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hyuckiefluff · 4 months ago

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call out my name | lee jeno

pairing: stepbrother! lee jeno x fem reader genre + wc: smut / enemies to lovers-ish | 17k+ summary: your stepbrother suddenly starts acting a bit different after fixing your laptop, and you wonder if it has anything to do with the endless posts you’ve made about wanting him to fuck you brainless. content warning: stepcest, voyeurism, masturbation, cheating, smoking and brief mentions of drug use, unprotected sex, hard dom jeno, oral (fem receiving), face riding weee, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, jeno is a bit mean (but like in a hot way), lmk if i missed any! a/n: haven’t written for jeno in soooo long and my body needed it. also, beatbox era jeno still has me in a chokehold, so i imagined him looking exactly like that while writing this. that mullet-undercut combo was LETHAL i need him to reheat his own nachos expeditiously. also the lowercase is back too, i'm still trying to figure out if i like this more lol ps: if u catch the twilight reference you’ll get a kiss from me :p

jeno stomped into your room, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket, jaw tight with irritation. your voice still echoed in his head.

‘fix my laptop and i won’t tell your dad you’ve been skipping almost every class since the semester started.’

fix it? he wasn’t a damn IT guy. and how the hell did you even know he’d been skipping? what were you, a stalker?

seriously, it wasn’t his fault you couldn’t take care of your stuff. and why couldn’t you just take the damn thing to a repair shop?

“i need it for college work,’ you’d said.

yeah, right. like he didn’t hear you at night. his room was right next to yours, and those walls were way too thin. not only were you loud, but you also needed headphones, because he could hear exactly what kind of videos you watched.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, stepping up to your desk. the laptop sat there, taunting him in its sickly sweet pink case covered in hello kitty stickers.

“god, what a child,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before plopping onto your chair. the cushion was still warm from you sitting there earlier. he flipped the laptop open, and a password prompt appeared.

he tried your birthday first. denied.

with a sigh, he scanned your desk. you were forgetful, he was sure you had the password written somewhere. his eyes landed on a cluster of polaroids, mostly of you and your boyfriend. he grabbed one and flipped it over. sure enough, there was a scribbled note in your messy handwriting.

‘happy anniversary, my baby ❤️’ and a date.

jeno scoffed but typed it in anyway. the screen unlocked with a soft chime.

the moment your desktop loaded, he was met with a picture of you sprawled out on a beach towel, skin sun-kissed, in a tiny white bikini that barely covered anything. jeno swallowed.

several seconds passed before he snapped himself out of it, shaking his head and forcing his attention elsewhere.

your laptop was a disaster. it was clogged with files, random downloads, and so many pop-ups it was a miracle the thing still functioned. he clicked around, deleting error files and clearing out junk.

then a notification popped up from a browser window that was open in the background.

he opened the tab out of habit, not expecting anything interesting, but then the page loaded and he had to blink twice to make sure he was seeing right.

it was a blog called ‘horny antidotes.’

"what the hell is this?" he snorted.

he scrolled, thumb hovering before tapping on a section labeled confessions. a list of posts loaded, the oldest ones stretching back to the beginning of last year. against his better judgment, he clicked the most recent entries.

i tried it again tonight. used my fingers since the new toys i got don’t really feel good either. i think my boyfriend’s starting to suspect something. it’s kinda weird that i barely get wet when he touches me (╥_╥) we even try watching porn together, but it does nothing for me. we just scroll through hundreds of videos and i feel nothing, while he gets hard so easily. so i end up sucking him off.

jeno’s brows lifted. jesus.

i get more turned on looking at pictures of LJN. but i can’t touch myself to him… it feels wrong. so i gotta find an alternative. any tips? (>д<)

LJN?

his lips parted. those were initials. your boyfriend’s? no… his.

L. J. N.

lee jeno.

his pulse jumped. before he could think better of it, his fingers typed LJN into the blog’s search bar.

hundreds of posts popped up.

he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

no fucking way.

today LJN helped me with my homework. he looked like he hated every second of it. it was hard to focus when he sat so close… his cologne makes me feel so… hot (/ω＼).

jeno dragged a hand down his face. he’s not imagining all this? right?

my boyfriend and i broke up again (kinda) (μ_μ). same reason as always… our sex life sucks. he thinks i’m not into him, but that’s not true. he tries… i just… anyway, LJN knocked on my door today. he was only wearing a towel. i almost dropped to my knees right there and then. how does someone get abs like that? god, those arms… veiny and strong… maybe i should call my boyfriend and try again…

a slow smirk stretched across jeno’s lips. so your boyfriend can’t get you off, but i make you wet that easily? he thought.

his gaze drifted to your bed. the sheets were a tangled mess, barely clinging to the mattress. did you write that post after touching yourself last night? thinking about him?

he exhaled through his nose, head shaking like he couldn’t believe it. but god, his stomach clenched at the thought of you squirming with his name in your head.

sure, he knew people found him attractive. girls threw themselves at him all the time. but you? who argued with him over stupid shit, called him an asshole just this morning while throwing a sock at his head?

you wanted him. wanted him so bad you spilled it online for strangers to read.

his gaze flicked back to the screen, to the words where you described his cologne driving you crazy.

he should’ve stopped reading but instead, he clicked on another post.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next morning, you woke up to find your laptop working perfectly. no note, no sarcastic comment scribbled on a post-it, nothing. just fixed.

weird.

you headed downstairs, fully expecting jeno to be in his usual morning mood, grumbling about chores, throwing half-hearted jabs just to rile you up. but when you found him on the couch, he was… quiet.

"hey," you said, grabbing a drink from the fridge. "so… thanks for fixing my laptop."

he barely glanced up, his gaze flickering over your bare legs for a heartbeat before settling back on his phone.

"yeah, no problem."

...that’s it?

you waited. no snark about your messy folders? no whining about how you owed him now?

your brows knit. "you okay?"

jeno stretched his legs, shorts riding up just enough to show more of his muscular thighs. "yeah, why wouldn’t i be?"

"i dunno," you said, eyeing him. "you’re acting weird."

he chuckled, head tilting as he shot you a lazy grin. "i’m always like this in the mornings. maybe you just don’t pay enough attention to me."

"trust me," you muttered, taking a sip from your drink, "i pay plenty of attention to you."

jeno’s lips twitched almost into a smirk.

then he hummed.

"yeah, i know."

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next few days, jeno turned it over in his mind—how to play this.

sure, the whole thing was entertaining, but you were still his stepsister. technically. your parents weren’t married, but they’d been together for about four years, and you’d been living under the same roof since last year.

not that you and jeno were close. you barely crossed paths, always out with friends or holed up in your room when you were home. plus, he found you immature. spoiled. maybe it was the three-year age gap, or maybe it was how quickly you’d settled in and made this place your own. his dad had asked him to be patient with you—“it’s a big change for her”—but if you were struggling, you hid it well.

especially with how you put on that perfect little act for your parents. sweet and responsible. as if you weren’t sneaking your boyfriend in through the window at night. or slipping out when you thought no one noticed. jeno noticed.

he just never cared enough to call you out. but the hypocrisy definitely grated on him. pretending to be miss goody-two-shoes when, by your own confession, you were getting railed by a guy who couldn’t even get you off?

the irony wasn’t lost on him. neither was the opportunity.

he could confront you. he’d definitely enjoy to watch you squirm, see that spark of defiance flicker into panic. tempting.

but maybe… maybe he’d keep this to himself a little longer.

drag it out and see just how much fun he could have before you caught on.

the perfect opportunity presented itself only a few days later when your parents announced their trip to italy for valentine’s day. conveniently their anniversary was also coming up, so they’d be gone for two whole weeks.

“we’ll be back next sunday,” jeno’s dad said, ruffling your hair. “don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone.”

you rolled your eyes, half-smiling, but then his tone shifted as he turned to jeno.

“jeno, take care of her. don’t let her get into any trouble. no parties or anything reckless.”

jeno nodded without a word, eyes flicking toward you before he turned back to your dad with a forced grin. “got it.”

you mom stepped forward, kissing your cheek, her hand lingering on your shoulder a moment longer. “be good, okay? we’re trusting you.” her gaze softened but held an unmistakable warning beneath it.

you knew exactly why. after all, it wasn’t like you had a spotless record. just three months ago, you had come home drunk after sneaking out to a friend’s party. what was supposed to be "just a few drinks" had turned into you singing on top of the table and someone posting it to their story. your parents found out the next morning, thanks to your neighbor, of all people, who’d seen the video. it hadn’t even been that scandalous, except for the fact that you were obviously drunk and under 21 at the time.

the hangover was bad, but the lecture was worse. "you’re lucky jeno was there to drag you home," your mom had said, shooting you a disappointed look. jeno had played the responsible older kid that night, carrying you out before things got worse. but that didn’t stop your parents from being more protective now. especially of you.

still, it annoyed you that all the warnings were directed your way while jeno stood there looking like a saint, when you knew he was anything but. sure, he hadn’t gotten wasted like you, but he was at the same party smoking weed on the back porch, making out with some girl whose name he probably didn’t even know, and encouraging shots like he was the party host. he was just lucky none of that was caught on camera, unlike you.

when the front door closed behind them, a strange silence settled over the house. you watched through the window as they loaded their luggage into the car and drove off. two weeks alone with jeno. what could possibly go wrong?

“guess it’s just us now,” you muttered.

jeno’s lips twitched into a small smile. "looks like it."

his gaze flickered over your body while you were distracted. this will be so much fun, he thought.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the house felt bigger without your parents around. normally, you’d take full advantage by inviting friends over, staying out late, and enjoying in the freedom. but something about being alone with jeno had you on edge.

not uncomfortable, just… wary.

he’d been acting strange lately. not openly, but enough that you noticed. it was in the way he looked at you now, like he knew something you didn’t.

you were scrolling through your phone in the kitchen that night when he strolled in.

"big plans while they’re gone?" he asked, pulling open the fridge.

"nothing crazy," you said, thumb still flicking at your screen. "just enjoying the peace and quiet."

he let out a low hum, the kind that sounded like he was holding back a laugh. "right. because you’re such a quiet, well-behaved girl."

your scrolling stopped. your gaze snapped up to him. "where’s that coming from?"

jeno didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer reaching past you for a glass in the cabinet overhead. the movement brought him close enough that his cologne hit you warm, musky, annoyingly good.

"you know," he murmured, voice just above a whisper, "you might fool them. but not me."

your heart skipped. "i have no idea what you’re talking about."

he dipped his head slightly, eyes flickering to your cleavage.

"sure you don’t."

then he was gone, leaving you in the kitchen with your pulse pounding and a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

the weekend arrived quicker than expected, and despite jeno’s weirdness lately, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

until saturday.

jeno was sprawled on the couch, mindlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. his gaze drifted up just as you wandered into the living room, barefoot and still in your sleepwear—a thin tank top and shorts that barely covered your ass. you didn’t even glance his way, too focused on your phone as you padded toward the kitchen.

it was almost funny, how careless you were around him. clueless, really.

jeno bit back a smirk.

"you’re up early," he said, breaking the quiet.

you glanced over your shoulder while pouring cereal into a bowl. "uh… yeah?"

he shrugged. "figured you’d be catching up on sleep after sneaking out last night."

your hand faltered for half a second. it was subtle but enough for him to notice.

his grin widened as he leaned back against the couch cushions, arms draping lazily over the backrest. "right."

you set the cereal down with a little more force than necessary and turned to face him, arms crossed. "okay, what’s going on with you?”

"me?" he feigned innocence, eyebrows raising. "nothing, just making conversation."

your eyes narrowed, studying him. when he offered nothing else, you scoffed and turned back to the counter, muttering under your breath.

he’d never cared before. never commented on where you went or what you did. why was he suddenly so interested in you?

jeno used to treat you like background noise, a mild inconvenience at worst. now his gaze lingered longer whenever you walked into the room, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your skin prickle in ways you didn’t want to think about.

later that evening, you curled up on the couch with your laptop, half-heartedly scrolling through an assignment you had no intention of finishing. jeno sat across from you, phone in hand, occasionally flicking through something with the tv playing low in the background. it was peaceful enough… until he spoke.

"you know…" he stretched, shirt riding up just enough to expose the waistband of his boxers. "your boyfriend kinda sucks."

your fingers froze mid-typing.

"what?" you asked, tone clipped. you didn’t look up, but your jaw tightened on instinct.

he hummed, "if i were sneaking out every night, i’d hope it was worth it."

you shut the laptop with a snap. "why do you even care?"

jeno grinned, clearly satisfied that he’d gotten under your skin. "i don’t."

you stood abruptly, blood buzzing with irritation. "whatever. i’m going to bed."

he chuckled under his breath as you turned to leave, but the sound grated on you. it echoed in your head as you stalked halfway down the hall before…no. screw that.

you spun on your heel, storming back into the living room. "you don’t know shit," you bit out.

jeno glanced up, unconcerned. "about what?"

"me. my boyfriend."

that finally got his full attention. he set his phone down and tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "oh, you mean the boyfriend who keeps getting dumped and crawling back like a stray?"

your nostrils flared. "fuck you."

"i’m just saying—"

"no, you’re not ‘just saying’ anything," you cut him off, stepping closer. "you think you know everything about me just because we share a roof?"

"you’d be surprised," he shot back, annoyingly calm.

your fists clenched. "you don’t know what i need. so stop acting like you do."

for a split second, something flickered in his expression, gone too fast to name. then his usual smirk slid back into place.

"i don’t need to know what you need." he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "i already know what you want."

your breath hitched. you hated that, hated the way your pulse jumped at his words, at the confidence in his voice. what the hell did that even mean?

"you’re an asshole," you snapped. "i don’t owe you an explanation."

jeno nodded, like he agreed. "then why are you still standing here?"

your face burned with frustration, but you bit your tongue. there was nothing you could say that wouldn’t make this worse. so you did the next best thing, you turned on your heel and walked away, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

and yet, lying in bed later, the back of your mind replayed his words on a loop. you still felt like you’d lost.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

hours passed and you were still pissed.

your whole body ached with it, hot and restless, like something crawling under your skin. jeno’s words sunk in deep, wrapping around you like barbed wire, too sharp, too true.

‘your boyfriend kinda sucks’ his voice rang in your ears.

no, your boyfriend was nearly perfect. he had all the right looks, the right voice, the right everything and yet… somehow, even after months of trying, of letting him touch you, of trying to want it—

you never got turned on with him. not the way you were now after a simple argument with jeno.

your hand moved before you could think, fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts, finding that sticky warmth between your thighs. a shaky breath left you, head tipping back against the pillows. it wasn’t enough. god, it wasn’t nearly enough. you needed—fuck, you didn’t even know what you needed. just more. something to fill the ache, to drown out the way his voice echoed in your head. i don’t need to know what you need. i already know what you want.

stop.

you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to picture your boyfriend, to think about the way he kissed you, the way he whispered your name, the way he touched you.

but your body rejected it. the images blurred, twisted, morphed.

and suddenly it wasn’t his hands you were thinking about.

It was jeno’s slender fingers.

your fingertips grazed that sensitive spot, slick and throbbing, pulling a broken sound from your lips. your hips rolled up into your hand, chasing any semblance of relief. you let out a quiet, shuddering breath as your stomach clenched, your pulse kicking up as you fought it, fought him, fought the way his image took over.

but it was useless.

your body didn’t listen. it latched onto the memory of him. the way his pretty lips curled right before he was about to say something you knew would piss you off, the way his voice dipped when he was toying with you, the way his hands always fidgeted, tapping against his thigh, against his lips, always doing something.

your lips parted as your fingers moved faster, your other hand slid up your stomach, pushing up your shirt as your breath stuttered.

would he keep his rings on while touching you?

the thought sent a sharp pulse of arousal through you, your body tightening, the wetness between your thighs growing slicker.

you imagined his long fingers and the coolness of the rings against your skin. would he drag them over your stomach, trace your thighs, tease you with them first? or would he shove them inside right away?

you bit your lip, your fingers pressing down harder, teasing yourself the way he would, the way he might if he ever—

a moan slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “jeno…”

outside your door, jeno’s world fucking stopped. his body was tight, his breath stuck in his throat as he pressed himself against the wood.

he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be standing outside your room, shouldn’t be looking through the small crack where the door hadn’t shut all the way.

but fuck.

fuck, you were so loud. did you even realize?

did you know how needy you sounded? the way your voice cracked, the way your breathing hitched, the way you whimpered when you…

jeno exhaled sharply, gripping the doorframe, trying to keep himself in check. but his mind was already too far gone. because if you were touching yourself to him, and if you were so desperate you couldn’t even keep quiet or make sure the the door was closed all the way… then maybe you wanted to get caught.

maybe you wanted him to see.

his breath came out slow and measured as he peeked through the crack, his body heating at the sight before him. the dim glow of your bedside lamp cast soft shadows over your skin, your legs spread wide, fingers buried deep inside yourself. the slick sounds of your movements, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted as you moaned his name. fuck, it was too much.

he felt himself throbbing painfully against his sweats, already aching from just watching you. his cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

he pulled himself out, his fingers wrapping around the thick length, hot and pulsing in his palm. he let out a sharp breath as he started stroking himself, matching his pace to the rhythm of your fingers slipping in and out of your pretty cunt.

he wanted to be the one touching you.

he imagined it, his fingers stretching you open, pumping in and out, his thumb circling your clit until you were shaking, whimpering against his mouth. would you let him fuck you raw the first time? god, you’d feel so good around him, so tight, clenching down on him like you never wanted him to pull out. he let out a quiet groan, biting his lip to keep himself from making any noise, even though part of him wanted you to hear him, wanted you to know exactly what you were doing to him.

your moans were getting louder, your breaths coming faster, more frantic. you were close, he could tell, your body was begging for release, and he wished, more than anything, that he could be the one to push you over the edge.

he knew that no one else could make you feel like this. not even your boyfriend, the one you pretended was enough for you. that idiot had the privilege of touching you, of being inside you, and still you weren’t getting off on thoughts of him. no, it was jeno’s name spilling from your lips as you fucked yourself.

his hand tightened around his cock, his strokes quickening. "cum for me, baby," he whispered under his breath, his forehead pressing harder against the doorframe.

maybe you heard him, maybe you didn’t, but your moans pitched higher, your fingers moving faster, your body trembling on the other side of the door. fuck—you were close, so fucking close, and he was right there with you. his jaw went slack, his breaths coming in ragged pants as the pleasure slammed into him, hot and heavy. his cock pulsed, his body shaking, cum spilling over his fingers in thick streaks as he saw you falling apart in your bed at the same time.

his body tensed, every nerve sparking as he milked himself through the high, swallowing back the urge to moan out your name. he barely had the presence of mind to tuck himself back into his sweats before he started dripping onto the carpet. that would’ve been a dead giveaway. but even as he came down from it, the heat in his chest didn’t fade. because now he knew just how badly you wanted him.

and he wasn’t going to just let it go.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

so, he was back outside your room the following night.

your door was closed all the way this time. he swallowed hard, his pulse hammering as he curled his fingers around the doorknob, testing it. it turned just a fraction before stopping. it was locked. he expected this. he had the feeling you suspected he’d seen you or at least heard you last night because you were unusually fidgety around him earlier today.

he exhaled slowly, lowering himself down until his face was level with the keyhole, his breath shallow as he listened. the obscene sounds of your fingers working between your thighs were unmistakable, each wet stroke sending another pulse of heat straight to his cock. he knew you were thinking about him again. your boyfriend wasn’t here, who the fuck else would you be touching yourself to?

he let his hand trail down, palming himself over his sweats, but this time, it wasn’t enough. he needed more.

his fingers drifted down to his pocket, curling around the small, thin tool he’d stolen from mark’s junk drawer earlier. jeno wasn’t an idiot, he knew to be prepared this time. hearing wouldn’t do it for him, he needed to see you again.

he slid the tool into the keyhole, his other hand steadying the knob as he worked it. it wasn’t his first time picking a lock. he’d done it plenty of times as a teen, sneaking into forbidden rooms at school, usually to make out with random girls. but this was different. he was breaking into his stepsister’s room so he could watch her touch herself. his hands itched, his whole body thrumming with a dangerous kind of thrill.

the lock gave a quiet click and he held his breath trying to listen for any indication that you noticed. after he thought it was safe, he twisted the handle and pushed the door just enough to crack it open.

and fuck, what a sight it was.

you were sprawled on your bed, your legs were in a butterfly position this time, your skin glistening with sweat. your shirt was hiked up all the way giving him the perfect sight of your tits. your panties were pushed down completely and he could see the way your fingers disappeared inside you. his name started slipping from your lips again, breathy, ruined. he clenched his jaw, his cock started to throb painfully at the sight.

you were so fucking beautiful like this. needy, desperate, chasing a high that only he could truly give you.

he licked his lips, watching the way your back arched, your fingers curling inside you as you edged yourself closer. his own hand slipped into his sweats, wrapping around his length, stroking slow, lazy, savoring the moment. he should leave. should close the door and pretend this never happened. but instead, he kept watching, his lips parting in a silent exhale as he imagined once again what it would be like to replace your fingers with his own.

or better yet, his cock.

you had no idea he was here. no idea you were putting on a show just for him.

there was no way in hell he was going to stop now.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you’d been locking your door more often now. you weren’t sure why. it didn’t make sense, but the feeling just wouldn’t go away. the feeling that you were being watched.

maybe it was the fact that you thought you heard a moan outside your door the other night. or maybe the fact that your panties had mysteriously gone missing from the laundry basket. and there was only one other person living with you at the moment. you tried to tell yourself it was paranoia. after all, why would jeno do something like that? he didn’t have fantasies like you, right?

still, something felt different when he was around. especially when you bumped into him in the kitchen or living room. the tension was so thick as if the space between you was charged, waiting for something, or someone, to cross the line.

you tried to distract yourself, flicking through jersey shore reruns with half your mind still on him. but as soon as you heard footsteps approaching, your pulse spiked. your body clearly not knowing the difference between riding a roller coaster, and your stepbrother entering the room.

you glanced up, trying to force a bored expression. the moment your eyes landed on him, however, everything in you froze. his damp hair stuck to his forehead, a towel draped loosely around his neck. his sweatpants hung low on his hips, his boxers peeking, and the way his white shirt clung to his chest made it feel like the room was closing in around you.

you swallowed hard.

he caught your gaze, and for a split second, it felt like he saw right through you. like he knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling. but he didn’t say anything. he just walked over, sitting close enough that his leg brushed against yours. the space between you was so small, but it felt like a chasm, a void that you couldn’t bridge. you couldn’t move. not when your body was so painfully aware of him.

