his teeth, crossing his arms as he approached her. His final attempt to keep his hands to himself, but he could feel himself failing.

“All fucking week… you’ve been doing this shit. Prancing around and showing off your body. Watching me. What’s your goal?” He stepped closer, watching her turn around and look up at him with those pretty eyes he always admired.

Only now they were hooded and moony, looking up with a little smirk. She was playing him. Obviously aware of what she was doing.

“Don’t play games with me.” His nostrils flared as she raised her brows at him. She was daring him to do something. The tension was heavy, his restraint nonexistent.

“Do you know how fucking hard I’ve been trying to be respectful? To be good?” He snarled, finally taking hold of her hip and anchoring her against the counter. “You’re going through a rough time, not trying to touch you, make this complicated, and what do you do?” He tugged on the shirt. “Go and do shit you know will get a reaction.”

Bunny had pushed him over the edge.

“Fine. What do you want?” He reached up, gently collaring her throat with his hand. Despite his harsh, almost mean tone, his grip was gentle. Trying so hard not to go too far without knowing what she wanted.

“Don’t just stand there. You’ve got a brain, sweetheart. Answer me.”

Most would be scared at this point, but Bunny was over the moon. His hand around her neck felt warm, secure, he was barely even pressing. He wouldn’t hurt her, but she wanted him to do something.

“I want you to stop pretending you don’t want me.” She couldn’t believe the words came out of her mouth, but she was proud she had managed to say it how it was. If she teased him for 5 days straight she knew she would have to take accountability. Would have to assert herself and let him know she could now read him just as well as he read her. His jealousy was her little glimmer of hope and she wanted him to give in.

“Just gonna kiss me once a day and let yourself, hmm? Said you wanted to make it believable, but you’re holding back.”

“I’ve been doing the right thing.” He grit out, his eyes dark and angry, but the arousal was there. She could see it, feel it. He kissed her every day and he let it linger just a bit too long, he couldn’t fake that.

“You’re driving me up a wall. What do you want me to do, Bunny?” He asked, exhaling harshly. “You want me to touch you? Want me to kiss on you? Have been leaving you alone because you’re a guest here, you’re supposed to feel safe and be protected from a stalker. Not getting felt up by the person you’re supposed to be protected by.”

It was something he’d been struggling with. He didn’t want to add in any sort of complication when it was already difficult, she was in a weird place- but she kept pushing him.

“Keep fucking pushing me, flaunting that perfect little ass and your tits? I’ve got incredible self-control, but you’re testing me and being a cockstease every damn day.” He released her throat, turning from her to the sink to try and catch himself.

Fuck. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be touching her at all. Shouldn’t comment on her ass, or her tits.

She could understand why he was holding back, but she had given him the go-ahead days ago. He had talked all this talk about touching her in public and kissing her and yet, the most they’d done was a kiss in her college parking lot. It was driving her crazy.

Y/N took a step forward and let her hands smooth over the plane of his back, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt as they made their way down to the hem.

“You’re so tense…” She mumbled, hands creeping under his shirt to repeat her previous movements, except this time against his skin. “It’s okay, you know? To like it… to want more…” She was trying to make it easy, but he was still trying to respect her.

“Can’t kiss me like that in the parking lot and leave me hanging… that’s so mean.” She pouted, her hands moving to wrap around his front as she rested her head against his chest.

“Bunny…” his voice was hoarse. Did she really mean that? “You’re….” He felt lips press against him, right on his shirt as her hands ran over his stomach. Fuck. She wanted this? She really did… said he was mean? Leaving her hanging….

Fine.

He turned around his body at its breaking point. He needed to touch her, god damn it.

“Mean?” He took her hands and placed them behind her back, keeping them there with one while the other went to her face. His finger dragged down her cheek, giving her a look over. She squirmed a bit but a look stilled her.

“You haven’t even seen mean from me. I’ve been so, so nice to you. What would be mean, is kissing you the way I wanted to before you left to go to school, let you walk around with an aching little cunt and wet panties all day. I can be very, very mean.” A feral grin rose on his face.