“you like this trash?” his voice was casual, but his eyes were anything but. they were on you, studying you.

you blinked, the question throwing you off guard. you hadn’t even realized he was talking about the show until he nodded toward it. “uh... yeah. it’s... entertaining,” you stammered, your voice sounding foreign in your own ears. you wanted to say more, to defend it, but the words wouldn’t come. your mind was fixated on him.

you tried to focus on the screen, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. his towel slipping from his shoulders, water droplets sliding down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. you could feel that familiar flutter in your lower stomach.

your fingers twitched, desperate to do something, anything, to alleviate the tightness.

jeno tilted his head slightly, his lips pulling into that almost imperceptible smirk, the one that made you want to either scream or crawl into him.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, but there was something dangerous underneath. “you look tense.”

you didn’t answer immediately. instead, you shifted uncomfortably, your pulse hammering in your ears. he didn’t push, but the way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he had you cornered.

suddenly, the doorbell rang, and you shot up from the couch like you’d been electrocuted. your pulse was still racing, your thoughts tangled in knots you didn’t want to acknowledge. this was good. maybe whoever was at the door would shake you out of this haze.

but the second you opened it, you almost wished you hadn’t.

your boyfriend…or ex? you didn’t even know anymore, stood there holding a single rose in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other.

“happy valentine’s day,” he greeted, flashing that charming smile he knew melted you.

your eyes widened. you’d been so distracted you totally forgot the date. damn you, lee jeno.

“i’m sorry i didn’t call in advance,” he pushed the rose into your hand and leaned to kiss you “and i know we agreed to take a break… still, i couldn't just not come today…”

he lifted the bag on his other hand. “movie?”

you forced a smile, your stomach twisting guiltily for a second. even though your relationship was a bit unstable as of late, valentine’s wasn’t something you ever wanted to half-ass so it was a good thing you’d planned ahead.

you bought his gift the previous week, carefully wrapping the box yourself because you wanted it to feel special. a pair of shoes he’d been eyeing for months, a new band for his apple watch since his favorite one had broken recently, and a handwritten letter tucked inside, detailing how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him. You even spent extra time decorating the envelope, adding little doodles and stickers just to make him smile.

you should've felt some kind of relief, his presence should distract you from the wild thoughts swirling in your head. but as you stepped aside to let him in, that sense of relief never came.

because the moment you turned back, you remembered jeno was still there on the couch. you silently willed him with your mind to go to his room, maybe leave altogether.

but of course he didn’t.

“oh. hey, dude” your boyfriend said as he finally noticed him. “didn’t know your brother was here.”

you winced. that word. brother. your tongue itched to correct him, but what was the point? he knew you weren’t really siblings. he just chose to say it anyway.

jeno let the word hang in the air before he finally stood up, stretching his arms over his head before settling into a straighter posture. he never stood that straight, but he was making sure to show that he was at least two inches taller than your boyfriend. It was a subtle move, but you saw it for what it was. a challenge.

you almost scoffed at the sheer pettiness of it.

“ah, hello…” jeno drawled. “sorry, remind me of your name again?”

your boyfriend told him, his tone polite but slightly stiff.

“right,” jeno said, half-smiling. “didn’t know we’d be having visitors today…”

your boyfriend cleared his throat. “ah, that’s my bad. i didn’t tell her I was coming since I wanted to surprise her for Valentine’s”

“hm,” Jeno hummed. “well... as long as you two keep it in the living room, should be fine. gotta look out for my little sister while the parents are out, you know?”

you squeezed your eyes shut for half a second, inhaling slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm. he never called you that. also, who did he think he was playing house police all of a sudden?

“sit down, babe,” you said, your tone so sweet it sounded forced.

jeno scoffed under his breath, soft enough that only you heard it.

you ignored it, settling onto the couch as he disappeared into the kitchen. your boyfriend sat beside you, oblivious, scrolling through movies, while you shoved a chip into your mouth just to distract your mind.

suddenly, you heard clattering from the kitchen followed by a curse.

“uh, y/n… can you come help me real quick?”

you squeezed your eyes shut.

“what did you break now?” you called, already exasperated.

"your mom’s china," he called back. "think i broke like two plates. maybe three. hard to say. pretty sure she’ll notice, though."

shit. you were on your feet before you could think, muttering a quick, “sorry, i’ll be right back,” as you hurried toward the kitchen.

the moment you stepped inside, irritation flared hotter in your chest.

“are you kidding me? what were you even doing near those? my mom explicitly said—” you voiced trailed off when you saw there was no broken china. no mess. nothing.

just jeno, standing there with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk so infuriating you wanted to slap it off his face.

your hands curled into fists. “what are you doing?”

“really?” he ignored your glare, tilting his head mockingly. “he brought snacks and a single rose?” he let out a dry chuckle. “it’s valentine’s day for god’s sake, he could’ve at least tried.”

“i like simple things,” you shot back. “i don’t need a big fucking production”

jeno took a step closer making your breath get stuck in your throat. he wasn’t touching you, wasn’t even crowding you, but fuck he might as well have been, with the way your body tensed.

his voice dropped lower. “are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

he clearly wanted to get a reaction out of you and you refused to give it to him.

his gaze flicked down to your lips, pursed at him, and yet so pretty. he could still remember them parting and gasping his name last night.

"bet it gets tiring to pretend so much” he leaned in slightly.

you took a sharp step back.

“just… get out of my business,” you snapped, breath uneven.

jeno’s lips curled. “sure thing.” his eyes glinted with dark amusement. “hope you have fun with mr. buzzkill.”

your jaw clenched as you spun on your heel, storming back to the living room. who the hell did he think he was? since when did he have an opinion on your love life? he’d never cared before, never questioned, never even acknowledged it. so why now?

he kept pushing, prodding, playing with you.

and the worst part was that you were letting him. you knew you should ignore him. his opinion didn’t matter anyways.

so why couldn’t you stop paying attention to him?

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you decided to push jeno out of your mind, and what better way than by surrounding yourself with people you actually liked?

a pool party seemed like the perfect distraction. it was nothing too crazy, just a few close friends from college. the weather had been unusually nice all week, the kind of warmth that made everything feel a little hazy, the sun kissing your skin as you lay stretched out on a lounge chair, still damp from your swim. it was the perfect excuse to bask in the sun, let the tension ease from your body, and pretend jeno didn’t exist.

jenny, lying beside you on her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and let out an exaggerated sigh. “by the way, where’s your hot brother?”

you sighed, not even bothering to open your eyes. “stop calling him that. people might actually think i'm related to that jerk.”

“honestly, though,” natty chimed in, rubbing tanning oil on her arms. “how have you not jumped his bones yet? he’s so fine.”

you scoffed, finally cracking an eye open to glare at her. “he’s really not all that. if you guys lived with him, you wouldn’t think like this.”

jenny turned onto her side, her smirk downright sinful. “girl, if i lived with him i'd let him do unspeakable things to me every night.”

you fingers tightened around your drink as something hot and unwanted curled low in your stomach. if only they knew the things you did thinking about him late at night.

belle made a face from where she sat at the edge of the pool. “you guys are gross.”

jenny just shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “why? they’re not even related.”

belle wrinkled her nose. “yes, but they live together. it’s still weird.”

jenny hummed, resting her chin on her shoulder as she eyed you knowingly. “whatever, i meant what i said.”

“does he have a girlfriend?” natty asked, stretching her legs out as she adjusted her sunglasses.

you shrugged, taking another sip of your piña colada. “i don’t know. i mean, he barely leaves the house. i doubt he has much of a social life… probably the most socially inept guy i’ve ever met.” the words left your mouth lazily, but the moment they did, a shadow loomed over you, blocking out the sun.

you didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

you tilted your head back after a few seconds of silently cursing your big mouth. your heart did a million backflips as you locked eyes with jeno, who was now standing directly behind your chair. his head was tilted just slightly, a slow smirk playing at his lips.

you gulped slowly, and wished the chair would just swallow you whole. did he hear what you just said?

his gaze flickered over you, amused, but there was something heavier in the way his eyes traced over your bikini-clad figure. and then you realized he wasn’t in his usual hoodie and sweatpants. instead, he wore a fitted jean jacket over a graphic tee from a band you didn’t recognize, paired with tight black jeans. even his hair was styled, it looked like he got a fresh undercut, even added some designs on the side. he felt like an entirely different person. he looked good. too good.

“hello, ladies,” he greeted smoothly, his voice deep.

your friends giggled, but you barely registered them because jeno’s attention was back on you in a second.

“does dad know you’re having a party?” he asked, his voice had a teasing lilt to it, but there was something slightly patronizing underneath.

you rolled your eyes. “it’s just a few people.” get off my ass, you almost added but bit your tongue.

his smirk didn’t falter. “mhm… hope so, ‘cause he can see everything through those.” he pointed toward the security cameras, and something about the way he said it made irritation prickle at your skin.

he had the audacity to call your boyfriend a buzzkill, yet here he was, trying to kill any potential fun you could have.

“anyway,” he continued, “this socially inept guy is heading out.”

you breath caught in your throat. so he did hear you.

his eyes flickered over your body once more, and before you could respond, his hand brushed over your shoulder in a touch so fleeting, so meaningless, it shouldn’t have made your entire body lock up the way it did.

“call me if there’s an emergency,” he said. “be good, yeah?”

the second he was out of earshot, the giggles started back up, hushed and scandalized. your skin still burned where his touch had ghosted over you, and you hated that you wanted to turn your head, watch him leave, memorize the way he looked just now.

you swallowed hard, pressing your cold glass against your lips and forcing yourself to pretend that none of it affected you.

after several minutes of listening to your friends gush about jeno, how good he looked, how he smelled like expensive cologne, blah blah blah, you decided you’d had enough. you pushed yourself up from the lounge chair and made your way inside with the excuse of refilling your drink.

as you passed through the living room, a flicker of movement outside caught your eye. jeno was still there, standing near the edge of the sidewalk. his fingers dipped into his pocket, retrieving something small, and curiosity got the better of you. you squinted, trying to make out what he was holding.

despite knowing better, you grabbed a lightweight cover-up dress from the hook by the door and slipped it over your shoulders before stepping outside. the afternoon air carried the scent of chlorine and the faintest trace of citrus from the trees lining the house.

“since when do you smoke?” you asked, approaching him cautiously.

jeno turned his head slightly. the corner of his lips curled in that maddening way of his. without breaking eye contact, he placed the cigarette between his lips, the unlit end resting against the soft curve of his mouth.

“i don’t,” he said dismissively but then, he struck a match against his finger and the tiny flame came to life. the sight of it held your attention for just a second too long. probably because you’d never seen anyone light a match like that, or the fact that he was gaslighting you so casually.

“i thought you said you were going to hang out with friends,” you pressed, crossing your arms as you watched the flame kiss the tip of the cigarette.

“i said i was going to hang out,” he corrected, taking a slow drag before exhaling it in your direction, the smoke curling between you. “i didn't say with friends.”

you barely resisted the urge to cough, your throat tightening at the thick scent of tobacco. before you could call him out on this, the low rumble of an engine broke through the silence.

a black jeep screeched to a stop at the foot of your driveway, tires skidding slightly against the pavement. you instinctively took a step back as the vehicle came to a jarring halt. the tinted window rolled down, revealing a girl with jet-black hair that framed her face in glossy waves. he lips, painted a deep cherry red, curved into a smile that was just a little too perfect.

“sorry, i’m late!” she said, her voice airy, with a sing-song quality that immediately set your teeth on edge “there was so much traffic.”

“sure you didn’t just get pulled over for reckless driving?” jeno chuckled before taking another slow drag from his cigarette.

“mo, silly!” she giggled, her voice turning annoyingly flirtatious as she leaned a little closer over the window. “did you doll up just for me?”

“sure,” jeno replied casually. you didn’t catch the way his eyes flicked to you for just a split second because you were busy trying to mask the seething annoyance that was threatening to show in your expression. you didn’t even know this girl, and yet, the way she was acting was irritating you deeply.

“let me drive,” jeno said, pulling the door open for her to step out. you noticed the way she purposely wobbled slightly to fall directly into his arms.

“careful,” he said, his voice deep and resonant as he steadied her, the sound of it sending a heavy vibration through your chest.

“if your wet blanket of a boyfriend shows up later,” he continued once inside the car, his words laced with a hint of condescension, “just try not to fuck around in the pool, okay? remember, someone’s always watching.” the way he said that left a strange, uneasy knot in your stomach, the implication of his words lingering far too long.

before you could even muster a response, he slammed the jeep into gear and drove off.

it was around 9 pm when you decided to call it a night. your boyfriend hadn’t even shown up. he claimed he had to help his dad with “stuff” but you hadn’t really paid attention to the details. you weren’t interested in hearing excuses anyway.

your friends pouted, complaining that you should let them stay and have a sleepover, but you weren’t in the mood. they only left after you promised to do it another time.

you wandered upstairs, feeling the fatigue from the evening settle in your bones. the water from the shower was almost too hot, but you welcomed the burn as it stripped the chlorine from your skin. you lingered under the steam, savoring the quiet of the house.

once you were done, you meticulously moisturized your skin with extra attention to the dryness that clung to your arms after the pool and the heat of the shower. you threw on your usual pjs, a loose tank top and shorts. you thought of the way jeno’s dark eyes followed you whenever you wore them.

you made your way to the living room and sank onto the couch to watch tv, hyper aware of the ticking sound of the clock. the hands crept closer to 11 p.m. and you found your thoughts drifting despite your best attempts to focus. jeno’s face floated into your mind, his dark eyes flickering with amusement whenever he saw you. you tried to push it away but your mind kept returning to him and that girl with jet-black hair.

the sting of your nails digging into the palsn of your hands is what snapped you out of it. the thought of him with her… doing what? it didn’t even matter. why should it matter?

you decided to go to bed after realizing it was stupid to wait for him to come back.

it was around 2 am when you were jerked awake by the sound of shuffling outside your door. you heard a giggle followed by a hushed voice right before your door creaked open, and you quickly squeezed your eyes shut again.

"shit, wrong room," you heard jeno whisper, and your breath caught in your throat. you opened one eye just enough to see him standing in the doorway, the girl with jet-black hair practically draped around his neck.

she pulled him down into a kiss, and you watched, frozen, as they made out right there in front of your door. her soft moans echoed through the space along with the sounds of their hands fondling each other’s bodies.

they continued, oblivious to the fact that you were very much awake, until jeno finally pulled the door closed behind him, muffling the noises just enough for you to breathe again.

the anger hit you immediately, and the indignation that followed was almost comical in its intensity. with what face had he told you not to "mess around" at home because your parents were always watching, only to go and do this? right in front of your room, no less?

you heard the shuffle of movement in his room next door, and a chilling realization sank in.

they were about to have sex, and you’d hear every damn second of it.

it wasn’t like you’d never snuck your boyfriend in late at night before. But all you ever did was suck him off or let him finger you. you never actually had proper sex. not for lack of trying, but rather the issues you’d been having getting… aroused with him.

the moans started, soft at first, then louder. each sound felt like a needle, digging deeper into the pit of your stomach. you squeezed your eyes shut again, wishing, begging to be anywhere but within earshot of the noise that now felt like it was tearing your insides apart.

you could hear everything. the soft thuds of their clothes hitting the floor, the creak of the mattress as they fell onto it. jeno’s rough groans, the breathless whimpers he tried and failed to suppress. the wet, obscene sounds of him moving inside her. the desperate gasps, the frantic whisper of his name from her lips. their mouths meeting over and over again, the muffled, needy sounds of them colliding filling the space.

every movement, every noise, was painfully clear, as if you were right there in the room with them.

you wanted to disappear. crawl under your bed. evaporate into the walls. oh, the walls. the godforsaken, paper-thin walls that some sadistic architect clearly designed just to ruin your life.

you pressed a pillow over your head, begging for the sounds to stop, but it was useless. they only grew louder.

“jeno… i’m close,” she whimpered, voice high and shaking.

“cum for me…” he responded, breathless.

and suddenly, amidst the debauchery of sounds, you heard it.

your name.

spoken in a broken moan.

your breath stilled. for a second, you thought you must have imagined it, that your mind was playing a cruel trick on you. but then—

you heard it again. louder. needier.

jeno was calling your name as he came.

a paralyzing shock shot through you, pinning you to the mattress. your pulse hammering so hard you thought your heart might bruise your chest cavity. you stared at the ceiling, unblinking, as his moans settled over you like a suffocating weight.

silence followed, broken only by their uneven breaths. then you heard the rustle of sheets as they untangled from each other.

“can i stay the night?” the girl asked, her voice still heavy with satisfaction.

“no,” jeno said, voice oddly cold and detached. “my parents are gonna be here in the morning.”

that was a lie. your parents weren’t coming back until the following weekend.

you were still too shocked to move, too shaken to process what had just happened. but as you listened to her gather her things, to the sound of jeno walking her to the door without so much as an ounce of warmth in his tone, one thing became terrifyingly clear...

he hadn’t just used her. he’d been thinking about you while doing so.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you didn’t sleep. not for a single minute.

the shadows in your room shifted as the hours crawled by. it felt impossible to close your eyes without hearing it all over again. your name on his lips.

when your phone screen finally read 6:00 a.m, you gave up on sleep entirely, throwing off the sheets and slipping out of bed like a ghost.

you tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, fingers numb as you grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim. the cold water slid down your throat in greedy gulps, but it did nothing to cool yourself.

then, a breathless laugh tore from your lips, unhinged and bitter. the sheer absurdity of it all crashed into you at once, like a sick joke the universe decided to play on you. jeno had been inside another girl, and yet, it was your name that spilled out of his lips.

the laughter bubbled up harder. it must have been loud enough to wake him, because a few moments later, footsteps padded into the kitchen.

jeno stood in the doorway, eyes heavy with sleep, brows pinched together as he took in the sight of you, your back was turned to him, shoulders trembling with laughter that didn’t seem to belong to you.

“the hell is wrong with you?” his voice was groggy.

you stopped, forcing the manic grin off your face before turning slightly away, shielding yourself from his scrutiny. god, if he saw the way you were smiling right now, he really would think you lost your mind.

“are you high?” he asked, a little more forcefully this time.

you let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. i wish. maybe if you were high, this wouldn’t feel so real. maybe you wouldn’t still hear his voice in your head from the night before, broken and desperate, calling for you.

a shiver ran down your spine when you felt jeno move closer behind you. you could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, the faint smell of sleep and last night’s scent clinging to him. his hand clamped down on your shoulder, turning you around with an impatient tug.

“no, seriously.” his voice was lower now, forcing you to meet his gaze. “did you do drugs last night?”

your breath hitched when his chest brushed against yours, and that’s when you remembered you weren’t wearing a bra. the thin fabric of your tank top did nothing to hide the way your nipples hardened at the contact.

you saw the flicker in his expression, the brief second of realization when his gaze dropped.

“what do you care?” you shot back instead, tilting your chin up defiantly.

you liked the way his jaw ticked when you pushed him.

his grip on your chin was sudden, firm, tilting your face until your eyes locked with his. his fingers were rough and the touch sent something dark and electric crackling under your skin.

you ripped yourself from his grasp, grimacing. “don’t touch me. i know where that hand has been.”

jeno laughed, a rich sound that made your throat close.

“oh, so you heard.”

you scoffed. “of course i heard. it was impossible not to when you were being so loud.”

his smirk deepened. “then you know my struggle.”

he stepped forward, pressed you further against the counter until there was barely any air between your bodies. this was the closest you had ever been to him.

your heart slammed against your ribs, but you refused to shrink away. if anything, it only made you glare harder, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

“i hear everything you do in your room too.”

he paused, letting his finger curl around a stray hair falling over your face.

“every night.”

your lips parted, but nothing came out except a sharp inhale.

his eyes fluttered across your features, lingering on your lips, still wet from the water you just drank.

“wh-what…”

“yeah.” his grin grew sharper, his perfect teeth peeking out to tug at his lower lip. “every time you sneak your dumbass boyfriend in.”

his fingers brushed against the counter beside you, caging you in completely.

“every time you touch yourself…”

you swallowed, looking between his neck and shoulder, unable to meet his dark eyes.

“and you do that a lot lately.”

you gulped to soothe your dry throat, wishing he couldn’t somehow smell how aroused you were getting. you hated the way your body reacted to him, how your thighs pressed together on instinct. he noticed. the bastard always noticed everything.

he was still pressed so close you could feel the steady rise and fall of his hard chest against yours, the heat of his skin bleeding into yours like fire licking at gasoline.

“i—” you started, but your voice cracked.

jeno tilted his head, “what?” his voice was a murmur meant for just the two of you. his lips curved, but the smile wasn’t kind, it was wicked. “got nothing to say now?”

you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your stomach twisted into knots. “fuck you.”

his smile widened. “i mean, that’s what you always think about, isn’t it?” he murmured.

your breath caught in your throat. he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear that you felt the ghost of them graze your skin.

“you touch yourself thinking about me.”

a wave of heat crawled up your neck. you shouldn’t be reacting this way. shouldn’t be giving yourself away this easily.

you inhaled sharply, gathering every ounce of strength left in your body before shoving at his chest, pushing him away. he let you, barely stumbling back.

“go to hell, jeno.”

you turned on your heel, ready to storm out, to get as far away from him as possible—

but you barely made it two steps before his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. he yanked you back against him, spinning you around so fast that you barely had time to register the shift before your back was against the counter again, his body crowding yours.

his grip tightened, but not enough to hurt just enough to hold you there.

"what are you doing?" you demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. "i have a boyfriend."

he laughed bitterly "oh, please. we both know he doesn’t even make you wet."

“how do you—?” you swallowed, barely able to get the words out.

the realization suddenly settled like lead in your gut. he read it. your blog. the one you used to vent frustrations you couldn’t say out loud, the one that held every unspoken insecurity, every late-night confession you never meant for anyone to see. every filthy thought about him.

and jeno of all people had gotten his hands on it. that’s why he’d been acting so strange lately.

your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, not pulling him closer, but gripping like you needed something to hold onto before you lost your mind.

his smirk deepened as he saw the expression of horror in your face.

“you should really clear your browser history,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “or, better yet…maybe don’t keep the tabs open on a laptop you asked me to fix.”

the bastard wasn’t even sorry for invading your privacy.

your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to school your expression, trying to make it seem like you weren't two seconds away from spiraling.

“i don’t—” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

he leaned in, voice dipping lower. “oh don’t quit on me now. you had plenty to say in that little blog of yours.”

his fingers traced your jaw softly.

“especially about me.”

he grinned, teeth grazing his bottom lip as he watched your reaction unfold in real time. “what was it you said?” he pretended to think. “oh, right. he pisses me off more than anyone else, but i bet he fucks like a god.’”

you shoved him again but he barely stumbled, just let out a low chuckle like he was thrilled by your anger.

“what’s wrong?” he taunted. “embarrassed?”

“shut up.”

“aww, c’mon, don’t be shy now. i read the whole thing, you’ve definitely thought about this exact moment before.”

you wanted to die. right there on the kitchen floor. just disintegrate and never have to endure the smug, self-satisfied look on his face ever again.

but worse than the embarrassment? worse than the rage twisting inside you like a coil ready to snap?

was the terrifying, undeniable truth.

he knew you wanted him.

jeno moved closer, and you instinctively backed into the counter, your hands gripping the cool edge.

his smirk was insufferable. giddy, almost.

“god, you should see your face right now,” he murmured, tilting his head. “all pink and flustered. just like i imagined.”

your eyes darted across his face in shock.

“oh yeah,” he continued, watching the realization flicker in your eyes. “you’re not the only one who’s fantasized about this, baby”

“i don’t fantasize,” you said quickly, hoping to salvage some dignity.

jeno just laughed. “save it.”

he reached up, tucking another stray strand of hair behind your ear, the way someone might handle something delicate, except the glint in his eye was anything but soft.

“i said i read everything,” he reminded you, voice dripping with satisfaction. “i even memorized that one post, the one where you talk about my fingers—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence.

bad move. because now his lips were pressed against your palm, his breath hot against your skin. and he didn’t pull away.

instead, his dark eyes locked onto yours making your pulse stutter. he reached up, prying your hand away from his mouth, but instead of letting it go, he brought it lower flat against his bare chest, over the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“i like knowing your secrets,” he murmured. “i like knowing what gets in that pretty little head of yours late at night.”

your stomach flipped.

“and you know what i like the most?” he dipped his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “i like knowing that no matter how much you fight me on this,” he whispered, “you’ve already given yourself to me.”

his lips brushed from your ear down to the corner of your mouth, until finally, they met yours. you barely registered how easily your lips parted for him until his tongue slid in, claiming you. a groan slipped out before you could stop it.

you knew you should push him away. you should. but the thought barely even formed before it was gone, lost in the heat of his mouth.

"aren’t you gonna stop me?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to make you chase his lips.

you didn’t move, didn’t shove him away, didn’t say a damn thing.

his lips curled. "didn’t think so.”

then he kissed you harder, rougher. his fingers cradling your face while his other hand slid lower, gripping a handful of your ass. you gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

his knee pressed between your legs, shifting just right, and you moaned. his lips curved against yours. "there’s my good girl."

heat flared up your spine, equal parts humiliation and arousal. some semblance of reason came over you and you pushed at his chest, but he caught your wrist, pinning it against the counter.

"you wrote about how bad you wanted me to take you right here in this kitchen," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. "want me to remind you?"

"shut up," you groaned, twisting your wrist free and shoving at him properly this time.

he didn’t budge. he only laughed, nipping at your lower lip before angling your face up, kissing you deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. his hand slid from your ass to your thigh, hiking it higher around his hip.

the new angle made you feel him, every inch of his hard length pressing right against your core, and you gasped. he thrust against you and the groan he let out sent a pulse of heat straight to your stomach.

"fuck," he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours, his hips rolling again. "you feel that?"

your fingers curled into his shirt, whimpers spilling out of you as he kept humping you.

jeno’s grip tightened on your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked against you, his breath hot against your lips. “look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker. “clinging to me like this when you were just pretending to hate me a few minutes ago.”

you opened your mouth to argue, to deny, but all that came out was a sharp gasp as his hands slid under your tank top, fingers tracing lazy patterns up your ribs until they found your perked nipple. his knee pressed more insistently between your legs.

“jen—”

“shh.” he breathed against your lips. “you don’t have to say anything. your body’s already telling me everything i need to know.”

the way his lips ghosted over your jaw, then down your throat, made your breath hitch. you felt like you were drowning in the way he touched you, just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you what you really wanted.

“you’ve thought about this,” he mused, voice laced with satisfaction as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. “haven’t you? late at night, when you’re all alone…”

your nails dug into his shoulders as he ground against you again, harder this time. he was right. and that infuriated you.

“jeno,” you hissed, half warning, half plea.

“say it,” he murmured against your skin, hands slipping lower. “say you want me.”

you couldn’t do that. you still wanted to cling to some semblance of dignity. but then his fingers slipped inside your shorts, and the illusion that you ever stood a chance shattered.

your gasp turned into a strangled moan as his fingers dipped between your soaked folds, tracing slow circles, teasing you with featherlight strokes that had you melting against him. his breath was hot against your temple.

“if you don’t want this,” he murmured, “then maybe we should stop.”

and just like that, he started to retreat, his touch vanishing like a cruel tease.

“no,” you choked out, your hand gripping his wrist before he could pull away completely. “don’t stop… please.”

he tilted his head, savoring every ounce of your desperation. “you sure?” he mused, feigning innocence even as his lips, swollen and slick, curled into something devilish. “because if you think this is wrong, we really should stop.”

the bastard was toying with you, and worst of all, you found it maddeningly hot.

your nails dug into his arm, your body thrumming with frustration and need. “jeno,” you warned, voice dangerously low. “if you don’t touch me right now, i’ll go upstairs and do it myself.”

you saw the moment his pupils dilated, a dark, almost feral hunger flashing in his eyes.

“oh, princess,” he crooned, his hand slipping back into your shorts in an instant, fingers resuming their torment with renewed urgency. “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

but instead of touching you like you needed, he yanked your shorts down, your panties dragging along with them in one swift motion. before you could form a single word, he hoisted you onto the counter with ease, the hard surface pressing into the backs of your thighs. your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip tightened, keeping you open for him.

and then he dropped to his knees.

your stomach plummeted, anticipation coiling so tightly inside you that you felt dizzy. he looked up at you from beneath his thick lashes, eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with hunger. his hands dragged slowly up the inside of your thighs, spreading them further. his tongue darted out, wetting his lips like he was about to devour the best meal ever.

your walls clenched around nothing.

“jeno—” his name came out in a broken gasp.

“you’re shaking,” his breath ghosted over your core, making you jolt, making you ache. "what’s wrong, baby? nervous?"

the way his voice curled around the word baby, sent a fresh wave of heat straight between your legs. but you didn’t get the chance to answer.

because then he dove between your thighs.

the first stroke of his tongue had you gasping, hands flying to his hair as your head snapped back against the cabinets. the heat of his mouth had your body jerking before you could stop yourself, pleasure so intense it almost hurt.

his hands flexed against your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you still as he licked deep into you. and when he groaned you nearly lost it. the vibration shot straight through you, your stomach clenching, your thighs twitching against his grip.

“jeno—” his name was barely a breath, a desperate sound that made him hum against you, pleased. he pulled back just enough for his lips to brush over your skin.

“god, you taste even better than i imagined” he rasped.

and then he was back on you, tongue working faster, fingers digging into your thighs like he needed this, like he was getting off on the way you gasped, the way your body trembled under his mouth.

he wasn’t just eating you out. he was devouring you.

his tongue moved in slow strokes, drawing out every whimper that spilled from your lips. you tugged at his hair, grinding down harder, but he just chuckled against you. cocky bastard.

“needy, huh?” he murmured between licks. “thought you could handle it.”

you barely registered his words, too caught up in the way he worked you open. but then he pulled away, making you gasp at the loss.

“jeno—” you started to protest, but he was already grabbing you by the waist.

“quit whining,” he smirked, hoisting you up easily. you yelped, legs locking around his hips as he strode toward the stairs. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

your back hit the mattress a second later. you barely caught your breath before he tugged his pants down, the outline of his dick straining against his boxers.

jeno climbed onto the bed, gaze flicking over you with heat. you expected him to take you right then but he leaned back instead, hands behind his head.

“ride my face,” he said.

you froze, thinking he was joking for a second, but then you saw his his eyes and realized he was being completely serious. panic came over you, you’d never done this before, your boyfriend had never even eaten your out before, only fingered you. this was way more than that though.

“jeno—”

he raised a brow. “what, shy now?” his hands shot out, dragging you toward him. “c’mon, don’t start getting all sweet on me now.”

he positioned you right above his face. you swallowed, “jeno… i-i don’t know—“

“don’t worry baby, trust me”

and then he was spreading your legs further apart so you sank on his face slowly. his nose nuzzled between your folds first, the sharp line of it pushing against your core and making a guttural moan escape you.

his tongue followed, licking up and down, and prodding your entrance with insistence.

“oh, fuck—me” you whimpered, his hands on your hips guided you to press even harder against his face and even in your pleasure you worried he would drown in your cunt.

but when you looked down, there was nothing but pure bliss on his face, his eyes rolling back and his brows furrowed as he lapped relentlessly. it looked like he was enjoying this as much as you.

as your orgasm approached again, you couldn’t help but roll your hips against his face. the movement made his nose press further as his tongue continued licking long greedy strips against your clit.

“jeno—i...i’m—“ you moaned,

and your orgasm crashed over you with such a violent force it made you lean forward barely catching yourself with your arms before you could actually suffocate the boy under you.

you crawled down his body, your breath hitching as you took in the sight of his face glistening with your juices. his tongue swept out as he licked up every trace, dark eyes fixed on you.

his hands remained anchored on your hips, fingers flexing just enough to press you down against his body. you could feel him hard and burning through the thin fabric of his sweats. the instinctive grind of your hips had him exhaling a low chuckle. you wanted this, he wanted this, but something held you back. if you crossed this line… would you really be able to turn back?

you didn’t have time to find out because the sound of the doorbell ringing snapped you both out of your daze.

jeno blinked, looking toward the bedroom door. “seriously...?”

“shit—” you scrambled off him, tripping over your own limbs in the process.

“i’ll get it,” he offered, starting to sit up.

“no!” you shoved at his chest, pushing him back down. “your face, jeno— it’s covered in my—just—go wash it off!”

he grinned lazily. “didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago.”

“not the time!” you hissed, picking up your discarded clothes and putting them on.

jeno started, “i read somewhere that cum is really good for your skin—”

you didn’t dignify that with a response, slamming the door shut on your way out. your reflection in the living room mirror was a disaster: hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, fresh marks blooming along your neck. you tugged your collar up and plastered on what you hoped passed for a normal expression before opening the door.

and promptly felt the ground vanish under you when you saw who was standing outside.

“hey, beautiful” your boyfriend said.

your mouth went dry. “oh. wow. hi—”

he held up a bouquet. “i realized we didn’t really do anything special for valentine’s, and you were so thoughtful with your gifts…” his other hand revealed a small box.

your heart twisted at the sight.

“figured you deserved something nice after everything you’ve done for me.” he opened the box to reveal a delicate necklace, your initial glinting in tiny diamonds. “also, i wanna take you out today”

you swallowed. “it’s... beautiful, thanks.”

“here.” he stepped forward, gently brushing your hair aside to fasten it around your neck. his fingers grazed your skin then stopped.

“you’ve got a mark,” he said, frowning. his thumb skimmed over the hickey, sending your pulse into overdrive.

“mosquito bite,” you blurted.

he raised an eyebrow. “looks... aggressive.”

“it was a big mosquito,” you managed with a nervous laugh.

“massive, actually” came jeno’s voice.

you turned just as he was descending the stairs, towel-drying his face and now dressed in…god help you, only sweatpants. fresh hickeys also peppered his collarbone and chest.

your boyfriend’s smile tightened. “hi, man. hope i didn’t wake you.”

jeno shrugged. “nah, i was just eating a delicious meal.” his gaze flicked to you with something too close to amusement.

you fought the urge to kick him in the balls. “so! you said something about... going out?” you blurted, trying to shift the topic.

“uh... yeah. a new amusement park opened up nearby. thought we could check it out.”

“sounds amazing! i’m in!” anything to get out of this situation.

“i’ll just… shower real quick,” you said, stepping back.

“i’ll put the flowers in water,” your boyfriend offered, heading toward the kitchen.

as soon as he disappeared, you turned to jeno and hissed, “are you insane?”

he chuckled. “i didn’t even do anything.”

“you’re standing there shirtless covered in hickeys i don’t even remember giving you!” you whisper-yelled.

“yeah you went a little crazy, who knew you wanted me this bad?”

you shot him a glare. “this isn’t funny.”

“it’s a little funny.”

you let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing your face. “god, you’re impossible.”

jeno leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of him. “wouldn’t be nearly as fun if i wasn’t.”

you shook your head and darted upstairs, pulse still racing. what the hell was your life right now?

you gave yourself only twenty minutes to get ready, worried about leaving your boyfriend alone with jeno for too long. god only knew what kind of things jeno might say if left unchecked. you quickly threw on a pair of high-waisted jeans and a knitted sweater, keeping it simple with just a swipe of lip gloss and a touch of mascara.

when you came downstairs, you found them sitting at opposite ends of the couch. jeno was scrolling through his phone, legs spread out, a bored look on his face. your boyfriend was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, glancing around as if searching for a conversation topic that didn’t involve glaring across the room.

“i’m ready,” you announced, trying to break the awkward tension hanging in the air. both boys looked up.

you noticed Jeno had changed into fitted jeans and a black t-shirt.

“i hope you don’t mind,” your boyfriend said, his smile too stiff to be genuine, “but i invited jeno to come with us.”

“what?” your head snapped to jeno, who didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

“yeah,” jeno said, casually running a hand through his hair. “a few of my friends are heading there too, so i figured we could all hang out.”

“oh… how nice,” you muttered through clenched teeth. jeno just smirked, waiting for you to snap in front of your boyfriend but you held back, drawing in a calming breath and turning toward the door instead.

outside, your boyfriend wiped a tiny smudge off the driver’s side door of his car with meticulous care. jeno scoffed audibly.

your boyfriend paused, glancing over his shoulder. “jeno, do you have a car... or do you wanna ride with us?”

“my car’s in the shop,” Jeno replied without missing a beat.

“oh yeah? what do you drive?”

“a ’69 mustang fastback,” jeno said smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

your boyfriend’s lips parted slightly. you knew he was impressed—he loved cars—and even if he tried to play it cool, the way his eyes widened gave him away. “that’s a classic. was it your dad’s?”

“nope.” jeno grinned. “saved up since high school and bought it myself at the barrett-jackson auction last year.”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows shot up. “that’s... actually really impressive.”

yeah, jeno thought, satisfaction bubbling in his chest. he lived for moments like this, when people looked at him like he was something special. he just couldn’t let it slip that his dad had footed most of the bill for the car’s custom work. it wasn’t like he asked for that help, but there was no way he was turning it down either. and he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit that in front of your boyfriend. not when the guy was looking at him with something close to respect. honestly, jeno kind of liked having that edge over him.

you could practically see the mental competition unfolding in front of you. jeno stood there like he’d just scored a point, while your boyfriend’s jaw tightened, clearly thinking of how to reclaim the upper hand.

“are you guys done with the dick-measuring contest, or should i grab a ruler?” you asked, arms crossed.

jeno laughed under his breath. your boyfriend glanced away, muttering, “yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

the ride was somehow worse than you expected. normally, when you’d ride with your boyfriend, the car was filled with pleasant conversation. he’d ask about your day and tell you about his… but now, with jeno in the backseat, the air felt suffocating. not even the faint music playing on the radio could ease your discomfort.

“were you sleeping before i came?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you tensed. sleeping? far from it. you’d most definitely come before he arrived, and now your face burned with the memory. you shot a quick look over your shoulder at jeno, hoping to gauge if he was going to say something incriminating. he was scrolling through his phone, but the corner of his mouth curled up in that stupid smirk of his.

“uh… no,” you said, clearing your throat. “i couldn’t sleep very well last night, so i just had an early breakfast.”

“ah,” your boyfriend hummed. “and your parents are back sunday, right?”

“yeah,” you replied, grateful for the change in subject.

the silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. your boyfriend tapped the steering wheel rhythmically, occasionally glancing at you like he was expecting conversation but you were too busy trying not to spontaneously combust from how tense everything felt.

he reached over and turned on the car’s bluetooth. “let’s put on some music,” he muttered, scrolling through his playlist. he settled on a song, and you relaxed until you recognized the beat a split second before the lyrics started.

"thoughts of you keep me up at night..."

heat immediately started creeping up your neck. of all the songs... and of all the lyrics to play right now.

"i think about all of the ways you turn me on... and my bed gets lonely whenever you’re gone..."

you stiffened, eyes wide as you stared out the window. you could feel jeno’s gaze burning into the side of your face, and when you dared to glance back, you saw his eyes fixed on you, an eyebrow raised like this was the funniest thing to ever happen. your boyfriend, oblivious to the lyrical implications, simply tapped along to the beat.

you reached for the phone. “let’s put something else—”

“what? you don’t like this song?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you with a smile.

“it’s… just—” you floundered. jeno chuckled under his breath.

“leave it,” Jeno said. “I think it’s pretty relatable.”

your boyfriend shot him a look through the rearview mirror probably wondering what he meant.

you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the ground to swallow you whole. why did the drive feel like it was taking forever?

when you arrived at the amusement park, you were pleasantly surprised to see jenny and natty waiting near the entrance, drinks already in hand.

“we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing, by the way” jenny grinned, looping her arm through yours when you reached her.

“yeah,” Natty added, slipping in on your other side. “we told him he was an idiot for not doing something nice for you on saturday, so this is his redemption, and we’re here as the judges.”

the revelation should’ve surprised you—maybe even disappointed you—but it didn’t. things with your boyfriend had been...off lately. neither of you was really trying, and you couldn’t blame him for that when you weren’t putting in much effort yourself.

still, you plastered on a smile. this is supposed to be fun, you reminded yourself. and it was, you went on nearly every ride. your boyfriend, though, wasn’t a big fan of fast rides due to his motion sickness, and you didn’t miss the way jeno scoffed every time he turned down your suggestions to ride together.

you were heading toward the food stalls when something caught your eye. “ooh! let’s do that one!” you pointed to a shabby building draped in fake cobwebs and flickering lights. a crooked sign above the entrance read bloody encounter in dripping red letters.

jenny made a face. “why would you willingly do that to yourself?”

“come on,” you urged, tugging her arm. “it’ll be fun! i saw a video of it on instagram! it looks insane.”

“that’s exactly why i don’t want to go,” jenny shot back, glancing warily at the entrance.

natty, wide-eyed, whispered, “have you seen that movie where a group of friends goes into a haunted house, and there’s an actual killer inside?”

“that’s literally a movie,” you said, but your attempt at sounding confident fell flat when natty added, “it was based on real-life events.”

you rolled your eyes but glanced over your shoulder at your boyfriend trailing behind. he looked at the ride and grimaced.

“eh... i don’t know, babe,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “you know i hate this kind of stuff.”

you visibly deflated and before you could respond, another voice cut in. “i’ll go with you,” jeno said, stepping forward, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“I—” you started to object, nerves twisting in your stomach. jeno? alone? no way. that felt like walking into a trap. “weren’t you going to meet up with your friends?” you tried, hoping to backpedal.

“they texted that they got a flat on the way here, so it’ll be a while before they arrive” he shrugged.

“you two have fun,” jenny said, already pulling natty away. “we’ll grab food in the meantime.” natty threw you a look that screamed good luck before disappearing into the crowd.

your boyfriend lingered. “you sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked, eyes darting to jeno, whose expression remained unreadable except for the subtle roll of his eyes.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine. see you in a bit.”

stepping through the entrance, you were swallowed by darkness. the air was thick with the artificial scent of fog machines and that weird plasticky smell of cheap props. distorted laughter and screams echoed through the narrow halls, looping over speakers that crackled with static.

beside you, jeno looked about as thrilled as someone waiting in line at the dmv. he glanced around, gaze skimming lazily over the walls. "spooky," he deadpanned.

"wow, you're really committing to the whole fun-hater thing," you shot back, glancing over your shoulder. you knew something was about to jump out, it was just a matter of when. "if you hate this so much, why'd you come?"

“figured your dumbass boyfriend wouldn’t,” he shrugged, mouth quirking into something between a smirk and a sneer. "someone had to make sure you didn’t cry."

“excuse me—”

BANG!

a hidden panel to your left slammed open and a clown with cracked white paint on its face and red bulging eyes lunged out, blaring a horn right in your face. your soul practically left your body as you screamed and instinctively grabbed onto the nearest thing which, unfortunately, was jeno.

he didn’t even flinch, his arm simply went around your shoulders, comforting you even as your heart tried to beat out of your chest. you looked up, breath catching when you met his gaze. his eyes flicked down to where you were clutching his hoodie before lifting back to yours.

you pushed away, but his hand didn’t fall away immediately. it trailed from your shoulder down to the small of your back, you felt his warmth seep through the fabric of your sweater.

"so," he drawled, "should i hold your hand for the rest of this?"

“i swear to god…”

“—because i don’t mind”

“keep talking and i’ll feed you to the next clown,” you shot back.

he snorted. "like you’d make it through this without me."

you flipped him off without looking back, which earned a low chuckle in response. you stalked ahead, determined to focus on not tripping over the uneven floor, but his footsteps stayed close behind. annoyingly close.

the mirror maze was where things went downhill. everywhere you turned, warped reflections of you and jeno stretched and twisted in the glass. dark shapes flickered just out of sight, and the speakers just made everything worse by echoing whispers that felt like they were breathing down your neck.

your reflection twisted, making your head look three times too big. jeno snorted. “look, they got your good side.”

“bite me” you said, peering around a corner. your reflection multiplied into a dozen versions of you, all looking equally pissed.

“tempting,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

jeno’s fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you in the opposite direction.

“it’s this way,” he said.

“how would you know?”

“we’ve been stuck in here for like ten minutes,” he cut in. “you’re clearly not the best guide.”

you bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back.

jeno pointed at a door partially concealed by a tangle of fake cobwebs. “that’s gotta be the exit.”

“that looks deliberately hidden,” you said, eyeing it warily. something about it seemed off.

“well,” he shrugged, “either we try that or we keep wandering in circles. your call.”

fine. you followed him, trusting—against better judgment—that his instincts were better than yours.

they weren’t.

the door creaked open to reveal a forgotten section of the attraction with dust-covered boxes, broken props tossed in corners, and walls lined with peeling fake blood. the air smelled like damp cardboard and stale fog machine fluid.

“...okay,” he said, unfazed. “so not the exit.”

“wow. color me shocked.”

he shot you a look. “didn’t hear you coming up with better options.”

you rolled your eyes and turned back to the door. “whatever, let’s just—”

it didn’t budge. frowning, you tried again, putting more weight into it. nothing.

your pulse quickened. “uh... jeno?”

“what?”

“the door’s stuck.”

“just turn the handle—”

“i am!” frustration and panic crept into your voice. “i know how to open a damn door!”

“move.” he gently nudged you aside, grabbing the handle. he twisted while shoving his shoulder into it but the door held firm “...shit.”

your stomach dropped. this wasn’t funny anymore. “no, no, no… this can’t be happening.” you raked a hand through your hair.

jeno stepped back, scanning the room like there might be another way out. “it’s gotta be part of the attraction… like some escape room or…”

“yeah? you really think they’d make a whole escape room and hide it behind a side door that was clearly not supposed to be opened?” your voice cracked, breath coming quicker now.

he glanced at you, expression shifting. “hey.” his tone dropped, calmer. “don’t freak out.”

easy for him to say. your brain was already spiraling. you were locked in some creepy back room of a haunted house... with him.

you leaned back against the door, shutting your eyes as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“do you have your phone?” you asked, voice tight as you pushed away from the door and walked toward him.

he patted his back pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it up before showing the dead screen. “no battery.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing your temples. “of course.”