“You don’t want me to be mean, you want sweet. You want soft. Hm? A sensitive little bunny. Throwing tantrums because she wants… what? She wants me to touch her? That last person who should?” He shook his head, his finger burning a trail down to her lips.

“This fucking mouth is going to get you into so much trouble, baby. Keep taunting me.” He dared her. “Do it.”

With one swift motion, she sucked his finger into her mouth, keeping eye contact with him as she worked over his skin with her velvety tongue. Her movements were slow, noticing the same rage bubble up in him again before pulling away with a pop.

She kept her eyes trained on his, initially pressing soft kisses to the base of his finger before her tongue joined in the mix. Yes, she was fully sucking off his finger just to tease him. The curious side of her wanted to see just what he would do about it.

“Mmm… would feel so much nicer on your cock, don’t you think?” Bunny’s voice had changed, it had more of a raspy bite to it. Her eyes weren’t hiding much either, starting to droop from arousal.

“But you’re being good… so maybe you should eat me instead.”

“Fucks sake.” He whispered, smearing his finger back over her lips, wiping the spit back on her. “Would you look at that…” he pressed his finger back into her mouth, feeling her immediately suck back on it as she looked up at him.

“You’re a slut.” The words were soft but dirty, her mouth sucking him a bit harder as she nodded at him, taking his finger deeper into her mouth until she reached the knuckle. Trying to show him exactly what he could be doing if he just gave in.

“Act like such a good girl most of the time… but you’re gagging for it. Can’t fucking believe you.” He really couldn’t. Pulling his finger out of her mouth, he shook his head as she whimpered at the loss of it, the wet digit joining the rest to clasp under her jaw.

“You want my cock in your mouth?” He said it quietly, gently urging her mouth open. “You want to suck it and feel it on your tongue? I’m the last person you should be fucking with, Bunny.” He warned. “But you don’t care. Do you?”

Her head shook the best it could. Her mouth was watering at the thought of him, cunt sticky with how wet just his hold got her. “Say it then. Tell me that you want my cock in your mouth and I’ll consider it.”

Fuck it. He’s lost.

“Please sir,” Bunny let out a whimper, “I want your cock in my mouth…” Y/N couldn’t believe she had actually pulled this off, so close to getting exactly what she’d been craving.

Intimacy.

Sex was the perfect outlet for the two of them. Neither one of them was brave enough to share how they truly felt unless provoked, but sex would allow them to cater to each other's needs without the pressure of saying the right things.

Sex was primal, nothing else mattered then besides the connection they shared.

Y/N sank to her knees with his hand still cupped beneath her jaw. Nimble fingers began to play with his zipper, but she wouldn’t continue without a go-ahead.

“There. See? I knew you were a good girl with listening skills. You’re waiting for me to tell you yes, yeah?”

His Bunny looked up at him, nodding in agreement. She was listening very well now, not wanting to chance the opportunity being taken away. She would listen to Harry and do what he said so long as she could suck him.

“Go ahead. You can unzip, but not the briefs. You can kiss my cock over them. Feel it, but can’t touch it bare yet. I think you’re capable of doing that. Do you think you can, pet?” He stroked over her hair, feeling the zipper being pulled and the jeans being tugged down. “Remember what I said.”

Y/N tried not to be too rough, but she was eager. She felt a rush of excitement flow through her as she noticed just how hard he was, she felt proud. Bunny knew he was interested, but for him to be fully solid before she even touched him made her smile.

Not wasting another second, she leaned forward and pressed a few gentle kisses up his clothed cock looking up to see his reaction. Y/N was big on eye contact, the feeling of intimacy was addicting.

She let her tongue sneak out, placing kitten licks over his balls to see if he liked it, and hummed as she moved up along his shaft. If he wanted her to tease she would, it was much more fun this way.

“Does that feel good, sir?” Bunny’s voice was sickeningly sweet, lips sucking over his tip over the waistband. She knew his cock was big even before seeing it hard, but despite its size, she wasn’t intimidated at all. If anything it excited her.

“It does, sweetheart.” He murmured.