“the staff will probably notice we never came out,” he said, glancing around the dimly lit room. “they’ll be looking for us soon.”

“i didn’t even see anyone else besides that clown,” you muttered. “this is what i get for coming in here with you.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” his voice dropped a note lower, and when you looked up, he’d stepped closer. your back nearly hit the door again, tension sparking between you like static electricity.

“you’ve clearly upset some kind of energy around me, and that’s why all these things keep happening,” you snapped, trying to push away the sudden awareness of how little space there was between your bodies.

“are you being for real right now?” he chucked bitterly, dark eyes flicking to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. “you’ve been writing dirty fantasies about me for months but i’m the one somehow upsetting your energy?”

heat surged to your face, both from anger and embarrassment. “and that’s all they were! fantasies!” you shot back, voice rising. “i never wanted you to read those.” your breath came quicker. his proximity was messing with your ability to think straight.

“yeah?” he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. the playful glint in his eyes burned away, leaving something far more dangerous. “you say that like you didn’t mean every goddamn word.”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. "is now really the time for this?"

“how come my presence didn't bother you when my mouth was between your legs?” he growled.

your hand shot up, ready to shove him away but he caught your wrist, pinning it above your head. your heart kicked into overdrive.

“not here,” you breathed, but it was weak, barely convincing.

“nobody’s around,” he rasped, chest flush against yours. “and you don’t really want me to stop.”

his lips dragged along your neck greedily, teeth scraping your skin before his tongue soothed the sting. your knees nearly gave out.

“jeno—fuck—we can’t,” you gasped, even as your hips arched toward him, desperate for friction.

“i’m sure i can make you cum before anyone shows up,” he promised, voice like rough velvet.

then he grabbed your thigh, hauling your leg around his waist and shoving his hips against you. the contact had you gasping, heat blooming everywhere at once. his grip was bruising, grounding you and shattering you all at once.

“you have no idea—” his breath was ragged, words spoken between gritted teeth, “—how fucking hard it was to sit back and watch you with him. i wanted to drag you away and remind you exactly whose tongue had you shaking mere hours ago.”

that snapped something inside you. your fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him in as his mouth crashed against yours. his hips rolled, grinding against you in rough motions that stole every coherent thought from your brain.

you should stop. you should care about where you were or the fact that your boyfriend was waiting for you outside, but the way he was touching you, kissing you, claiming you.

he pressed you hard against the wall, hands pulling at your sweater with urgency. the second it was off, his mouth was on you, sucking against the lace of your bra. his groan was barely controlled.

“fuck, so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words shaky. his gaze was hungry as he tore your bra off, his lips tracing the curve of your chest.

his mouth found your nipple, sucking hard. your back arched and a gasp slipped from you.

“god, perfect tits,” he growled. his hands were shaking now, and there was no control in his voice, just raw need.

without warning, he pulled your pants off, almost knocking you off balance. you barely steadied yourself before he turned you around, shoving you forward. Your hands gripped the wall for support, and you felt him push his erection against your ass.

“fuck, gonna make you feel so good. better than your fingers ever could. let me fill you up” he groaned, his voice desperate. you could feel how hard he was even through his jeans.

you bit your lip, refusing to let him have the satisfaction of knowing just how much you wanted him. before you could look back, his hand was on your jaw, turning your head to face forward.

“be good and i’ll let you look,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

he pulled your panties aside, the fabric stretching tight against you. it felt like it might snap any second, but before the thought could even settle, his finger was buried in your folds. the cool touch of his rings against your heat made you gasp, your body shuddering in response.

“oh god,” you mewled.

if your mind was clear enough to process anything, you’d laugh at how absurd this was. your fantasies, the ones you’d written about in your blog, were unfolding before your eyes, all within a day.

“barely even touched you, and you’re already dripping like this?” his voice was laced with amusement, though there was a growl beneath it.

“jeno, please don’t… tease me.” the words barely left your mouth, a plea you couldn’t hold back.

he smirked, his thumb brushing over your sensitive spot as he circled your clit. “i thought you were the one who didn’t want to do this here,” he taunted.

“please,” you whispered, barely able to form a coherent thought.

he chuckled, drawing another slow circle, teasing you, making you ache. every motion of his finger made your body respond, pushing your hips back instinctively. “so eager,” he muttered, his mouth hot against your shoulder.

his finger plunged inside you, and before you could adjust, another joined. he pulled them out slowly, spreading the slickness of your folds across your skin, making you squirm in desperation. you felt the pressure of his cock growing against your ass, and you clenched around his fingers, your walls yearning for more.

“ready for me, baby?” his voice was low, dark, almost a growl, and you nodded, mind too fogged to say anything.

he spread your legs wider, forcing you open for him, giving him better access. you felt the tip of his cock swipe against your folds, teasing the entrance, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance down. his pre-cum smeared against you, mixing with your slickness.

“when i’m done with you, you won’t even remember who came before me…” his words were gruff, hot against your hair.

and then, just like that, he thrust inside. you heard him inhale sharply as your gummy walls welcomed him, stretching around him, pulling him deeper. he felt thick, too thick, and you weren’t sure if he was all the way in, but the fullness was overwhelming. his body pushed against yours, your legs trembling under the weight of him, but he wasn’t stopping.

one hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as jeno continued to push deeper. your moans grew louder, and with each thrust your inhibition was slipping away. it felt too good to care about being caught, to think about anything else but the feeling of being so full.

but then, just as you were losing yourself completely, the sound of footsteps and distant voices jerked you back to reality.

“guys, they probably already came out,” you recognized jenny’s voice, and you froze.

“y/n isn’t picking up her phone,” your boyfriend’s voice followed, too close, so close you could practically feel him in the room.

you pushed weakly against jeno, trying to make him pull out, but he wasn’t paying attention. instead, he thrust into you again, harder, his cock pressing into you so deeply that you bit your tongue to hold back the moan threatening to slip out.

“that’s cause i have it,” natty’s voice rang out, innocently. “she gave it to me when she went on the roller coaster earlier.”

jeno’s hand moved to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds you couldn’t stop from escaping. he continued to pound into you, relentless, while pulling you flush against his chest, his pace steady but punishing. panic clawed at your throat as your breath quickened.

“when were you gonna tell us that...?” jenny’s voice sounded sharp, you could even picture the scowl that came with it.

“did you try jeno?” your boyfriend asked, the concern in his tone making the situation even more unbearable.

“we don’t have his phone number,” natty replied casually.

“i do,” Jenny said, her voice almost sheepish.

jeno’s hips stuttered for a brief moment, the pace slowing as he briefly pulled away from you. you thought he was stopping but before you could even react, he spun you around, forcing you to face him. his forehead glistened with sweat, his lips swollen from how hard he’d bitten them, his breath labored.

“what? since when?” natty asked, her voice sounding confused but amused.

“i stole it from y/n’s phone,” jenny muttered quickly. “don’t tell her, though.”

before you could even process her words, jeno thrust back into you, pressing you into the wall with each brutal stroke. the wall rattled violently with every movement and you could barely form the words to warn him.

“j-jeno, stop… they… they’re gonna hear us,” you gasped. your whole body felt like it was being torn apart in the best way, but the fear of being caught made it impossible to enjoy it fully.

“let them,” he growled against your ear, his grip tightening on your waist. “let your boyfriend know i’m the only one who can make you cum.”

you couldn’t help the loud whimper that came out when he said that.

“did you guys hear that?” your boyfriend’s voice rang out, sharp with suspicion.

your eyes widened in sheer panic, your body stiffening around jeno. but instead of stopping, he only smirked, still buried deep inside you. the bastard was enjoying this.

his hand trailed down, fingers finding your clit, and the second he started rubbing tight circles, your head lolled back involuntarily. another strangled whimper escaped before you could stop it. the feeling of his fingers working you over while he continued driving into you relentlessly had you seeing white.

“what?” natty asked, her voice tinged with unease.

jeno didn’t stop, his movements staying controlled except for the way his breath hitched when your walls fluttered around him. his lips parted slightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he fought to keep from moaning out loud.

“it sounded like… a person?” your boyfriend said, his voice closer now.

your head snapped up in terror, eyes locking onto jeno’s, silently pleading with him to stop. but he wasn’t even looking at you. his teeth were digging into his lower lip, dark eyes fixed on where your bodies were joined, watching the way he disappeared inside you over and over again.

“it’s probably just the scary audio replaying on the speakers,” Jenny suggested.

“and that rattling sound?”

jeno’s eyes flicked up at that, finally registering your panic. without pulling out, he wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you off the wall effortlessly, carrying you a few paces away before pressing you down onto an old, dusty table.

before you could even think to protest, he shoved your knees up and entered you again, deeper this time, making you arch off the surface with a muffled cry. your teeth sank into the flesh of your hand to keep the noises in.

the table creaked with each sharp thrust, dust kicking up into the air around you. tears pricked your eyes, whether from pleasure, mortification, or both, you weren’t sure.

“maybe rats or something,” jenny suggested, her voice fading as she moved further away. “who cares? let’s just go. they’re not here anymore.”

the moment the voices started retreating, jeno leaned over you.

“we almost got caught,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe “...and you’re still fucking dripping around me.”

you didn't even get to feel embarrassed by his words because soon he was already moving again harder, deeper, like he needed to make up for the interruption. the table kept creaking under the force of his thrusts, and your fingers scrambled for something to hold onto.

when you looked down, your breath hitched at the sight of his cock drilling into you over and over, slick coating both of you in a wet mess. you were mesmerized by the sharpness of his hip bones, the way his veins bulged with every flex of his muscles.

you wanted to touch. you needed to.

your fingers twitched with the urge. why is he still so covered? you’d seen him shirtless before, had spent far too long secretly admiring the cut of his abs, but seeing and feeling were entirely different. you wanted to feel them ripple under your hands, to feel the heat of his skin against your palms.

driven by that need, you pushed up on your elbows, reaching for the hem of his shirt. he didn’t stop you, just watched with dark eyes and parted lips as you dragged the fabric up, exposing smooth skin and the taut muscles beneath. your fingers splayed over his stomach, feeling how hard he was clenching, how his body responded to you.

jeno tensed the moment your hands made contact with his skin, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth. his hips faltered for a second before slamming back into you with even more force. your breath stuttered, and when you looked up, his eyes were already locked onto yours, pupils blown wide with something wild.

suddenly, he leaned forward and his lips crashed into yours, all-consuming. a deep grunt rumbled from his chest as he licked into your mouth, greedy and desperate, sucking at your tongue like he couldn’t get enough of your taste. you gasped, clutching at his shoulders, your fingers digging into the sweaty skin under his shirt.

he groaned against your lips, voice ragged. “you—” another thrust, deeper this time, knocking the air from your lungs. “—are driving me fucking crazy.”

you felt your orgasm building fast, your breath catching as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach. words tumbled out of your mouth, barely coherent, dissolving into soft gasps as your body clenched around him. jeno moaned against your lips, his hand sliding back to your chest, fingers toying with your nipple. his hips didn’t slow, driving into you with almost manic thrusts that had your head spinning.

“fuck, i’m close,” he breathed out, voice rough in your ear. “where do you want it?”

you blinked through the pleasure, brain too sluggish to register the question. when it did, warmth flooded your cheeks. you were on the pill and the thought of him stuffing you up with his cum, just like you’d written about, made your walls flutter instinctively. “inside,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

jeno’s jaw flexed, his gaze darkening. “yeah?” his pace quickened, rougher now, his lips brushing against your neck. “couldn’t wait for me to fill you up, hm?” his words melted into a groan when you clenched around him.

“jeno—i—” the rest of the sentence dissolved into a cry as your orgasm crashed over you violently. your body arched into him, trembling.

he wasn’t far behind. you felt his rhythm stutter before warmth flooded you, his hips pressing deep as he let out a low, drawn-out moan. his lips found yours again, kissing you slowly, even as both of you tried to catch your breath.

when he finally pulled back, his gaze held yours for a while. you wanted to ask what he was thinking, but the words stuck in your throat.

you felt him slip out of you along with the slow drip of hia cum trailing down your thighs. he reached for your discarded underwear, swiping it between your legs with surprising gentleness before, without hesitation, tucking it into his back pocket.

“hey—” you started to protest, but the look he shot you shut you up fast. apparently, those were his now.

a few quiet minutes passed, both of you fixing your clothes, when the door groaned open. you flinched as an older staff member peeked in, eyes widening upon spotting you two.

“what on earth are you two doing in here?”

you quickly stepped forward, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “so sorry, sir! we got lost trying to find the exit, and then the door jammed. thank you for helping us”

“yeah. where’s the way out?” jeno added, right behind you.

“just head left twice. you’ll see the exit sign.” the man shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he waved you off.

“thanks again!” you called, already pulling jeno with you. once outside, the cool night air hit your flushed skin, and you wrapped your arms around yourself with a shiver.

“if we’d followed my directions,” you said, glancing sideways at him, “we would’ve been out a while ago.”

jeno’s jacket appeared over your shoulders before you could argue further. “yeah,” he smirked, eyes glinting under the neon lights. “but then we wouldn’t’ve had all that fun, would we?”

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nicksolemnlyswears · 1 year ago

Text

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader

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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 1 year ago

Text

When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself| Maknaeline Pt1

Warnings: Cursing, Mentioning of Blood

Pt2 Pt3 Hyungline (xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

JISUNG|

There was nothing you loved more than Jisung's singing. Well maybe Jisung himself.

But from the moment you heard him sing you knew that it was game over for you. You didn't know what you had done to have God bless you with the off chance of running into the chubby cheeked boy on the street during a last-minute girls' trip - the result of a horrible breakup.

And you sure as hell didn't know what you did to have him become smitten with you at first glance, softly asking for your number - even though it was obvious you weren't going to stay long.

But after a week of non-stop texting and meme exchanging it was obvious the feeling was mutual so long distance was something you were willing to try.

And it was the best decision you had ever made. Two and a half years strong.

The last year you had spent in South Korea had been filled with wonderful memories too, and you quickly found yourself getting used to living life with Hanji.

"Sungie!" You burst into the studio and Jisung jumped in fear. "I brought you something!"

He turned around with wide eyes and his mouth opened slightly. "What is it?"

You handed him a couple of his favorite snacks and an energy drink. "I figured you were tired since the guys told me you didn't come back to the dorms..." You wrapped your arms around him and peeked over his shoulder at to what he was scribbling in his favorite, beat up notebook. "What are you writ-"

Jisung quickly closed his notebook. "N-nothing."

"Lemme see!" You giggle reaching for it again. He quickly pulled away. "Jiji you always show me your songs!" You said, not noticing his growing irritation.

"Y/N stop I don't want you to see this one." He said grabbing his notebook.

"Why not?" You whined, trying one last time to grab it. "Thats are thing you show me your songs even before you show the guys!"

Your hands folded around the broken metal spine and part of the papers themselves and Jisung pulled away with an extreme amount of force.

The small part of metal that had no home in the small holes of the spiral bound book hooked its way into your hand. And with Han's forceful pull, ripped open your skin as well in a thing but deep wound.

You hissed in pain slightly from a small paper cut on your middle finger, which was ironic considering the much deeper gash in the palm of your dominant hand.

"Dammit Y/N!" He snapped looking at his ripped pages.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." You said quietly.

"Well you did!" He mumbled turning his back on you looking for tape on Chan's cluttered desk.

"I'm sorry."

"Its whatever." Han mumbled, his back still turned to you.

You hold your wrist, you hand bloodied. "Jiji-"

"Y/N I want to be alone right now." His voice was firm, and you could tell he was trying to hide his growing anger. You wanted to respect his wishes but your injury seemed to throb even more by the second, even more blood spilling out.

You nodded but opened your mouth to speak again trying to ask him for help with your gushing hand. "I know but-"

"FUCK Y/N!" Jisung screamed slamming his hands on the table. "Just leave me alone! Stop being clingy for two seconds and give a moment to breathe! You just ruined something extremely important just because you don't know when to stop messing around."

You bit your cheek, trying to stop the tears that were pricking your eyes from falling.

You knew that Jisung was only calling you clingy to to get you to go away. To hurt you enough so you'd want to leave. He had done it before.

And even though it was a bad habit, it was proving really hard for him to break.

You quickly made your way out after watching your boyfriend for a few more seconds as he started tearing small pieces of tape from the dispenser.

And even still you couldn't help but have your heart flutter at his concentration as he bent down to carefully place pieces of tape on the ripped pages.

Dammit. Why do I always have to go and ruin things... You think to yourself as you head out to your car. Grabbing an extreme amount of paper towels to soak up the red liquid streaming from your hand.

You go to wipe your tears, but only smearing blood on your face causing even more tears of frustration, sadness and disappointment to fall from your eyes.

Fuck. I'm gonna need stitches.

You drove to the hospital, continously blinking to keep your vision clear through your emotional state. You were so focused on the road and replaying the whole situation that had just occurred in your head you didn't realize your phone was ringing.

Once you computed the ringning you frantically reached for your phone, so you could talk to Jisung - apologize, just talk things through - not remembering the state your hand was in and feeling it rip open even more, causing your phone to slip and a strangled cry of pain escape your lips.

Incoming call from - Jiji *heart emoji. angel emoji. squirrel emoji.*

Your phone had fallen in between the crack of your seat and you tried grabbing it while keeping your eyes on the road.

Incoming call from - Jiji *heart emoji. angel emoji. squirrel emoji.*

"Holy shit can't I-"

You heard the blaring of a horn and by instinct you turned opposite of the direction you heard it coming from, only to have the noise covered by metal crunching on metal.

Missed Call from - Jiji *heart emoji. angel emoji. squirrel emoji.*

Beeeep.

You have one new voicemail.

"Jagiya - I saw blood on my paper. Were you bleeding? Look, I know you probably don't feel like talking to me and that's valid. I say a lot of mean things to get space- and I know how wrong that is of me. Just...call me back okay? Let me know you're okay...there was...a lot...of blood. A lot...I'm worried. You can be mad but please just let me know, okay? I feel bad. I had a reason for hiding the lyrics; but it just seems stupid now. Because you got hurt because of me...I know I'm ranting but I'm worried sick. So please just...text or something. At least tell me you have the cut bandaged or something. Because baby if I would have realized sooner you were bleeding that much...God I feel like an idiot. Just call me, okay? Or you know what text if you don't feel like talking...just let me know your safe...the guys are worried too...you left a trail...God I feel so bad. Maybe I'm exaggerating but it looked like so much...I love you. Okay? I love you."

Click.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

FELIX|

You heard your front door unlock and looked behind you to see Felix walking in.

He slipped his shoes off and immediately headed towards the game room you had set up from an old study when you and him had frist started dating.

Your desk was still in the corner, but you had set up all of Felix's extra gaming things throughout the rest of the room. Stringing up LED lights and making it as aesthetically pleasing as possible since had taken a liking to filming some of his lives in that room once your relationship had gone public.

You got up from the couch and followed Felix into the room. He didn't seem like his usual cheery self. And his determined steps into the game room differed from his usually excited steps and leaned more towards annoyance.

"Lix is everything okay?" You asked, coming to stand by him. You placing the energy drink you were sipping on by him as you reach out to give him an embrace.

"I'm fine Y/N." He mumbled, trying to shake his PC awake. Then trying to turn on the LED's and lamp next to him. When they didn't turn on he tried plugging his phone in to the extra charger that he always kept plugged in at your home, groaning when that too didn't work.

"You seem upset love, you know I'm here for you."

"I said I'm fine." He snapped as he got up and started looking at the different wires connecting the lights and other various things in the room. "This damned thing."

You got up and looked at the wires yourself. "Let me see-"

"I got it, Y/N." Felix said sternly as he moved his makeshift desk back carefully from the wall enough to squeeze back there and look at the outlets.

At the same time you notice the extension cord didn't look like it was fully plugged in. You let out a small noise of acknowledgement and crawled under table to plug it in.

It was too bad Felix didn't notice your other hand resting on the ground for balance, as he stepped on it while trying to get a better look.

You yelped in pure shock, your head coming up to bang against the underside of the table- and Felix jumping back in surprise - and reaching out to balance himself but instead knocking over your drink onto his extremely expensive keyboard.

You had never heard so many profanities string from his mouth at once.

"I'll go get towels-"

"Are you fucking slow Y/N?!" His voice was harsh. Nothing like the gentle tone he always used with you. "Maybe you are. Would explain why you'd think a fucking corrosive drink could be easily cleaned from a keyboard. GOD." He groaned slamming his fist down.

"Felix I didn't-"

"I didn't know! I didn't know!" Felix mocked. "Well no shit you didn't know. Who in their right mind puts an open drink next to a set up that probably costs more than your monthly wages."

You felt your chin start to tremble and you tried to take a breath.

"You know maybe if you weren't clinging to me 24/7 this wouldn't have happened. Now thanks to you I have to find replacements." He grumbled pushing past you.

You turned to follow him like a lost puppy.

"Dammit did you not get the hint?!" He shouted turning back towards you. "You really are slow holy shit." He spat out.

You watched him make his way towards the door grabbing his keys and just walking out in his house slippers that's how angry you had made him.

"I can fix it..." You whimpered, trying to wipe your tears as you collected an arrangement of towels both dry and cloth. "I-I can f-fix itttt..." You whine as you hold the towels with shaky hands trying to mop up the mess.

"I-I'll fix-fix it-" You keep repeating to yourself until your vision is so blurred by tears the they flow over into the crevices of his precious keyboard. You try to soak up the mousepad he had customized, and the fabric of his chair.

"I'll...fix it..."

Soon enough those three words didn't sound like words you had said them so much.

Your hands were red and raw from scrubbing down the table so much. And you could barely even breath through your desperate cries.

His words kept ringing in your head.

He sounded so angry. You had never seen him like that. And it scared you. It scared you so much.

So much it had you considering if his accessories were the only thing he'd ever consider replacing.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

SEUNGMIN|

You sat in the dressing room, waiting for Seungmin to come back stage.

Tonight was the kickoff concert for their mini tour. Just ten destinations. A mix of normal venues, mini music festivals and things of such.

Ever since you and Seungmin had become a thing a little over three years ago, you had made it your mission to attend all of his concerts. While at first you flew under the radar of attendance- you soon became the "Where's Waldo" of sort when your relationship became public- stays doing everything they could to spot you in the crowd.

Tonight was no different other than the fact that everything went abswolutely horrible.

Malfunction after malfunction. Although most of the Stays were too preoccupied with the the visuals and the improv to really care about the mistakes on the crew end of thing.

And you had come backstage to tell Seungmin the same thing that all the Stays in the crowd had been thinking.

You did great.

Most of the time on Seungmin's shorter trips you stayed out of his way. Calling him and just infroming him of the different places you were visting in the cities, and asking if he would like any specific souvenirs. Thats the way you balanced out most. Thats the way things had worked and you figured they would continue to work...

Until Seungmin came in,.

"What are you doing here?" He asked throwing his jacket on the closest chair, and immediately going to strip off his shirt.

"I just wanted to come in and see how you were doing." You said quietly- gently.

"Appreciate it but you're not exactly helping my situation. I come into the dressing room for a breather - some space but your in here." He sighs grabbing a towel and trying to soak up his sweat.

You frown and look at him, his puppy eyes clouded with frustration.

"I just wanted to tell you that you did good...none of that was your fault. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of that..."

"Y/N. You're getting overwhelming. Seeing you home, at the studio in the audience- I can't catch a fucking break. Its like you're acting as my fucking shadow- clinging on to me wherever I go. Normal couples don't do that." He said as he stepped behind a portable stall to change completley.

You opened your mouth but closed it quickly, not wanting to start something you knew Seungmin was more than likely to finish.

"Like everytime I see you it's such a burden really..." Seungmin came out drying his sweaty hair with a smaller towel. "Like don't you ever get sick of seeing me all the time?" He gives out a smile and a laugh, but his eyes don't crinkle the same way they usually do.

You bite your cheek. "No...why would I get sick of seeing you? Why...would I ever see you as a burden?"

Your boyfriend looks at you in the reflection of the mirror, and turns to see the pain in your eyes.

"I came back here to comfort you Min...but instead you want to find ways to tear me down? So effortlessly at that?" Your voice is growing in pitch by the second but getting quieter and quiter. "I've spent three years supporting you in everything that you do. I've spent money to surprise you on trips Seungmin! When you know I don't have the money to do that!" Seungmin flinches when you use his full name. It had been so long since he heard anything other than a nickname fall from your lips when talking to him. "I always put you before me...am I really that much of a burden to you Seungmin?"

The quiet boy just looked at you.

"Dammit say something!" You exclaimed.

"I...don't know what you want me to say Y/N...I appreciate you coming to my concerts. I do...but don't you have another life outside of me?"

You clenched your jaw. "You're geniunely asking me that? When we've spent over three years together?"

Seungmin sighed. "You know I don't mean it like that..."

"Then how do you mean it?"

He fidgeted and opened his mouth to say something but bit his tongue and thought for a second more.

"You know what...maybe you're right Seungmin." You grab your purse and coat.

"Where are you going?" He asked, a bit of panic creeping into his voice.

"Away." You mumbled. "You're right Seungmin. I don't have a life outside of you. And maybe that's why this doesn't feel so right anymore."

You reach for the door and you feel both his hands wrap around your arm.

"B-Baby...y...you don't mean that...you don't." He pleaded softly. You watched as his brown eyes searched your face for any bluff. "We're right...we feel right-we we fit right..." His voice took a little pitiful whine to it and you felt as if you just kicked a puppy.

Right now he looked like a kicked puppy.

You had to turn your face away so he couldn't see your walls built in anger break.

Because no matter how petty you could be you wouldn't do that to Seungmin.

Would you?

"Seungmin...you think you can just go and say those things...the things that effortlessly hurt me?" You took a deep breath. "It's like you put no thought into how you crack my heart."

Not break. He couldn't break it...

"Jagiya...please...please stay?"

Couldn't my ass. He damn well could. And two could play that game.

"I'm leaving." You said pulling your arm from him roughly, knowing that you ripping yourself from the embrace you relied on so much would hurt him the most.

"You don't mean it...we're both frustrated...Jagiya..."

You decided not to look back as you walked out the door.

Knowing just how quickly your resolve you fold if you saw just how easily Seungmin's heartbreak was painted on to him.

You knew you'd fold the second you saw how his heartbreak mirrored your own.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

JEONGIN|

Please leave a message after the tone.

You groan as you guide yourself to the counter, holding onto it trying to find unwavering land in the battle of dizziness you were fighting.

Please leave a message after the tone.

"Pick up..." You groan as you try to hit the call button for Jeongin, your vision was clouded and you mistakenly pressed your second most recent call.

"Y/N? What's up?"

"Ji...Jisung...grab Jeongin for me?"

"Y/N...he's a little...irked right now. We were poking fun at him when you called but I think we went a bit too far... I don't think its the best idea..."

"Jisung, please?"

You heard Jisung shuffle around, and you heard the crunching of leaves as he made his way towards the sound of loud laughter.

"Innie! Your girlfriend is one the phone!"

You think you're hearing things when you hear Jeongin's distinct groan- but you don't have time to think about it before you hear all of his elder group members "ooh" and "ahh" at the youngest member.

"What is it?" The annoyance in his voice is evident.

"Innie...I don't feel good." You say steadying yourself on the counter. Your hands are slick with sweat, just like the rest of your body.

"Y/N I don't know what you want me to do about that." He says, covering the mic to yell something at the members- who are making kissing noises and mimicking romantic music in the background. "I'm hours away and I'm not gonna be back until Monday."

You whimper as you lower yourself onto the ground, your head swimming with dizziness - all while feeling as if someone tigthened a rubber band around your noggin.

"Stop being so dramatic and take medicine if its that bad." He finally says. "It's embarassing to have you blow up my phone while I'm on a guys trip - and even more embarassing for you to blow up my friends phones as well."

Something about the way he says my makes your heart sting slightly. As if you hadn't cultivated friendships with the guys as well.

"Maybe if you had answere-"

"Just stop Y/N! I'm not a baby! And having you cling to me...its making the guys think that. I mean don't you see how annoying that looks? Childish? Being clingy is downright childish."

You can't really focus on Jeongin's angry rant because you vision is getting blurry, and your head is throbbing so horribly, and your body is getting so clammy you can't focus on anything other than how shitty you feel.

"I think I'm gonna pass out-"

You hear Jeongin's exasperated huff. "You always have to make it about you don't you?! I'm trying to tell you how I want you sto stop blowing up my phone so damn much while I'm with the guys and you're here being dramtic. We're adults Y/N. We don't have to rely on each other for everything! So just lay down if your feeling that bad. I don;t cal you for everything."

You groan into the phone. "Jeongin-"

"Holy shit Y/N, can't you take a hint? For fuck's sake...I'll talk to you Monday." He said before hanging up, his tone exuding the aura of a typical "too-cool-for-anyone" teen boy or more specifically a hormonal attitude filled PMS monster.

You take a second to breathe, the nausea that was hitting you in waves only coming in faster and stronger.

You scrolled through your contacts and just clicked on one. Your fingers were trembling and you could barely press the speaker button before dropping your phone to the ground in a moment of weakness.

I'm gonna pass out...just...a minute longer...wait until someone answers...

You decided to not delay the inevitable and just lay on the cool ground that you'd end up on anyway. Might as well save yourself from an uneccassary bump.

"Hello?"

"I think I'm gonna faint..." You groan.

"The fuck? Y/N? What? I'm on my way I'm at the studio I'll be there in a minute..."

You give a small hmm and lean more into the floor if that was possible.

It brought you back to when you were a child, and would decide to randomly nap on the ground.

Maybe I am childish...

Maybe he was right...

You're mine clears as your mind goes static then black as if a switch turned on.

"Y/N? Y/N!"

When you open your eyes your blinded by lights and instantly annoyed by the beeping of mulitple machines.

"Y/N-ie!" You see the smiling faces of Chaeryeong and Yeji. Then Ryujin, Lia and Yuna's faces pop around you too.

"The doctor said your blood sugar was extremley low." Yeji said grabbing your hands. "He said that they're gonna run a few more tests on you too see what the cause of it was."

"We were worried sick when you called Chaer so we all came!" Lia exclaims.

You smiled gratefully, your head still throbbing slightly.

"Thank you." You said quietly.

"I called Changbin." Chaeryeong commented. "I thought it was best that one of the Kids relay the message to your boyfriend."

You pop up in bed, the sudden movement dizzying you. "What? What did you say?"

"I just told him we found you past out in your kitchen. At that point we didn't know what caused it...so all I said is we were bringing you to the hospital."

"Your boyfriend has been calling your phone for the last hour and a half." Yuna says nodding towards your phone.

26 missed calls.

"Hah...so he calls me clingy and childish then proceeds to call my phone 26 times?" You groan as you throw yourself back onto the hospital bed.

The ITZY girls look at you with sympathetic looks, Yeji squeezing your hands gently as well.

"Fuck it." You mumble, a fit of anger bubbling inside you as you swiped away all the call notifications, an insurge of pettiness filling you. "Clingy and childish my ass. I'll show him what that actually looks like."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang

#skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz stay #skz angst #yang jeongin #stray kids #lee felix #han jisung #kim seungmin

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20cubesun · 2 months ago

Text

winning a fancall as their partner ᵔᴗᵔ

pairing - ot7 x gn!reader

genre - fluff

warnings - minor language (very minor) !

Jungwon

doesn't realize at first

does his rehearsed greeting, then is like, "??????"

"Y/n??"

lets out a sigh of relief and has a big smile

"You won't believe the fan call I just had... Some people.."

Jungwon vents his frustrations with people making him aegyo and meow

"Hey Wonnie?"

"Yes, Y/n?"

"Can you meow for me?"

Jungwon sits in silence for the rest of the call, arms crossed, and giving you a blank look.

When he sees you after, he continues to give the silent treatment until you offer to scratch his back

"Y/n, please don't ever do that again.."

Heeseung

ALSO doesn't realize right away

you both just kinda sit there like "😐"

then Heeseung goes "😮"

"Y/n! I didn't know you won a fan call! Why didn't you tell me?"

pretends to sulk, but is refreshed seeing you between all the other calls

"Don't be mad, I just wanted to surprise you!" You watch Heeseung start to laugh a little

"Well it worked! I love seeing all of ENGENE, but this is refreshing.. And this chair is really uncomfortable.."

"Well it's not like I'm a random ENGENE, stretch your legs while you can, Hee."

Immediately gets up and starts to stretch.

"See, this is why I love you so much Y/n."

You laugh as you see only his legs in view

He sits back down with a grin

"I'll see you later Y/n, thanks for letting me take a little break."

Jay

realizes its you and plans to tease you

"Oh my god." Jay says with a slight smile

"Surprise!" You let out little jazz hands

Pretends to not care, but secretly has butterflies

"Yeah yeah, whatever... How do I skip you?" Jay pretends to signal staff over

"Hey! Don't you dare! I won this fair and square!"

Jay laughs and blows into the mic

"Hey I thi- pshhhhhhhh this call is- psshhhhhhhh breaking up"

"You're so annoying, Jay. Im an ENGENE too you know, where's my dedicated three minutes?"

Jay laughs and settles in his chair, "Fine, I guess you're right, what do you want to talk about?"

"Actually I'm glad you asked, do you remember where I put my-"

"Hate to cut you off sweetheart, but times up." Jay laughs and sends an air kiss.

"That.. Brat!" You scowl, but end up only being able to laugh about it.

You jokingly complain about it when Jay sees you later that night

"Y/n, how about I go get you some snacks? Will that make you feel better?"

You nod, because how can that not help?

Jake

Immediately perks up. "Y/n?!"

You play dumb.. "Uh.. No that's not my name."

Jake looks confused for a second before doubling down. "Y/n, I know it's you. I literally see your posters in the back."

"Crap.." You mutter under your breath, letting out a nervous smile.

"Y/n, I didn't know you won a fan call? Were you trying to prank me? Next time I'll pretend to fall for it!"

Your heart swells, Jakes just too cute.

"Aaaghh, you make it really hard to stay in character you know. I had a whole plan set up."

Jake laughs, "Here, let's pretend like I did fall for it. Go on, do your prank."

You nod and show Jake a crude, not very well drawn photo of him. "I made this for you, cause you're my bias, Jake oppa!" You did a cringey aegyo after

"Never mind, please never do that again Y/n."

you head over to Jakes dorm, having a better prank in mind

You wait on his bed and run into his closet when you hear the boys get home.

"What the hell is this? Y/n?"

You pop out of the closet, seeing Jake staring at the fake body you made with pillows, only for the face to be your drawing

"PRANKED!!"

Sunghoon

pretends like he doesn't realize

"Hel- Oh wow. Usually I'm not supposed to say this, but you're the most attractive person I've ever seen.."

You do a mental facepalm

"Sunghoon, it's me, Y/n."

"Y/n? That's a beautiful name.. Here, let me write down my number and text me after this."

Sunghoon scribbles down his number and puts it up to the camera

"Stop playing dumb, hoonie! I was supposed to surprise you!"

"Ahh, playing hard to get? That's okay Y/n, I'm more than happy to fight for it."

"Hoon, why don't you ever flirt with me like this when we're together?"

"If I knew you, I definitely would Y/n."

Wait for him to finish his fancalls, then call him

"Oh hey babe, I saw the most beautiful ENGENE during the fan calls today..."

"Sunghoon, I swear to god I'm gonna kill you."

Sunoo

Immediately decomposes himself and lays on the table

"Y/n... its brutal out here..."

You let out a little chuckle, "What happened this time, Sun?"

Sunoo peeks up. "I have to pee, it's too hot in this room, my hair isn't cooperating, and we still have a bunch of fan calls left to do... I don't know if I can make it."

"Do it for ENGENE Sun, lots of them are looking forward to this.

Sunoo sits back up and nods.

"You're right Y/n, and they're all so nice! One of them showed me this picture they drew.. It looked exactly like me, just more handsome!"

You smile, letting Sunoo talk about all the ENGENE he met today.

"You feel better, Sun?"

"Yes, just what I needed."

A hour later Sunoo sends you a text.

"Thanks for the pick me up Y/n! I picked up some ice cream and I'm on my way over : )"

Ni-Ki

Notices its you before you even realize the call connected

Ni-Ki lets out a fake sigh. "Oh great.. It's you."

You cross your arms, used to Ni-Ki's teasing by now. "And what is that supposed to mean, Riki?"

He grins and sits back. "All I'm saying is you already take up my free time, you should share some with ENGENE."

You scoff and act hurt. "I'll have you know I won this spot buying albums. Actually- buying ENGENE versions trying to get YOURS Riki."

Ni-Ki shoots his hands up in defense. "I offered to give you one, don't pin this on me!"

You roll your eyes playfully. "If you gave me one it wouldn't count towards Billboard! I was being a supportive partner!"

Ni-Ki laughs, admitting defeat. "Alright you got me, but only because we don't have much time."

"Sounds like an excuse, but I'll take my win."

"Good decision Y/n, you don't win often!" Ni-Ki laughs

"Oh you're so dead when you get home."

You wait in Riki's dorm room, hearing his steps grow closer

You jump on him as he walks in

"Ack- What the- Y/n?"

"I told you earlier! Your dead meat Riki!"

877 notes · View notes

kxsagi · 3 months ago

Note

heyyyy, how are you doing???:)

so I've been seeing a lot of bllk x fem!reader fanfic yk those typical "sneaking in" and "dressing up as a guy" to fit in blue lock. may I request about what the blue lock 11 starters' reaction would be when they found out? i can picture isagi making up different possible scenarios as to how reader hasn't been found and lock off by ego considering he's very VERY meticulous with every player's information? please don't mind this request if you're uncomfortable ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡ thank youuuu, have a nice day:)

“𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬”

a/n: heyyy, i'm doing good! i hope you are as well, pretty

thank you for the request, this was more fun to write than i expected!

(art credits go to kaziris_ on x)

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu, aryuu jyubei, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, niko ikki, gagamaru gin

isagi yoichi

spirals. immediately.

“wait. no. that’s not – wait. how?? ego checks everything. he runs background checks, medical records, locker room rotations –"

cue isagi pacing like a madman at 2 AM trying to piece together how you avoided getting caught.

at one point he’s literally scribbling plays on a whiteboard like it’s match analysis: “okay, so if she never showered when anyone else was around, and faked voice cracks at key points… wait. WAS THAT WHY YOU NEVER CHANGED IN FRONT OF US???”

he’s not mad. he’s actually kind of amazed.

"you're like... the greatest tactical deception of blue lock."

itoshi rin

“... i knew something was off.”

lies. he did not know anything. he’s just salty that you were better than him in the last scrimmage.

lowkey respects your ability to deceive the system. no one else could’ve pulled it off.

“well, if you're still here, guess it doesn’t matter. just don’t think I’ll go easy on you because you're a girl."

surprisingly neutral, but his eyes linger on you more often now.

nagi seishiro

“oh. huh. that’s why your hands are so soft.”

not phased in the slightest.

honestly thinks it’s kind of cool that you tricked everyone. “that sounds like a pain. but also kinda genius.”

keeps accidentally calling you “dude” out of habit and then awkwardly correcting himself: “uh. dudette? nah that sounds weird…”

karasu tabito

laughs SO HARD he literally cries.

“bro. BRO. you mean to tell me you were out here breaking ankles and gender norms???”

starts making up fake backstories about how you smuggled a fake mustache into the dorms or used voice-changing tech.

100% wants to know how you did it. every detail. for science (and blackmail).

otoya eita

the flirt switch FLIPS IMMEDIATELY.

“so you're saying i wasn't crazy for thinking you were kinda hot?”

annoyingly smooth about it. calls you “princess” just to see you get flustered.

absolutely refuses to stop flirting. even more now.

“if you needed help keeping the secret, you could’ve asked me. i’m great at keeping things under wraps, baby girl.”

yukimiya kenyu

dramatic gasp. glasses off. slow-motion blink.

“you… you’re a her?”

the poetic side of him kicks in: “like a rose blooming in a battlefield…”

would never admit it, but he starts fixing his hair more often around you now.

supportive as hell though. tells you he respects your drive and the risks you took.

aryuu jyubei

strikes a pose and fans himself with his own hand. “mon dieu… the betrayal… you mean to say… all this time… i wasn’t the only icon here???”

says you’ve raised the standard of beauty and elegance in blue lock.

insists on giving you a makeover “to match your true self,” even if you’re like, “bro please no.”

might actually fight otoya for flirting too much.

bachira meguru

gasps in dramatic anime fashion.

“NO WAY! you’re a GIRL?! THIS IS AMAZING!”

he’s totally hype about it. takes it as a challenge, like, “you were able to sneak by the whole blue lock team?? you’re a legend, let’s be best friends forever!”

starts calling you “mystery girl” and constantly refers to you as his “partner in crime.”

“i knew you were special, but this is next-level. no one can keep a secret like that and still play like a monster!!”

chigiri hyoma

goes very still. blinks. stares.

“... wait. you're serious?”

he has a lot of emotions. probably more than he expected.

part of him’s like, “hell yeah. girl power.” and the other part is like “oh no she’s hot.”

quietly covers for you when needed. he gets what it’s like to be underestimated.

niko ikki

poor boy.exe has stopped working.

you tell him and he literally just stares with wide eyes like a deer in headlights.

doesn’t know what to say for the longest time. then mutters, “i... always thought your voice was kinda nice.”

gets super flustered afterward and avoids eye contact for three days straight.

gagamaru gin

“HUH???”

pure confusion. “but… you tackled me last week. and cursed at me. in a super deep voice. i thought you were just… intense?”

he's like a golden retriever trying to understand algebra. but he means well.

“wait does this mean we weren’t supposed to share toothpaste???”

819 notes · View notes

ka1rin · 5 months ago

Text

Tension

Sae Itoshi x Reader , wc: 3.1k , genre: smut

MDNI! contains & themes: hate sex, enemies to lovers, p in v, teasing

It was a well known fact at your school that you and Sae Itoshi absolutely hated each other. No one could pinpoint exactly when it started, but the mutual disdain had been there for years.

Maybe it was the way Sae thought the world revolved around football, completely ignoring everything else. School events? Group projects? Cleaning duties? Sae was always absent, choosing to spend his time practicing or playing matches. It infuriated you how he'd get away with it, just because he was the star player.

Meanwhile, you were the complete opposite. You threw yourself into every school event and project, often leading committees and organizing programs. So every time Sae's name would pop up on a list and he wouldn't show, you'd end up picking up the slack. And oh, you let him know about it.

"You could at least pretend to care about something other than football," you snapped at him once after an event where you ended up staying late because he didn't show up to help.

He didn't even glance up from his phone. "Not my problem."

That nonchalant attitude of his made your blood boil. Meanwhile, Sae hated you for entirely different reasons. In his eyes, you were nothing more than an annoying perfectionist who constantly nagged him. Every time you got in his face about responsibilities or schoolwork, it only reinforced his belief that you were too uptight, too controlling.

"You should stop trying so hard," he told you once, his tone flat and bored. "It's pathetic."

The animosity between the two of you was so obvious that even the teachers knew better than to pair you up for anything. But fate, or your English teacher had other plans.

The sun blazed through the classroom windows as your teacher's voice echoed in the room. You were already annoyed, scribbling notes while Sae sat at the back of the class, leaning back in his chair, looking half-asleep.

"Sae Itoshi, see me after class," the teacher said sharply, snapping her fingers to get his attention.

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder. For once, it looked like karma was catching up with him.

When the bell rang, you were packing up your things when your teacher called your name. "(Y/N), stay for a moment, too."

You froze, narrowing your eyes. Whatever this was, you already didn't like it.

Sae stood in front of the teacher's desk, his arms crossed, his usual stoic expression firmly in place. You joined them reluctantly, your annoyance bubbling at the thought of having to deal with him for even another second.

"Alright, Sae," the teacher began, folding her arms. "Your grades in English are unacceptable. If you fail another test, you'll be ineligible for the football tournament."

You suppressed a laugh, but the smirk on your face was hard to hide. Sae's expression, though subtle, faltered for just a second.

"And you, (Y/N)," the teacher continued, turning to you. "Since English is your strongest subject, I'm assigning you as Sae's tutor."

"What?" you and Sae said in unison.

"This is ridiculous," Sae muttered, his voice cold.

"And I don't have time to babysit him," you added, crossing your arms.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by either of your protests. "You'll make time. This is non-negotiable. I expect you two to work together every afternoon until Sae's grades improve. That's final."

The classroom fell silent as your teacher walked out, leaving you and Sae behind with an awkward air of tension. You sat on one end of the desk, arms crossed, glaring at him. He, of course, looked completely unbothered, as if this was all a waste of his precious time.

"Okay," you began sharply, "we'll meet at the library tomorrow after class. Be there by 4 PM, and don't be late."

Sae raised an eyebrow, his tone as flat as ever. "The library? No thanks."

You scowled. "What do you mean, 'no thanks'? That's where people study."

He shrugged. "Too many people. It's noisy, and I don't want anyone seeing me being babysat."

Your irritation flared instantly. "Babysat? This is tutoring, not babysitting. And maybe if you actually cared about school, we wouldn't even have to do this!"

Sae ignored your outburst, pulling his phone out of his pocket lazily. "Let's just do it at my place. It'll be quiet, and I can focus better."

Your eyes narrowed. "Your place? Are you kidding me?"

He met your glare with a bored look, like you were the one being unreasonable. "What's the problem? You scared or something?"

That last comment struck a nerve. "Scared? Of you? Not in a million years."

"Good," he said with a faint smirk. "My place. 6 PM. Don't be late."

Before you could argue further, he turned and walked off, leaving you fuming in your seat.

By 6 PM, you stood outside Sae's house, clutching your bag and muttering complaints under your breath. This was not how you envisioned spending your evening. When the door finally opened, there he was, leaning casually against the frame in his hoodie and sweatpants.