His mind was reeling. He never thought this would actually happen. Precious little Bunny on her knees for him, mouthing at his cock eagerly like his little pet. He was hard as nails, her willingness to please soothing a part of him he hadn’t been aware he had.

“Get the fabric wet. You’re so willing and eager to run this smart mouth all the time… I’ve got to wonder what else it can do. How I can use it.” He tugged her closer to him, rubbing himself over her face.

“Look so good down there. You’ve been dying to get there, haven’t you?” He had fully lost his composure. Giving in felt really damn good.

She nodded, a bit shocked at how he was. Bunny had only ever experienced Harry as a protective figure of someone who was stoic. He joked here and there but she never could have dreamed of experiencing him like this. A little unhinged from his usual composed and cool self.

Y/N let some spit collect in her mouth, wanting to get the fabric as wet as possible so he could feel every movement of her tongue. She wanted to behave. She wanted the praise. Wanted to show him all that he didn’t know he needed.

She flattened her tongue against him, slowly licking up the sides filthily. She was making a mess, both on his cock and between her legs. Spit was just getting all over her face, she hoped he liked it messy like she did.

Though she hadn’t had many sexual partners, she’d always had more taboo sexual fantasies. Of course, her boyfriends had always been into it, but never had she been with someone who met her match. Not just met, but completely exceeded her.

She didn’t have to sleep with Harry to know he was a freak. It was noticeable from the way he commanded her and cared for her. Y/N hoped he would show her more of this side of him, she wanted to see just how twisted he could be.

“Fucks sake…” he whispered, watching her do exactly what he had wanted.

Harry had particular tastes. He was dark and rough and a little mean… but with her, he knew there would be a sweet undertone to it. He had stayed away for a reason, thinking that a girl like her wouldn’t be into his brand of sex.

Bunny presented as someone sweet and soft. Perhaps a hint of a brat- but just seeing this, spit dripping down her chin as she licked up his covered cock, he had a feeling that she was a lot filthier than he had given her credit for.

“Messy little thing.” He pulled her back by her hair, a smirk lining his lips. “Fucking incredible. Do you want it in your mouth?” She has soaked the fabric and proven to him that perhaps she could take it. “I want to see what it can do. Already showed me you can be a messy girl…” he cooed. “Want to see it in on your tongue. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, sir.”

So polite. God, she was going to kill him.

Her fingers felt so delicate against his skin, teasing him while pulling his briefs down where his jeans sat below his bum. His cock twitched at the look on her face, her face lit up as if she’d been starving for it.

And she had been.

Bunny wasted no time diving right in, spitting on the tip and letting it drip down while so swirled her tongue around the crown on his cock. Flattening her tongue again, she let the weight of his cock lay flat against it as requested.

“So pretty like this…” Harry used his free hand to tap it against the wet muscle, groaning at the filthy noise it made. “Fucking love it don’t you?” She had the nerve to giggle. “Go on, suck it like a good slut.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Sinking her head down, the tip was engulfed in her mouth, his head tipping down to watch. It did something to him to watch her take it in, to feel her tongue stroke against the bottom of him.

Harry’s received plenty of head in his life, but none gave him the satisfaction this already did. It filled a piece of him that had been screaming to be seen, something he had been denying himself this whole time.

There wasn’t any part of her that seemed hesitant or embarrassed as she took more of him in, her hand holding him at the base and her eyes looking up at him. His long hair fell like a curtain as his head angled down, looking at her as she sucked him, the dark lust in his eyes fueling her to take even more.

“There we go… taking it in.” He muttered, her lips stretched around him. “You’ve no idea the shit I want to do to you. Probably would scare you away.” His hand stroked her wet cheek, smearing some of her spit over it as she bobbed her head. “Just keep sucking me with that hot little mouth.”

Bunny kept up her pace, letting out pleased hums with every moan he gave her. She hadn’t expected him to be so vocal and loud but was pleasantly surprised. It only egged her on, taking her deeper and deeper into her mouth with each bob of her head.

Harry’s jaw went slack the moment he felt himself hit the back of her throat, the most guttural groan following suit. It took everything in him not to thrust, instead his hand roughly grabbed a hold of her hair.