"Took you long enough," he said.

"You said 6 PM. It's 6 PM," you snapped, brushing past him as you stepped inside.

His house was annoyingly perfect, modern, clean, and minimalistic. It looked like a magazine photo shoot, which only irritated you more.

"Nice place," you muttered sarcastically, dropping your bag on the coffee table.

Sae ignored your tone, sitting on the couch and grabbing a pen. "Let's just start."

You sat across from him, pulling out your notes. "Alright, let's review your grammar mistakes from the test. Here's what you got wrong—"

"Do we really have to go over every single one?" he interrupted, leaning back.

"Yes, because you clearly don't understand the basics," you shot back, already losing patience. "You can't just skim through this stuff and expect to pass."

"And you can't just lecture me like I'm some clueless idiot," he replied, his voice calm but sharp.

"Well, if the shoe fits," you said, unable to stop yourself.

He sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. "You know, you're really annoying."

"Funny, because you're really disappointing," you snapped. "Do you even care about anything other than football? Do you even realize how much everyone else has to pick up the slack because you can't be bothered to show up or help?"

Sae's jaw clenched, and for the first time, you saw something like anger flash in his usually calm eyes. "I didn't ask for anyone to pick up my slack. I didn't ask for your help, either. If you hate this so much, then why are you even here?"

"Because I was forced to help you!" you yelled, standing up and glaring down at him.

He stood up too, towering over you slightly. "You think I wanted this? You think I need you to save me? If I wanted to, I could pass this class on my own."

"Oh, please," you scoffed. "If you could pass on your own, we wouldn't even be here right now. Just admit it—you're all talk, no action."

Sae's expression hardened, his voice dropping to a quiet, almost dangerous tone. "And you're so obsessed with being in control that you can't handle it when things don't go your way."

His words hit like a slap, and you opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, he continued, his voice softening in a way that threw you off completely.

"You're exhausting," he muttered, his gaze flicking to yours briefly before dropping. "But... I guess I don't hate it when you're around."

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. "What did you just say?"

Sae's eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, he looked genuinely flustered. "Nothing. Forget it," he said quickly, turning away and sitting back down. "Let's just finish this."

Your mind raced, and you sat down slowly, unsure of what to make of what just happened. The tension in the room was suffocating, but neither of you dared to say anything about it.

The session had spiraled into chaos—or at least, that's what it felt like. Sae had been working through his workbook, and you had been mindlessly scrolling on your phone. That's when you stumbled upon the clip of his last game, where he'd scored the winning goal. Of course, the caption sang his praises: "Sae Itoshi: MVP, the genius striker!"

You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you double-tapped the post.

"What's so funny now?" Sae's voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a knife.

You looked up at him, irritated by his tone. "Nothing. Just people hyping you up again like you're some kind of god or something."

His expression darkened. "Let me see."

"Why do you even care?" you shot back, standing up and walking over to him. "Here. It's just this post. Chill out." You leaned over, holding the phone toward him.

But he didn't look at the screen. Instead, his sharp eyes locked onto yours. "You're always like this," he said, his voice low but laced with irritation. "Always in my face, always acting like you know everything."

"Maybe if you weren't so hopeless, I wouldn't have to!" you snapped, standing up straighter.

"And maybe if you weren't so annoying, I wouldn't ignore you half the time," he fired back, standing up as well, towering over you now.

The tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with unspoken words. You didn't back down, stepping closer. "You think ignoring everything makes you better than everyone else, don't you?"

"Maybe it does," he said, his tone sharp. "Better than someone who can't stop running her mouth."

You glared at him, your heart racing as your faces were now just inches apart. "God, you're so—"

Before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you forward, his other hand gripping your jaw as his lips crashed into yours. It was messy, desperate, and caught you completely off guard.

For a moment, your mind blanked. All the anger, the frustration, the years of clashing with him—they all melted away as his lips moved against yours, firm and unyielding. His hand slid from your wrist to your waist, pulling you closer.

You froze for a second, shocked, but then something inside you snapped. Without thinking, you kissed him back, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as you pushed against him with just as much intensity.

The chair behind him scraped the floor as he backed up, pulling you with him. His hands tightened on your waist, guiding you closer, until your body was flush against his. The kiss deepened, his lips parting slightly as his tongue brushed against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.

Your hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping tightly as if you needed something to ground yourself. The kiss was heated, every ounce of pent-up frustration pouring into it. You didn't care about the argument anymore, didn't care about why you hated him or why this was happening, you just didn't want it to stop.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing uneven. His eyes were half lidded, the usual coldness in them replaced by something much more intense.

"You're infuriating," he muttered, his voice rough and breathless.

"Right back at you," you shot back, your voice just as unsteady. But instead of pulling away, you leaned in again, pressing your lips to his once more.

This time, it was slower but just as fiery, his hands exploring your sides as yours tangled in his hair. The heat between you was overwhelming, and you couldn't bring yourself to care about how far things had escalated.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen from the intensity. The room was silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing.

"...So," you said after a long pause, trying to catch your breath, "was that supposed to shut me up?"

His lips curved into a small smirk. "It worked, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the small smile tugging at your lips.

The air was thick with tension, the heat between you and Sae undeniable after the kiss you'd shared. But it wasn't over. Neither of you could quite look away, as if the intensity between you was drawing you in further.

You took a step back, still a little rattled, but your body didn't quite follow the command of your mind. The silence hung in the air until Sae broke it, his voice a low growl.

"Fuck this studying," he muttered suddenly, pushing the workbook aside.

"What?!" you sputtered, staring at him, incredulous. "We were supposed to—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he yanked you toward him. "Shut up," he commanded, his grip firm as he pulled you down onto his lap. You gasped in surprise, your heart pounding as his hand pressed firmly against your back to keep you in place.

Your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself perched on his lap, your face dangerously close to his. The heat between your bodies was undeniable, your pulse hammering in your ears.

"Sae! What the hell?" you snapped, trying to push him away, but his hands quickly cupped your face, holding you still.

"I'm done pretending," he muttered, before his lips descended on your neck, kissing you with unexpected urgency. Your body froze as you felt the warmth of his mouth against your skin.

"Stop, Sae!" you gasped, but his lips didn't stop moving, trailing down your neck, and you felt yourself give in to the sensation, your heartbeat accelerating. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and all at once, you felt like you were drowning in the tension.

Then, before you even realized what he was doing, he pressed a quick peck to your lips—teasing, fleeting, as if to remind you of how easily he could break your resolve.

"Now we're talking," Sae whispered, his voice low and gravelly as he looked at you, his eyes darkened with something more intense than annoyance.

You were still trying to catch your breath, heart racing, as his smirk only grew. "What the hell is wrong with you?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, his fingers gently caressing your jaw. "I could ask you the same thing." His smirk softened, and before you could react, his lips were on yours again, this time without hesitation.

You kissed him back, the intensity of it surprising you both. His hand slipped down your back, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel every muscle in his body tighten. The kiss grew deeper, his lips exploring yours as if trying to stake a claim.

You felt something hard and firm shift beneath you as you sat on Sae's lap. Your face flushed crimson, knowing exactly what it was, his considerable length stirring against you through his pants. Sae's smirk deepened, his hands firmly planted on your waist, pulling you slightly closer.

As Sae pulled you closer, your hips instinctively began to move, rubbing your wet panties against his now throbbing length. You moaned softly into his mouth as he captured your lips again, his smirk turning into a deep, hungry kiss.

Sae's right hand left your waist to reach between your thighs, his fingers deftly flipping up your short skirt to expose your soaked panties. He rubbed your sensitive clit in slow, deliberate circles as you continued to grind your core against his hardness, your moans and whimpers music to his ears.

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you onto the nearby table. His hands moved to his belt buckle, undoing it with a clink. He slowly pulled down his pants, revealing boxers that strained against his impressive size.

With one smooth motion, he removed his boxers, revealing his massive, throbbing member glistening with precum. He stepped closer, lining himself up with your still-covered pussy. Teasingly, he rubbed the head of his cock along your wet panties, causing you to whimper. "S-Sae...please.."

What do you want me to do?' Sae asked teasingly, his voice low and husky as he continued rubbing his hard cock against your soaked panties. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear, 'Say it, y/n. Tell me exactly what you need.

"I need you inside me, Sae..." you whimpered desperately, your body aching with desire. Sae flashed you a devilish grin, 'Good girl,' he praised, his voice dripping with desire. In one swift motion, he tore your panties off, exposing your soaked pussy

He then rubbed his cock on your clit, moving down slowly till he reaches your hole. "Fuck"Sae groaned as he slowly pushed forward, the head of his thick cock easing past your tight entrance. Your pussy clenched around him, hot and slick. He paused, letting you adjust to his size before slowly sinking deeper with each inch, stretching you deliciously.

He began with a slow, steady pace, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein as he stretched you open. 'Fuck, you're so tight,' he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

As Sae quickened his pace, his thick member pounding into you, he reached down to tease your sensitive bundle of nerves. He circled his fingers around your swollen bud, rubbing in slow circles as he thrust into you deeper and faster. "Sae... Sae..." you whined, chanting his name like a prayer.

"...Sae! Sae! Oh god, Sae!' you whined, your voice rising to a desperate chant as he fucked you senseless. Your hands scrabbled at the table, your back arching as he hit that sweet spot inside you over and over.

Your pussy began fluttering around Sae's cock again, signaling another impending orgasm. 'Close already?' Sae murmured teasingly in your ear. Without waiting for a reply, he whispered urgently, 'Cum for me, baby. Soak my cock with your juices.'

As soon as those words left his lips, your body betrayed you, convulsing with another powerful orgasm. 'Fuck!' you cried out, your nails digging into his arms. With one final deep thrust, Sae let out a guttural moan, 'I'm fucking cumming..."

Both of you collapsed against each other, chests heaving as you shared labored breaths. A slow, satisfied smirk spread across Sae's face as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

Sae slowly pulled out, watching your release trickle down your thighs. He looked around at the scene - books you meticulously prepared for his lessons thrown everywhere, pages wrinkled and wet with your arousal.

Sae teased, picking up a book and flipping through the soggy pages. 'So, are we still studying?' You rolled your eyes and muttered a curse under your breath. 'Fuck you,' you said, but Sae just chuckled and said, 'Stay here, it's late.

806 notes · View notes

1982grapejuiceblues · 3 months ago

Text

The Mistake I

Series Masterlist | Official Masterlist

The Wrong Pitch Part 1

Summary:

She sat at the wrong table. He didn’t tell her. It was supposed to be a mistake — a mix-up, a meet-cute with no consequences. But something about him lingers. And something about her makes him stay. One unexpected conversation. One missed connection. And two people who can’t quite let it go.

A/N: This is the first part in my first Harry fic! I'm so excited, this has been a labor of love and an outlet for my creative juices. I hope you guys love these two as much as I do.

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings:

• Emotional miscommunication

• Mild angst

• Anxiety spiraling / fear of rejection

• Self-doubt

• No physical touch — only emotional intimacy

• Delayed gratification (they do not kiss in this part!)

• Vibes: if-you-like-to-suffer-softly™

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Tuesday 9:06 a.m. - Milk & Honey

Y/N was late, and it was entirely, stupidly, predictably her own fault.

She’d set her alarm. Gotten up early. Even made a checklist. But then she’d done the thing she always did — convinced herself she had just enough time for a homemade coffee and a quick scroll through email.

Which became a not-so-quick scroll. Which turned into a rush out the door, half-dressed and under-caffeinated, with a latte that was more oat milk than espresso and an anxiety level creeping into the red.

She was now power-walking down a narrow Notting Hill side street with her bag bouncing against her hip and her phone buzzing in her coat pocket like it had something judgy to say.

9:06 a.m.

The meeting had been set for nine sharp.

Her boots slapped the pavement as she skidded around a corner and spotted the café ahead — Milk & Honey, of course. Brody Talbot would only agree to a meeting at a place that sounded like it was trying too hard to be whimsical.

It was charming in that perfectly curated way: potted plants in mismatched mugs, fairy lights in the windows, chalkboard menu with extra loops in the cursive. Inside, it was a mosaic of indie girls, old couples with newspapers, and creative types nursing cappuccinos like they held life-altering secrets.

Y/N paused at the door just long enough to press a hand over her chest and try to slow her heart rate. She could do this. It was one meeting. With one very opinionated, very overrated, very tortured author.

She scanned the tables.

And there he was.

In the corner by the window.

Notebook open. Black jumper.

Curls falling lazily across his forehead as he scribbled something into the page.

Sleeves pushed to the elbows. Rings catching the morning light.

God help me, that is absolutely a Brody.

She approached.

“Hi!” she said, breathless and maybe too bright. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Y/N, from Primrose Literary.”

The man looked up. Slowly. Casually.

Like he had all the time in the world.

And that’s when her brain stalled out.

Because holy shit, this man was beautiful.

Not just attractive. Beautiful. In a way that made time hiccup for a second. Green eyes sharp and calm, mouth soft at the edges, a face that somehow made you want to confess something. And a dimple. Of course there was a dimple.

He blinked once, then tilted his head slightly. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

“You’re… not Brody Talbot?”

He smiled. Just a little. “Nope.”

Her entire soul tried to crawl out of her body.

“Oh my god,” she said, already backing up. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were— You just looked very—”

“Writer-y?” he offered, amusement curling around his voice.

“Yes! Exactly. You looked like someone who would write emotionally devastating fiction and judge me for being late.”

“I mean, I can judge you, if that helps.”

She groaned, covering her face. “Please don’t. I’m begging you.”

“I’m just saying,” he added, “you walked in with the energy of someone who’s about to pitch a debut novel and cry about the advance.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “That’s painfully accurate.”

“I’m Harry,” he said, offering no last name, no explanation. Just that — warm and simple and a little too easy.

“Y/N,” she replied, like they hadn’t already been through this part.

“I know. You introduced yourself. Very professionally.”

She gave him a flat look.

He grinned.

Harry watched her flounder with the kind of amused stillness that only someone deeply confident — or deeply entertained — could pull off.

Y/N, on the other hand, felt like she was unraveling in high definition.

“I can’t believe I just sat down across from a stranger and announced my job title like it was a secret code.”

“To be fair,” he said, “you had a very convincing entrance. Firm intro. Apology with just the right amount of panic. Strong eye contact. That’s the kind of energy I want from my wedding speeches.”

She blinked. “You’re married?”

“What? No.”

“You write wedding speeches?”

He nodded, unbothered. “Professionally.”

“That’s a real job?”

“Apparently. People pay me to make them sound like they understand their own feelings.”

“That’s…” She narrowed her eyes. “Honestly kind of amazing.”

“I get that reaction a lot. Right after ‘you’re making that up.’”

She raised her brows. “You are, though.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Cross my heart.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It is,” he agreed, “and also mildly lucrative.”

Y/N laughed — really laughed — and something about it lit him up a little. She saw it. That flicker in his expression like he hadn’t meant to enjoy this quite so much.

“I don’t usually do this,” she said, waving a hand between them.

“Crash tables?”

“Talk to strangers.”

“You sat down like you knew me.”

“I thought I did.”

“Well,” he said, “I’d argue you weren’t completely wrong.”

She tilted her head.

“You said I looked writer-y,” he said. “Broody. Like someone who’d glare at you for being late.”

“Right…”

“I do write. Just not fiction.”

“Wedding speeches,” she said again, still incredulous.

He nodded.

“What does one even say in a speech like that?”

“Depends on the person,” he said. “Some people want heartfelt. Others want funny. Most people want to sound like they’re not terrified.”

“And you… translate that for them?”

“I take their chaos,” he said simply, “and turn it into something that sounds like love.”

That landed like a stone in her stomach.

“That’s…” she started, then stopped.

He just looked at her — patient, still, a little too knowing.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, looking down at her latte. “That was more profound than I was prepared for on a Tuesday.”

Harry smiled. “You’d be surprised how often that happens.”

Next thing she knew, she was fifteen minutes in. Still sitting. Still talking. Still not texting her boss to say yes, I found Brody Talbot and no, I haven’t fantasized about throwing a drink in his face yet.

She didn’t even know what she and Harry were talking about anymore. Favorite cafés. The ethics of ghostwriting love. Whether or not books were better when they made you cry.

(He said yes. She said sometimes.)

There was something about him — his ease, his warmth, his unhurried way of speaking — that made the air around them feel like something different. Not romantic. Not exactly.

But charged.

Familiar.

Safe.

Dangerous.

And then the door opened.

She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. Brody Talbot radiated disdain like a cologne.

Harry followed her gaze. “Is that…”

“Yep,” she said, standing too quickly. “The real Brody. The one I was supposed to impress instead of, you know, you.”

“I’m flattered,” Harry said, not moving.

She grabbed her tote. “Thanks for not being weird about this.”

“Thanks for making my grocery-list-writing morning wildly more interesting.”

She paused. Hesitated.

“You know,” she said, “you’re very good at putting people at ease.”

He looked up at her with that soft, crooked half-smile.

“That’s literally my job.”

And that was the problem.

Because he meant it. And she kind of wished he didn’t.

9:43 a.m.

Y/N turned toward the door.

Brody Talbot had spotted her, of course — standing with his arms crossed and a frown like someone had given him almond milk instead of oat. She gave him a short wave and started across the café, but paused — just for a breath — and turned back to Harry.

He hadn’t moved.

Still in the corner booth, arms resting lightly on the table, watching her with a soft kind of curiosity. Not clingy. Not expectant.

Just… present.

“I hope your client’s less of a diva than mine,” she said, half-joking.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You were kind of my favorite meeting of the week.”

She blinked.

“I’m not saying much,” he added, “but still. Thought I’d mention it.”

She smiled, a little caught off guard.

“I hope they know how lucky they are,” he said, more seriously this time.

Something fluttered low in her chest.

“They don’t,” she replied before she could stop herself.

And then, before the moment could stretch too long, she offered him a final, crooked smile — one part thank you, one part I wish this were different — and turned away.

She walked toward Brody like someone crossing a tightrope: careful, deliberate, already regretting it.

Harry watched her go.

Didn’t stop her. Didn’t call after her.

But something in his chest pulled taut, like he’d just been written into a story and cut from the next chapter before it started.

He opened his notebook.

Wrote:

“She sat down like the seat was waiting for her.

She left like the moment didn’t mean anything.

But it did.

I know it did.”

10:14 a.m.

Brody Talbot looked like he hadn’t smiled since the 2012 Booker Prize shortlist.

He was tall, pale, and sharp-edged — not in the sexy, mysterious way, but in the “I’ve definitely written a twelve-page takedown of a debut author on my blog” way. His coat was expensive and unnecessary. His frown was immediate.

“You’re late,” he said, voice flat as his espresso order.

Y/N inhaled through her nose and gave him a polite smile. “Yes. Sorry about that. The tube was a nightmare this morning.”

“I don’t take the tube,” he replied. “Claustrophobic.”

She nodded like he hadn’t just said something wildly out of touch. “Shall we sit?”

He dropped into the seat with a sigh like he’d already decided the meeting was a waste of his time.

Y/N followed, clutching her tote like it might protect her from his disdain.

“You’re younger than I expected,” Brody said, after a long sip of coffee. “Your boss said you’d handled difficult clients before.”

“I have,” she said smoothly, sliding out her notebook. “And I’m still here.”

He didn’t smile. But something flickered behind his eyes.

She knew the type. Egotistical, overly precious about his work, probably obsessed with the phrase art for art’s sake. A man who thought deadlines were suggestions and notes were personal attacks.

“My last agent,” he said, “wanted me to do social media content. Can you imagine?”

“The horror,” she said dryly.

“She suggested a giveaway. Like I’m a bloody influencer.”

Y/N scribbled nothing in her notebook. “We’d never ask you to give away your soul for engagement, Brody.”

“Thank God.”

He paused, then added, “Unless you liked the book.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“She didn’t like my last manuscript. Said it was ‘too internal.’”

“Isn’t that sort of your whole brand?”

That earned her a sharp glance.

She stared back, unbothered.

He set his coffee down. “You’ve read it?”

“All of them,” she said. “I liked the second. The third needed a stronger editor. The first one tried too hard.”

That startled him.

“You asked,” she said, flipping a page.

He crossed his arms. “Maybe you’re not a total waste of my morning.”

“Thank you,” she deadpanned. “I’ll put that on my business card.”

10:46 a.m.

They spoke for another twenty minutes. He talked in circles. Repeated himself. Lamented the collapse of intellectualism like he wasn’t sitting in a café filled with people reading real books.

Y/N nodded and made all the right noises, but her brain was elsewhere. Somewhere softer.

Back at the other table.

Harry.

The quiet way he watched her. The way he’d smiled when she said he was charming. The way his voice dropped when he said, “I like putting feelings into words.”

It was completely irrational. She didn’t even know his last name. But something about him had made the morning feel fuller.

This? Felt like a chore.

She realized with a jolt that Brody was still talking.

“—so obviously it’s not commercial, but it’s important.”

She blinked. “Of course.”

“You weren’t listening.”

“I was.”

“What did I say?”

“That it’s not commercial, but it’s important.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re good at bluffing.”

She smiled tightly. “You’re good at monologuing.”

A beat. And then, to her surprise, he laughed.

It was short. Clipped. But real.

“You’re a pain,” he said.

“You’re a lot.”

“This might actually work.”

She wasn’t sure if he meant her representing him, or something more ominous — like emotional warfare.

Either way, she was ready to get the hell out of there.

10:56 a.m.

They stood. He offered a curt nod and handed her a business card with only his name and a lowercase email address on it.

“I’ll send the manuscript,” he said. “You can send your notes. But I won’t read them.”

“Perfect,” she said. “I love being ignored.”

“You’re going to do well,” he said, oddly sincere. “Just don’t lose your edge.”

She wanted to say, I left my edge in the corner booth with a man who made me laugh before nine a.m.

Instead, she said, “I never do.”

He left without another word.

She counted to five. And then, before she could change her mind, she stepped back inside the café.

10:59 a.m.

He was gone.

She didn’t know what she expected — a note, maybe. His number on a napkin. His voice, still lingering in the air.

The booth was empty.

The seat was cold.

And Y/N realized something that she really didn’t want to admit:

She hadn’t just walked away from a stranger.

She’d walked away from a spark.

And she might never get it back.

10:48 a.m.

He saw her before he left.

She was sitting at a new table, diagonally across the café. Her back was straighter now, her shoulders squared in that quiet, professional way people do when they’ve put their walls back up. Her face was calm, practiced — polite in the exact way it had not been with him.

The man across from her looked like he came with footnotes. Expensive glasses. Sharp lapel. Frown lines carved into his face like he’d earned them. He gestured with his spoon when he spoke. The kind of man who probably didn’t ask questions so much as wait for silence so he could fill it.

Harry didn’t need to guess who he was.

Brody.

Y/N didn’t look miserable. But she didn’t look like the girl who’d laughed into her latte twenty minutes ago, either.

She wasn’t touching her drink. Wasn’t gesturing. Wasn’t letting herself take up the same space she had at his table.

Something about that bothered him more than he expected.

Harry lingered by the counter with the remains of his flat white in hand, watching the espresso drip into someone else’s cup. He should’ve left already. He knew that.

He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.

Maybe a glance. A nod. A half-second acknowledgment that she still remembered what it felt like to talk to him instead of the person she was supposed to be meeting.

But she didn’t look up.

He considered staying — for real. Sitting back down in the booth they’d shared, pulling out his notebook again, letting the day stretch. But something about it felt… off. Intrusive. Like pushing his luck would break whatever weird little moment they’d already had.

So instead, he quietly reached into his pocket, pulled out a crumpled five-pound note, and left it folded under his cup on the counter.

He passed the table on his way out. Let his eyes linger for the span of a breath.

She was mid-sentence, eyebrows raised at something Brody had said. Not smiling, not quite frowning. Just… present. Distantly.

Harry stepped through the door, letting the bell chime softly behind him.

He didn’t look back.

11:52 a.m.

He walked. Aimless, slow, hands in his pockets, mind full.

Past the florist next door. Down toward the canal. A street performer was tuning a guitar just outside the station, playing half-chords that didn’t go anywhere.

Harry kept walking.

She hadn’t looked up. And why would she?

She was doing her job. Meeting her author. Handling her morning like the competent, sharp, slightly chaotic literary agent she clearly was.

What they had — that half-hour window of strangeness and connection — it didn’t mean anything.

Except… it kind of did.

He hated that. The way it clung to him. Like fog in his chest. Not heavy, just… present.

He pulled out his phone and opened Notes.

Typed:

I shouldn’t care.

But she made me want to listen to myself speak.

That doesn’t happen often.

Deleted it. Started again.

There was something there. I know there was.

It felt like breathing with someone else in the room.

No. Too much. Too abstract.

Deleted it again.

12:43 p.m.

He sat on his sofa. One leg curled under him, tea on the coffee table. Notebook open to a blank page.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then wrote:

She sat across from me like it wasn’t a mistake.

Like the seat had always been mine.

Like maybe I was supposed to be there.

Then:

I wanted to ask her to stay.

I didn’t.

She left.

I watched her walk toward someone else.

And I didn’t stop her.

Because I didn’t think I had the right to.

He closed the notebook before he could second-guess it.

Ran a hand over his jaw. Pressed the heel of his palm against his eye.

It was nothing.

A stranger. A spark. A moment.

But still… he felt off.

Like something had been almost real, and now it was out of reach.

3:10 p.m.

He passed the café again.

Didn’t even plan to — he was just walking, really. But when he saw the familiar string of fairy lights through the window, his heart gave a little thud he pretended not to notice.

He slowed down.

She wasn’t there.

Different crowd now. A group of friends chatting over croissants. A man in a suit reading a thick paperback. An older woman sipping something bright green with both hands wrapped around the cup.

The booth was empty.

He stood at the edge of the window, looking in for a second too long.

And then kept walking.

He didn’t know what he was hoping for.

He just knew that nothing else that day had felt as vivid as the first five minutes of it.

6:03 p.m. - Y/N's Flat

Her flat was too quiet.

It wasn’t usually a problem — she liked the quiet. She’d picked this place because it was small and cozy and didn’t echo when she walked barefoot across the hardwood floor. But tonight, the silence felt different. Like it was waiting for something she hadn’t said yet.

She stood in the kitchen, staring at the stovetop like it had personally offended her. The pasta was overdone. The sauce was barely warmed through. She didn’t even bother with a plate — just poured it into a chipped ceramic bowl and sat at the kitchen table with a glass of wine she didn’t remember opening.

The light above her hummed faintly. Her phone buzzed once. Then again.

Two new emails. Both boring.

She didn’t open them.

She stared down at her bowl, fork dangling from her fingers, and let the weight of the day settle on her shoulders.

It wasn’t supposed to matter this much.

But it did.

6:16 p.m.

She hadn’t meant to sit with him.

That was the thing she kept circling back to — the randomness of it. How easily it could’ve gone another way. If she’d arrived five minutes earlier. If she’d looked left instead of right. If he hadn’t looked like a writer.

But he had.

He’d looked like the kind of person who knew how to listen — really listen. The kind of man who wrote longhand and drank coffee slowly and said the word romantic like it wasn’t embarrassing.

She hadn’t expected to like him.

She definitely hadn’t expected to leave the conversation feeling like she was walking away from something unfinished.

It was a mistake. A mix-up. A one-off interaction.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Not in the swoony, fairy-tale way. She wasn’t an idiot.

It was just… something shifted.

And she felt it.

Still felt it, hours later, like an echo.

6:42 p.m.

The water was too hot, but she didn’t get out.

She lay still, arms floating, trying to focus on the quiet splash of the bathwater against the tub. Her phone buzzed on the counter. She ignored it.

Tried to think about work. About the manuscript she needed to review. About the client who’d ghosted her for a week. About Brody, whose ego was roughly the size of London.

But instead, she thought about dimples.

And green eyes.

And that line — “People don’t know how to say what they mean.”

And the way he’d looked at her when she told him his job was weirdly romantic.

He hadn’t laughed it off.

He’d just… seen her.

And now he was gone.

And she didn’t know how to explain why that mattered.

7:12 p.m.

She curled up on the couch, still damp from the bath, oversized jumper sleeves pulled over her hands. The wineglass was on the floor beside her. Her planner was in her lap. She hadn’t written anything yet.

The page was blank.

She flipped back a few days, just to ground herself. Checked her own handwriting like it might remind her who she was before this morning happened.

But all she saw was white space.

Like something had started today — and she didn’t know how to write it down.

Eventually, she opened a new page in her notes app. Started typing, slowly.

Today I made a mistake.

Sat down at the wrong table.

Met a stranger.

Talked about nothing.

Felt more like myself than I have in weeks.

Then, under that:

It shouldn’t matter.

But it does.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

She didn’t delete it.

She didn’t send it to anyone.

She just stared at it until the screen dimmed.

8:04 p.m.

She poured another glass of wine and walked into the bedroom. Turned on the fairy lights. Crawled into bed fully dressed, covers pulled up over her legs like armor.

She opened Instagram again. Searched Milk & Honey Café. Scrolled. Searched her own photos, wondering if maybe she’d caught him in the background of something — a ghost of him somewhere.

Nothing.

She didn’t know why that stung.

She reached for her planner again, flipped to Sunday, and wrote:

Milk & Honey – 9:00 a.m.

Then circled it.

Then added a question mark.

Just to keep herself honest.

9:12 p.m.

She turned out the light and lay in bed, wide awake.

And when she finally drifted off — slow, heavy, unwilling — she dreamed about a corner booth, a cold cup of coffee, and a man with ink on his fingers who smiled like he already knew the ending.

Wednesday 8:04 a.m. — Y/N's Flat

The sun had the audacity to be golden.

The kind of light that filtered through gauzy curtains and made everything feel softer than it deserved to be. The kind of light you woke up to when something good was supposed to happen. Not when your stomach was twisted and your brain was still playing back a voice you barely knew but couldn’t forget.

Y/N lay in bed longer than usual.

Eyes open. Motionless. Staring at the ceiling like it might offer some answer to a question she hadn’t asked out loud.

What was that?

She didn’t say it. But it sat there — right in the center of her chest, heavy as anything.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. It wasn’t even supposed to happen. But now it lived somewhere in her, and she didn’t know how to unfeel it.

She finally got up around 8:17, shuffled into the kitchen barefoot, and stood in front of the kettle like it owed her something.

Her planner was still on the table.

The line she’d scribbled the night before — Milk & Honey – 9:00 a.m. — stared back at her like a dare.

She hadn’t crossed it out.

She hadn’t meant to write it seriously. It was just a fleeting, impulsive maybe. An if-I-see-him-it-was-meant-to-be kind of note.

But now it was morning.

And maybe that felt too loud.

8:34 a.m.

She brushed her teeth with one hand and scrolled through her calendar with the other.

Two calls. One deadline. A reading sample from a client who “just wanted to see if the concept made sense” and had sent twelve pages of character backstory with no plot.

But still — her eyes kept flicking back to the corner of the mirror. To her own face.

She looked the same.

Except she didn’t feel it.

Her reflection stared back, still and a little guarded. Like she was waiting for something.

You’re not going.

It’s stupid.

It wasn’t real.

She picked out jeans and a soft jumper. The same coat she wore yesterday.

Told herself it was just what was clean.

8:59 a.m. — Y/N's Street

She wasn’t walking fast. That would make it obvious.

She wasn’t checking her watch, either.

She wasn’t doing anything except… heading in that direction. Coincidentally. Casually. Just in case she wanted another coffee.

That’s what she told herself.

But her heart sped up as soon as the café came into view.

And that’s when she saw it.

The booth. The table. The seat by the window.

Empty.

Just like yesterday.

No curls. No notebook. No dimple half-hidden behind a coffee cup.

Nothing.

She stood outside for a second, frozen, her hand half-raised toward the door.

And then she turned around.

Walked straight past it.

Didn’t look back.

10:24 a.m. — Y/N’s Office

Y/N stared at the blinking cursor in her inbox like it was mocking her.

Subject: Quick follow-up on Brody

From: Her boss, naturally

Message: Did you manage to get anything useful out of him yesterday?

She could answer that.

She could talk about his refusal to cut the prologue, his disdain for all marketing language, the fact that he referred to himself as “a vessel for unfiltered emotion” without irony.

She could even mention that he called her “tolerable,” which, from Brody, might actually be a compliment.

But she didn’t.

Because none of that felt like what the meeting had really been about.

She minimized the window and leaned back in her chair, letting her gaze drift toward the stack of manuscripts on her desk. Normally, she found comfort in them — in the work, in the flow of someone else’s story.

Today, it felt like static.

She pulled out her phone.

Scrolled to the planner photo she’d taken the night before. The one where she’d written:

Milk & Honey – 9:00 a.m.

She hadn’t gone in.

She couldn’t bring herself to.

But now she was sitting at her desk feeling like she’d missed something. Not just a second chance, but… clarity.

10:46 a.m. — Harry’s Flat

He was still wearing the same coat.

It was too warm for it now, but he hadn’t taken it off after he got home — hadn’t really done anything except move around his flat like a ghost.

He picked up his phone three times.

Didn’t text anyone.

Didn’t open Instagram.

Didn’t write.

The ache wasn’t sharp anymore. Just dull and lingering. The kind that makes everything feel one step to the left — like you’re moving, but nothing’s quite aligned.

He sat on the floor, back against the couch, notebook open in his lap.

Blank page.

The pen hovered for a long time.

Then he wrote:

What’s the word for when someone leaves and you don’t even know them well enough to miss them but you do anyway?

And then:

I think I was waiting for something and didn’t realize it until I thought it might show up again.

He stared at the page.

Then scribbled it out.

11:12 a.m. — Y/N’s Office

She tapped her pen against the side of her desk.

Five times.

Then she stood up. Pushed her chair in. Walked down the hall to the break room. Poured coffee. Didn’t drink it.

When she got back to her desk, she opened a new tab and typed:

Milk & Honey café Notting Hill staff

She didn’t even know what she was hoping to find. A name? A website? A list of people who worked there? Maybe some kind of event listing with his name on it?

But it led nowhere.

The café had no online footprint beyond its Instagram — and the last post was a photo of a croissant three weeks ago with the caption “Little joys.”

She stared at it for too long.

Then finally, quietly, she whispered:

“I should’ve stayed.”

And it wasn’t about the coffee.

11:38 a.m.

He found himself back at his desk.

Laptop open. Cursor blinking in the middle of a speech he was supposed to have finished yesterday.

He typed:

“Sometimes you meet someone for five minutes and they rearrange your furniture without touching a thing.”

Paused.

Deleted it.

Rewrote:

“You made me feel like the room had better lighting.”

Nope.

Backspaced again. Too sentimental. Too obvious. Too—

His phone buzzed.

Client.

He ignored it.

He flipped back to the page from earlier. The one with her name at the top.

Y/N

Didn’t stay.

Maybe she thought it was nothing.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe I just want her to be wrong.

He closed the notebook.

Stood up.

This time, he didn’t think about where he was going.

11:59 a.m.

She didn’t even grab her coat.

Just her bag, her phone, and a sharp tug of instinct.

The manuscript on her desk could wait. Brody’s ego could wait. The emails, the edits, the never-ending cycle of deadlines — they’d all still be there in an hour.

But the pull?

That what-if?

That felt time-sensitive.

She was halfway down the block before she even checked the time.

12:03 p.m.

His steps were steady, but not rushed.

He didn’t think she’d be there. That would be too neat, too cinematic. And he didn’t believe in timing like that.

But he still wanted to sit at the table again. Just to remember. Just to feel it.

That energy. That pause. That maybe.

12:06 p.m. — Milk & Honey

Y/N rounded the corner just as Harry stepped up to the door.

They saw each other through the window first.

He froze.

She did, too.

Time paused — not dramatically, not in a crashing, heart-stopping way. Just… softly. Like a breath held a beat longer than it should be.

And then he smiled. Small. Gentle.

Like he couldn’t quite believe it.

And she smiled back.

Like maybe she could.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Part 2

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles slow burn

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teaboot · 6 months ago

Note

Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?

My earliest memory of what I would call self-awareness occurred spontaneously in the middle of my fourth birthday party, where I suddenly became alert to my existence as a separate entity surrounded by other conscious beings.

This presented to me as not dissimilar to simply being brushed along the flow of a river- experiencing life as a serious of flashbang moments and instants and sensations, like meditating to music until the individual notes break into sounds that follow no rhythm and are only noise- no past or future, only now- and then suddenly finding yourself holding a paddle in the belly of a boat with no idea what to do next.

I remember running to the body that felt safest, who I did not recognize as anything else, and asking it who all the strangers around us were. The person that I learned was my mother told me they were my aunties and uncles, and I was being silly because I KNEW them, and why was I so shy all of a sudden?

Learning to articulate myself after that instant, I remember, was immensely frustrating. Learning your first language, as I remember it, is wuite a bit like how Ive been told recovering from brain damage feels like.

YOU know what you mean. YOU know what you're saying. But there are holes where you reach for something you know MUST be there and find nothing, and must find a way to communicate using only what you have at hand. Except there are always faces looking at you, talking down to you, asking you to do tricks for them to prove you really are a real human person.

I loved art, and I'm very good at it, but GETTING good at it was the worst. I'm told I started with scribbles at six months or so, before I could walk, and at three and four I remember being immensely frustrated that I could see in my head exactly what I wanted to produce, and I didn't know how to PRODUCE it.

And simple shit, like drawing shapes and circles, developing fine motor skills. You FULLY UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT, but your hands are soft and wobbly and don't cooperate. Getting your mouth and body to obey your directions is hellish, especially when all the appliances and furniture and installations around you are built for someone easily triple your size.

Chairs are hard to sit in when you're small and cant touch the ground. Your legs dangle and you cant scoot closer to the table, and the backrest is so far back you cant use it for support, and the table comes up past your chest so your chin is amost in your plate and your dumb clumsy hands cant hold a big spoon or fork in a way that feels natural or elegant so you end up smearing shit EVERYWHERE and getting yapped at for having your elbows on the counter.

Reading people was interesting. Most people are condescending and plastic when you're small, and you can tell when they're being saccharine and fake, but you're told the polite thing is to believe what they say and be polite back. I used to try using big sentences on purpose just to het them to leave me alone. "What a pretty girl! Can you say Hello?" was the most common ask I can recall. Id answer with the floweriest thing I could think of, usually, "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you?", because people only ask you interesting questions after you do well enough on their tests to prove you're people.

Being small was very tiring, and very frustrating, and becoming aware of myself in my own head probably made everything a lot worse overall.

No regrets, though. From what I can recall, life is far more enjoyable when you're aware of it occurring. Time can't slow down until you know it's there, I think

Being a baby full of instincts felt like living as a live grenade. Being a child was far harder, but more Full. More Human. A LOT more like adulthood than infancy, and I was very determined to remember that.

If any of that makes sense

628 notes · View notes

faiszt · 4 months ago

Text

⠀⠀⭑⠀𝆬⠀⠀CLOSE ENOUGH:⠀✴⠀ r. cameron.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ minors do not interact.

PAIRING:⠀s2!rafe x stalker!reader.

†⠀⠀LISTEN TO:⠀close enough by ava morse.

wordcount: 3.7k⠀⠀|⠀⠀CONTAINS: ⠀ smut content. violent behavior. obsessive behavior. hard / strong language. drug mentions. kidnapping. face sitting. rough sex. slightly size kink. p in v. unprotected sex. dirty talk. face fucking & tits sucking.⠀ minors who interact with this will be blocked.

꒰ SILLY NOTES:⠀hi, sweets! i still don’t have a masterlist and stuff, i know, but i just really needed to write this. also, this is my first time writing a smut in my life, so... forgive me for any mistakes, i swear i'm trying and i’d be so happy if you could tell me what you think of it.⠀⠀⠀⠀(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) 💬 ♡

there were two perfect words to describe you from what rafe thought: kind and sweet. so sweet, the kind that made him stop and think ‘what hole did you crawl out of?’ well, in a honest answer, the hole you crawled out of was hell. this isn't a silly little joke, it's reality, your sweetness was the perfect counterpart to the kind of obsessive and insane devil you've become since the day you laid eyes on him.

it took rafe longer to figure this out than you had anticipated before starting this freak game between you.

if he needed someone lovely, you'd be her. if he needed someone gentle, you'd be her. but, if he needs someone as crazy and fucked up as he is? his lucky day, you were all of that without even having to hide it with cute clothes and a damsel in distress demeanor.

150 days that you knew him, 150 photos of him kept in the last drawer of your dresser, right under your panties like a stupid plan not very calculated, but existing. a photo a day that you wisely chose every time you followed him around like an abandoned puppy, finding out things about him and his life was part of the shameless fun.

and each time he accidentally noticed you, you acted as he expected you to act. a confused expression and a gentle smile, pretending you were doing anything that a weirdo would, acting like it was purely fate putting you in the same place as him. what kind of shitty fate was this? god could only be punishing you for putting you in each other's lives.

but, no siege was impossible to close, and eventually, the pieces fell right into place in his mind. too late, he was the little mouse that bit the cheese in the mousetrap.

not that his insanity had reached its limit—you were never any different from that—it was just something you wanted to do and felt he needed, given how much stress you'd watched him go through lately. it wasn't wrong, was it? it was just love, no matter how strange, violent, and intense.

just a little help, you wouldn't hurt him... you'd just show that you can take care of him as well as anyone else since no one would take care of him if not you. plus, in the meantime, he could taste his own medicine with someone just like him, or worse.

“what the...” his eyes opened with difficulty, a throbbing pain in his head and his body limp, tingling, almost struggling to move. a dimly lit room, definitely not his room, unless he had been drugged enough to forget how he got there—which was what it looked like. “that’s all i needed now.” rafe thought he was talking to himself.

until he notices you there, sitting in front of your desk, swinging your feet with only one side of the earphone in your left ear, scribbling something. how cute, he thought, not thinking really much about it and when he did, well, he knew he was so fucked.

hands tied to the headboard, he wouldn't even question how you managed to drag him there, but there he was, gagged on a girl's bed. he could kick you if you came near, if it weren't for the clear fact that you both knew he wouldn't do it, first 'cause he wasn't afraid of you, second 'cause he wanted to know how far you'd go.

honestly, if you didn't go all the way, he'd make you go all the way with him since you were the one who brought him here, you had to do something about it now.

“are you plannin’ to make me die here or just playin’ some insane weirdo game, princess?” he shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position—even though nothing felt comfortable when his wrists were gagged. he was just trying to get your attention. was it strange that he was finding this too interesting and appealing to simply want to run away?

you turned in your chair, taking the earphone out as you left your pencil on the table. his eyebrows slowly rose when he noticed you was you, the acting was good, he had to admit, not every girl who was into him would simply gag him in her bed like he was her own doll. it was confusing, arousing, a lot of things his mind was trying to think about.

“you looked stressed, i just wanted to make you relax.” you mumbled with a sweet, albeit fake, smile, still swinging your feet in the air. so handsome, you thought, watching him with his disheveled hair and looking so vulnerable to you. “are you relaxed, rafe? or you need me to help you again?” 'cause there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't do for him at this point.

your smile only made him let out a nasal laugh, looking away for a brief moment as he stared at the ceiling. “nice way to relax someone, huh?” he scoffed. “but, since you’re offering... i think i’d be more relaxed if you let my wrists go from that rope.” he tried to suggest, blue eyes looking at you again with a disguised pleading, as if he could actually convince you like that.

“you look better this way.” you grumbled, standing up and walking over to sit on the edge of your bed, his knee lightly brushing against you for a moment. “but, if you wanna leave, i’m not really stopping you. just say the word and we both pretend it never happened.”

“but, i don’t wanna pretend it didn't happen... and i don’t wanna leave either.” he wouldn't say it out loud, but secretly he thought you were kinda wimp. what? you just do all of it and brought him here to... well, nothing? no, no, he knew you could do better than that. “i want you to do what you wanna do, or have you bitten off more than you can chew? don’t tell me you’re that stupid, princess.”

for a man gagged in your bed, he sounded very confident and intimidating in every word. he wanted you to do it so badly, whatever the fuck you had in mind, 'cause it was turning him on to see you do this to him. “come on, you know you didn’t gagged me in your bed to let me leave.”

and, as expected, what he said had exactly the effect he wanted. in less than a minute, your legs were on either side of his hips, straddling him as he looked up at you with a smug little smirk, not caring about the darkness in your eyes. you looked hot like that, he didn't really care about the implications of fucking you without using his hands.

“you talk too much, cameron.”

“then, you should shut my mouth.”

the implication of his words had almost immediate consequences. you bent over him, hands on both sides of his head, pinning him even further into the mattress as you pressed your lips hard against his. there wasn't one percent of delicacy in that messy kiss, just hunger and desire and rafe noticed it, feeling his blood rush to his lower half.

he moaned softly against your lips as he returned the not-so-loving affection, letting your tongue invade his mouth as if he was completely at your mercy—and he, actually, was. not that rafe had ever agreed to be on the bottom very often, but if it ended with you riding him, then it was for a good cause.

when you had the urge to separate your lips from his, it was like being woken up from a trance, he didn't say anything and if his wrists weren't gagged, his hands would be saying something for him. he ran his tongue over his reddened lips, slightly swollen from the inner contact, as if he wanted to know if the remnants of your taste were still there.

“y’know,” rafe started talking after a few seconds, noticing how breathless you looked from just one kiss. it was kinda cute, he'd give you credit for that. “if i wasn’t gagged here, you’d already be face down in that pillow.” he said with such conviction that you had to roll your eyes, thrusting your hips down only to see his facade tremble at the small contact over your clothes.

“yeah, yeah, but you’re gagged and i’m on top.” you gave him a mocking smile, gently patting his cheek before grabbing his chin, making him look straight into your eyes. “and that’s a lose-lose, for you, not for me.”