“You— tap my leg if it’s too much,” Harry said through his teeth, taking deep breaths to try and control himself. Holding her head in place he began moving his hips, pushing shallow thrusts into her mouth.

Bunny’s eyes teared up at the welcome intrusion, blinking them away as quickly as she could. She relaxed her jaw, taking deep breaths through her nose to keep her gag reflex at bay.

It felt so good, he felt tingles in his legs. Thrusting into her mouth, Harry let out a deep groan, feeling it reach her throat with one of the thrusts. She gagged a bit, making him ease up, but she didn’t tap his leg.

This wasn’t what he had imagined their first encounter would be- hell, he hadn’t even allowed himself to fantasize about it too much because he knew that it would open up a world that couldn’t be unexplored once stepped into.

But here he was, feeling her spit drip down his cock to his balls as he fucked her mouth. The slick, sloppy sound of his length gliding into her mouth over and over was filthy, spurring him on.

His hand fisted her hair, guiding her head further down him as he breathed heavily. “Who would have guessed you’d be a cockslut?” He grit out. “Letting me fuck that messy mouth. Fuck…” he pushed in deeper, feeling her gag again and pulling out a bit. “Love when you gag on it. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Been fuckin’ gagging for it.”

She was a mess. Tears slid down her cheeks from the gagging, spit down her chin, she looked filthy and messy and Harry loved every bit of it.

Y/N dug her nails into his thighs, enjoying the feeling of him fucking her throat a bit too much. She’d done this maybe once? But for Harry, she realized she’d do just about anything. Pleasing him was a turn on in itself, giving her a sense of power and control that she lacked in her day to day.

She let him continue his thrusting, wanting to make him cum. She wanted to know what it tasted like, what it felt like— as filthy as it was. Y/N had wanted him for so long that even the crudest of acts would make her cunt throb.

Her thighs squeezed together, trying to relieve the ache that was growing between them. He was far too gone to notice— at least that’s what she hoped. She just had to be good.

“This is what a good girl does.” He pulled out of her mouth, watching her pout up at him. “She sits on her knees and follows directions. Doesn’t talk back. It’s what I’d like. As sexy as the bratty act is…” he pulled his cock away, pulling the briefs back up. “You’re not going to get rewarded for teasing.”

The stupefied look on her face killed him. He wanted to laugh, also cry considering his cock was aching for a release and that had been the best head he had ever received- but she needed to learn.

“If you can continue to be a good girl, not tease me the rest of the week, Continue your check-ins, be as safe as you can, and stop the games?” He raised a brow. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll let you have my cum, I’ll make you cum. You’ll be rewarded.” His thumb brushed some of the spit from her mouth, reaching above her head to grab a paper towel and wiping up her face.

Bunny couldn’t believe it. She really couldn’t. What the fuck was this? One minute she was sucking him and he was moaning and the next- he was tucked away from her reach.

“And don’t even think about sneaking away to touch yourself. If you do, I’m not giving you shit.” He warned. It was unfair and mean and she wanted to cry- but for some reason, it made her even more aroused. His control over the situation and her… it was erotic.

Harry helped her back onto her feet, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. That was new. He’d never done that before. Her eyes were still glossy, lips swollen… she looked so beautiful staring up at him. He couldn’t help himself.

Brushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear, his fingers found their place below her jaw once again.

“Did so good for me…” He murmured, thumb rubbing at her dampened cheek. He only let a few more seconds pass before his lips were on hers, except this time was different.

Slow and tender, Harry’d never kissed anyone with so much intention before. There was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t, so he felt the kiss would tell her everything she needed to know.

The timer for the potatoes went off.

The shrill beep cut into their kiss, making her curse herself for putting it in so soon. She felt dazed as he pulled apart, the moment melting as he smoothed her hair back and took a step away.

What the actual fuck had just happened? Kissing her like that after denying her any more oral sex and making her feel special and cherished. Even just for that moment.

She blinked a few times as he handed her the oven mitt, the timer being turned off as he reached over her. “Time to eat properly, Bunny.”

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