“lose-lose? i don’t see it that way, sweetheart,” his blue eyes dropped downwards, indirectly giving you the message that it wasn't bad for him when you were the one straddling him in your bed on any given day. “i’m just wonderin’ when you’re actually gonna act beyond these boring little kisses and put that pussy to sit on somethin’.”

“you’re talking too much again, cameron.” you shook your head in disapproval, sighing deeply as you pretended to think about what you were going to do to him. “but, since you want me to do something and i want you to shut up...”

you let the words hang in the air as you got off his lap, standing in the corner taking off your shorts and panties quickly, but to rafe it looked more like you were doing it in slow motion. every second counted and he was already missing your weight against his lap.

kinda ironic... that he was so comfortable being gagged in the bed of a girl he must have seen less than five times in his life. but, rafe never thought straight and he wouldn't start doing that now. it was even pleasurable for him to know that you were obsessed with him to that point. you might have been in physical control, but you both knew better than that.

despite the tension, you were on top of him again. knees on the mattress, your hands holding onto the headboard, the best way to shut him up and he wasn't really complaining about it, in fact, this was exactly what he wanted from the moment he thought of the possibility. a devious smile formed on his lips, his tongue moistening them for a brief moment as you graced him with that sight. shit, he wanted to touch you so badly, but he'd have to do it only with his tongue for now.

his tongue slowly passed through your wet folds like a tease of power, you might be on top, but he had his share of power too and he'd make sure to remind you of that. “you taste so good, princess...” he smirked against your cunt, giving it a brief suck before running his tongue over it again, only to see your expression falter and a shiver run through your body. “like a fuckin’ lollipop, so sweet.”

you placed more of your weight on his face, closing your eyes gently as you rubbed your clit against the tip of his nose, feeling his tongue suck hungrily between your wet folds. “mmhm...” you allowed yourself to let out a moan, looking down as your hips rocked over his face, his blue eyes fixed on you, attentively wanting to see you break under the touch of his tongue. he didn't want to miss a single detail of it.

rafe's pants were tightening around his crotch, his thoughts were hazy and he could only think of one thing: you and the dirty little noises that escaped your throat. he wanted to hear each of those and he wanted to be the reason for them. no one else, just him and he hoped you had used your weird obsessive behavior to understand that he was possessive as hell.

but, you were going far, he could feel it, pressing yourself harder and harder against his face and suddenly, the sound of the rope coming loose. your eyes opened in confusion, still numb from the brief pleasure he gave you, only for you to notice his hands loose from the rope, his wrists not even red. “what...? how?” you whispered, looking between his wrists and his face between your legs.

then, he pushed you back, not too hard, just enough to make you fall back onto the mattress and get off of him. “y’know... you’re bad at tying ropes, really bad,” he grumbled, sitting down on the bed before using one of his hands to pull you closer, climbing on top of you with an even more sinister smirk than before. “but, that’s good, it means i can touch that pretty little body of yours now.”

rafe didn't want to wait for you to have any reaction to that, he already waited for too long pretending to really be gagged in your bed, he didn't give a damn if he should've waited a little longer, he got what he wanted.

he pinned you against him and the mattress, crashing his lips against yours as he kissed you violently, as if he was trying to mark you or, maybe, he just really wanted to mark you. his tongue didn't ask for entry, it just invaded your mouth, making you feel your own taste, exactly as he wanted.

“did you like to taste your own sweetness, baby?” he whispered against your lips, sucking your bottom lip before kissing you again. “guess i have to take care of you now, don’t i? you’ve been following me around like a good puppy... i think you deserve a reward.” he pulled away from your face a little, only for his hands to go towards your shirt, pulling it over your head.

on a normal day, he'd take more of his time with you, but not today. today he was a little too eager for this, today you wouldn't go unnoticed by him.

“so sweet...” his fingers caressed your belly before he moved his lips down your neck, making sure to press wet kisses against it before moving down a little further and lightly biting your collarbone. you heard the sound of one of his hands going down to his pants, undoing his belt without any difficulty, as if he had done it many times before, and he did.

pants and boxers on the floor, he was hovering over you with an expression of hunger and desire, one of his fingers running over your cunt, he wanted to feel with his fingers how wet and ready for him you were. he patted your thigh, a warning for you to open it wider for him. you looked so pretty like that that he even felt like sucking you again. but, no, this time he wanted to make you feel everything.

rafe bent over you again, lips against yours, a cheap deception only for him to thrust his fully hard cock inside you. you opened your legs wider in shock, but you didn't push him away, you just moaned painfully against the sudden impact and he liked it, he really liked the way you lost your composure when he had no mercy on your tight little pussy.

no niceties or "just the tip", you were a weirdo who stalked him and he'd give you exactly what you wanted when you drugged him and took him to your bed. the kind of fuck that would leave you sore for days, and when you forgot about the pain, then he'd fuck you again... and again... and again.

he lifted your body a little, holding your legs as he slammed relentlessly inside your tight cunt, his cock was having trouble getting all the way inside you, but he didn't really care, he'd make it fit. “what happened to all that attitude, pretty girl? where did that "lose-lose" go?” he went deeper, making you sink into the mattress as you tried to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape your mouth.

“no, no holdin’ back your little noises, i wanna hear ‘em all.” he roared, his hand letting go of one of your legs as he held your chin firmly. “and eyes on me. if you close them or hold back your moans, i’ll stop and you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

you couldn't say a single word, you just nodded, agreeing with what he was saying, even though you didn't know how long you could keep your eyes open. “good girl.” he released your chin, his hand trailing down your neck and collarbone until he reached your bra.

just fucking you could be enough, but it wasn't, not for a greedy man like him. he wanted more and your tits looked so inviting to his eyes, he wanted everything he could get of you. everyone knew, if he wanted it, he could get it. so, he didn't ask, he just pulled one of your tits out of the bra. his fingers pinching your swollen nipple and circling it as he stared at you, wondering if this would make you go further over the edge or not.

him being too big for you was already something, but rafe knew perfectly where to push your buttons and he'd make you tremble without needing much, he wanted to break you so you'd know better before you thought you could leave him in a position like that. your legs locked around his waist, just so he could go balls deep, feeling you squeezing him tighter and tighter as your tight walls clenched in pleasure.

“mmgmh, rafe, fuck...” you whimpered, biting your bottom lip hard as you looked down to see his rhythm. thrusts so rough that the bed began to creak and he had no intention of being discreet about how good and hard he was fucking that sweet pussy of yours. “rafe... i need to... i need to come...”

a mocking laugh came out of him as he slowly thrust inside you again, really much slower than before, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. “yeah, princess? you wanna come that fast? this pretty little cunt can’t handle such a big cock, can it?” he continued with the slow thrusts, like a tease that he was really enjoying doing.

“but, it’s okay... i said i’d take care of you.” rafe whispered, leaning over you again, his tongue flicking over your nipple that he had been pinching moments before. “then, come for me, princess, come while i suck your tit.”

his thrusts gradually increased again, making you see stars as he sucked on your nipple hungrily, his eyes flicking up to see your expression of pleasure. your loud moans and whimpers were music to his ears, like fuel that only motivated him to go deeper.

and when you got to the edge, by god, you squeezed him so hard and moaned like you were in heaven; and he enjoyed every second of it, pressing himself against you as he felt your legs tremble for him. “you did so well for me...” he licked your nipple once more before moving kisses up to your neck. “but, we still have one thing before we finish... and you’re gonna be a good girl and do it.”

“what? what’s left?” you mumbled, tired and breathless, your legs still shaking as he grabbed your body and made you sit on the bed. not understanding what he meant when you noticed him standing up, right next to you.

“come here ’n open your mouth, i’ll show you.” it wasn't a request, it almost sounded like an order, if you didn't do it he’d make you do it anyway. “open wide.” he said again as you sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of him. one of his hands gripped the back of your head, while the other gripped his still hardened length, positioning it in front of your lips.

your eyes widened a little, but you looked up to meet rafe's gaze and he looked very confident about what he was doing. “no hands, i just need your little mouth, pretty girl.” he definitely wasn't expecting you to nod, he just shoved his cock into your mouth and waited for you to do what he wanted. “mmh, yeah, just like that...” he smirked, satisfied with your work, moving his hips back and forth, not caring if you could handle everything he put inside that sweet mouth.

he, in turn, didn't need much either, you had already given enough of a show for him to feel his balls full, he just needed a little more, your lips around his cock would solve the problem. “that got you so far, didn’t it? this stalker thing, you’re exactly where you wanna be, aren’t you? with my cock hitting your throat, so pretty.” he moaned, using his dirty words to motivate you to swallow him all the way down.

his moans started to become more frequent, he stopped moving his hips, using your head as if you were a doll, back and forth quickly, choking you, he was slowly reaching his limit and the sight really helped with that.

rafe knew he wouldn't last longer than that, he was exhausted, panting, letting out long gasps every time he sank the tip of his cock into your throat. he needed to come. so, he did it. “stay there... that’s it... stop.” he gasped once more, thrusting himself deep into the wet heat of your mouth, his length twitching as he began to spurt hot streams into the back of your throat. “fuck... fuck... mhmm.”

he didn't move his head, not until he was one hundred percent satisfied, not until you had swallowed every little drop of him.

and when it was over, you were a complete mess, falling back on your bed, dealing with the intense aftermath of what rafe gave you. he joined you at your side, as breathless as you were, not regretting a single microsecond of what had happened between you. “next time you wanna do this, remember to tie me tightly to the headboard, princess,” he suggested, lying on his back to face the ceiling like you. “just call me and i’ll bring the rope.”

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox, you'll be welcome. ꒰ ˶> ˕ <˶ ꒱ ♡

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danisbrainrot · 4 months ago

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shauna shipman x reader a/n: minor season three spoilers, angst and unhinged shauna ahead. NSFW (it's smut because shauna this season is making me feel things). afab reader.

you watched shauna storm off, refusing to participate in whatever crazy shit the group was making you do now. you felt bad because nat had been trying to boost morale, and van had worked hard on coming up with unique to entertain the group, but you understood why she wouldn't stay around. ever since losing the baby, everyone treated her differently—like she was a tightly wound coil about to snap.

they weren't wrong; you had seen her in a rage scribbling so fast in her diary, almost setting it fire. you often watched the way she tormented mari, and shauna could be cruel. however, there was something so tragic about her that called out to you.

losing her best friend, her baby, and then javi in quick succession would cause even the sanest of people to snap, but shauna's rage simmered quietly until she unleashed it on others. everyone feared her, but you. . . you were drawn to her.

excusing yourself, you left the circle and followed shauna. everyone else, too distracted to notice, didn't see you leave.

you found shauna kneeling at her baby's grave, whispering something unintelligible. you crept closer to eavesdrop, only to snap on a branch. her head snaps up, and she locks eyes with you. it's quiet for a moment as she eyes you up and down—a shiver ran up your spine. out of delight or fear, you didn't know. perhaps both.

quicker than the blink of an eye, shauna pressed a knife to your neck. "what are you doing here?" she hissed, holding you against a tree.

you struggled to form a response, shamelessly excited by the sharp blade digging into your neck. "i was just checking up on you, shauna," you promise.

"are you here for my baby? i won't let you anywhere near him," she snapped, her face inches from yours—you could feel her hot breath on your face.

"no, i'm not here for him. i'm here for you, shauna. i noticed you left the circle—"

"i don't want to listen to a bunch of dumbasses talk about how my best friend and baby needed to die," she spat, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. if this was anyone else, they'd be terrified—but you felt something different. pity. shauna resembled a scared animal backed into a corner.

so, going against your common sense, you leant forward—showing you weren't scared of her—and smashed your lips against hers. you pull back instantly, trying to gauge her reaction.

she was frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes—gorgeous brown eyes that had hardened after the crash. the same eyes that you'd become smitten with ever since you tried out for the soccer squad.

a panic shot through you as you realised how dumb your mistake was. she just stared at you, her anger-filled eyes fading and revealing the truth—vulnerability.

shauna's lips were on yours again. they were hungry and demanding. her hands gripped your cheeks tightly as she devoured your mouth, pressing her body up against yours to keep you in place. you rest your hands on her waist, trying to ground her.

the bark was rough against your back, the thin material of your shirt doing nothing to stop it from scratching you. you tried to readjust into a more comfortable position, but shauna wasn't letting you move. instead, she pulled away and almost ripped your shirt off. you gasped softly, receiving an eyebrow raise from shauna—almost like she was asking you if you had a problem with how rough she was.

"strip," she barked. you immediately followed her commands, pulling your shorts to your ankles and stepping out of them, placing them next to your discarded shirt. shauna pulled her butterfly shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere on the floor and unbuckled her belt. "naked."

hesitantly, you reached behind and unhooked your bra. "have you done this before?" you question, pulling the straps down and finally exposing your boobs.

shauna stared hungrily at your chest, her eyes unmoving as she shook her head. "i've had sex, just not with a woman," she replied. her eyes finally met yours, "shouldn't be that hard to learn."

you were about to scoff when she recaptured your lips. it was a messy kiss, full of teeth and tongue as shauna unleashed her pent up anger on you. she squeezed your boobs, groping them like a horny teenage boy.

her knee pressed against your heat, revealing your dripping heat. she pulled away, yanking your panties down to your ankles before running a single finger through your slick. holding her finger to your face, she smirked at you, "i held a knife to your throat."

"it was hot," you shrugged. shauna growled, taking your lips into hers again. this kiss wasn't any nicer—but you wouldn't have it any other way. you wanted her passion. her anger. her hunger. shauna bit down on your bottom lip, causing you to moan and allowing her to shove her tongue down your throat.

her knee was pressed against your core but didn't move, while her hands rested on your boobs. you were seconds away from whining and begging her to do something when she pinched your left nipple. you gasp violently, and something dark stirs in her eyes. shauna's lips move to your throat, biting down on the pulse points before licking them better. all the while, her hands twisted and pinched your nipples deliciously.

"this is how i've always liked it," she mumbled against your neck, "rough," she made her way to your clavicle, shoving you higher up the tree with her knee and leaving marks on your collarbone. "jeff never wanted to hurt me. never wanted to leave evidence for jackie to find," she sneered. "but when i'm done with you, everyone will know what happened."

one hand remains, rough handling one of your nipples, while the other trails down your sternum. the lower her finger went, the more chills rushed up your spine. shauna placed a few more marks on your clavicle, then your chest before she pulled away to watch her finger tease you. she went agonisingly slow; her finger circled your belly button before it followed your snail trail down to your bush.

you gripped onto her shoulders to ground you. she made eye contact with you, delighting in how much pleasure you were getting from this, and she hadn't even touched your most sensitive area yet.

when she finally touched your clit, she remembered how she touched her own and swirled it delicately to begin with. you were incredibly wet, so she felt comfortable picking up her pace. your breathing quickened, a soft moan slipped from your lips, but that wasn't enough for her. she wanted to see you squirm. she wanted to hear you scream for her.

she traced your slit with her finger, as you mourned the loss of contact with your clit. without warning, she slipped her middle finger into your pussy—eliciting a gasp from you. "shauna," you whispered, feeling her pump it deliciously. your wetness made it to easy, so she added another one almost immediately. "curl them," you begged, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, pausing her ministrations as she worked out how to curl them. "you. . . you still move," you bit your lip, watching her glare at you.

"i know. i'm working it out, shut up," she hissed. her pace quickened, as she took your advice. you moans were no longer soft, gaining volume the faster she went. shauna picked up a rhythm, rocking you against the tree—but you were too blissed out to feel the pain of the bark scratching your back.

her thumb circled your clit, while she continued to pump two fingers in your pussy. she struggled at first, trying to grope your boob, finger your and play with your clit—it appeared to be too much for her inexperienced self—but eventually got the hang of it. you were in bliss, getting perfectly fucked by shauna, you felt bad for not returning the favour.

a burning sensation in your stomach began to soar, as shauna brought you closer to the edge. you could feel your orgasm was swiftly approaching. "shauna, holy shit. i'm so close, i'm almost there," you moaned. her pace quickened again, as shauna began violently fingering you. any pain was replaced by pleasure as you screamed her name. shauna suddenly realised how close everyone else was and didn't want this to end, and pressed her lips against yours to shut you up.

it wasn't until shauna put her mouth back on yours that you felt your orgasm come over you in waves. you moaned in to her mouth, as she fingered you through your orgasm. you panted as she finally pulled away, pressing her forehead against yours. "my turn," she growled.

you dropped to your knees, hooking your finger around her panties and ensuring you maintained eye contact with shauna as you pulled them down.

unable to wait any longer, eager to please her, you pressed your nose against her bush and inhaled her sex. tentatively, you kitten licked her clit—her hand roughly grabbed the back of your head and shoved your face into her pussy. needing no more instruction, you laved at her clit. she grunted softly, as your licks treasured her sensitive nub. you weren't satisfied with the noise she was making, however, and decided to draw moans out of her another way.

clutching her love handles, your nose nudged at her clit as you licked strips of her slit. your tongue dipped, causing a loud moan to erupt from her. shauna covered her mouth with her elbow, looking down at you fiercely. the grip on the back of your head tightened as she rocked her hips against you.

you ate her out like a starving woman, and she was your last meal. if this was winter, she might have been. but thankfully it was springtime.

shauna was close, you could tell. her hips rocked erratically as you began frantically eating her out. your nose rubbing against her clit was the final straw. shauna let out the loudest moan you'd heard as she came.

you lapped up her juices, eating her out through her orgasm before cleaning her up. when you finally pulled away, you looked up at her through your eyelashes and smirked at her face. shauna stared down at you and smiled—the first genuine smile you'd seen from her in a long time. it was a ghost of a smile, but it was still there.

"i think you should hold a knife to my throat more often," you joked.

"you should move in to my tent. . . in case i ever need to blow off some steam," she mumbled.

"okay, but i'm a big spoon—"

"i'm not spooning you," she snapped.

you raised your hand in surrender, "whatever you say, shauna." you smirked, knowing she'd crack, eventually.

#shauna shipman #yellowjackets #wlw #shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets smut #smut #shauna shipman smut #fanfic #wlw smut #slight angst #danisbrainrot #yellowjackets season 3 #shauna x reader #dani's fics <3

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pricetagged · 7 months ago

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Idk how to label this. Wifehunter John?

The idea of possessive/obsessive John manipulating a situation and stealing a wife for himself struck me, so just coughing the idea up while I sneak away for a coffee before I actually have to start work in 20 mins 💖 entirely unedited, abrupt ending

Masterlist l Part Two

________

For someone married to his job, he has put quite a bit of thought into what he is looking for in a wife. Namely, that she's already married.

His reasoning is threefold. He can admit to himself, firstly, that it satisfies his need for control. Competency. He's a busy man with a demanding job. Not quite retired yet, no time to build his own from scratch. With this, he gets a wife boxed up and ready-trained. Broken in.

Secondly, the need for control bleeds into his saviour complex. She'll need a shoulder to cry on, someone strong and capable to get her back on her feet. She'll be feeling a little fragile. Needy. Perfect.

And thirdly, it does something wild to his jealous, possessive streak. The idea of taking something precious, of breaking her bond to another man and tying it to him? Delicious. The idea that she used to be someone else's, that he has to imprint himself onto her knowing that in doing so he is erasing the imprint of another man? It has his teeth aching, grinding even as heat rises in his belly. Stirs at him.

The idea swirls lazily in the back of his mind, never quite finding the right time or right partner. He bats at it a few times, lazy cat playing with the notion, seeing how far it can stretch before it snaps. Eyes up pretty things everywhere he goes, glancing down at their left hands just to check, but nothing quite tugs on that string. Until one day it does when he's outfitting the security system at your house.

It's side work. Cash in hand, word of mouth. Something to keep him busy when on mandated leave. Something to keep in mind as his retirement from active duty creeps closer. And your husband is a real piece of work, all blustering braggadocio energy. Young buck, not knowing his place in the herd. Not knowing that he'd be better scratching his antlers off on a tree than going head-to-head with a gristled thing like John.

It's like John's energy, his presence in the house, sends alarm bells ringing in your husband's mind (Be the man. Don't back down. Puff up your chest and strut). And it plays so perfectly into John's hands because your young buck doesn't realise that what he's really doing is fawning. To John. (Look at me, be impressed by me!) He makes his biggest mistake in putting you down in front of him, trying to sidle up to John and create some kind of desperate camaraderie. Ordering you to bring tea to the men at work. Rolling his eyes at your attempts to talk, to ask questions about the work being done. Waving you off so he can stand and watch the proceedings. Like he could supervise. Like he has any clue what he's doing.

Only the promise of the long game keeps John from levelling him with a hard look, from calling him outblike he'd love to.

He hears you both in the in the other room, having swatted the young buck off like a particularly virulent pest. Noisy and bothersome. Not needed - or wanted- in this home. And entirely too stupid to realise that John wasn't being jocular in his dismissal.

You've been scribbling away for the past few days, something occupying your time, keeping you happy and hidden away in the kitchen.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Well, yes," he hears the slight quaver in your voice before you find your footing. You've got at least a bit of spine. Good. "You said that I should find an occupation. Not just 'laze around the house playing housewife'. This is what I-"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean- You don't think that this is viable, do you?"

"Well... I love gardening. And I'm good at it. And there's no reason that it can't be more accessible for people, especially with the current economic-"

He cuts you off with a scoff. "Dear, just- I don't want you to be disappointed. I think you don't quite understand the time and effort this will take. And you know nothing of marketing, publishing. Why don't you put that away and start on dinner?"

And oh, isn't that delicious. He can taste it now, that idea that has been swirling. It's thick, almost tangible on his tongue. The tension in the house, the bitter lacryma of stifled tears. The slight acidity of words you left unsaid. It has his mouth watering, pupils dilating.

And when he's packing up that evening, tools and materials tucked in to the heavy workman's case, he swings by the kitchen on his way out. Catches the way something is jutting out slightly from the bin, lid slightly askew. When he pulls it out he realises it's some kind of notebook, carefully (lovingly) bound. Pictures pasted, mindmaps and notes and plans scribbled in the margins. Your gardening tips. Kitchen scraps, window boxes, rooftop plots. Urban gardening. It's deeply thoughtful, well researched.

A labour of love, lying in the rubbish.

Sweet, clever little thing. That just won't do.

He leaves your house with a little piece of you tucked away in his toolkit and a nice plan forming. He'll be back, of course, not quite finished with his work. He'd planted a few little links into the system he'd almost installed, projecting not just to the monitor in your home but also in his. Got to keep his eyes on you, keep you safe and cared for in ways that your useless husband can't.

Finding that book was a boon. He'd say it was divinely ordained if he believed in all that. It weighs heavy in his toolbox as he whistles out the door.

Now, how to get you alone and return it to you..

________________

This idea may have been done before? I'm not sure, sorry! I've seen a lot of possessive John floating around. Tagging @stellewriites because I said I would last time, and you've been so encouraging of my nonsense.

Anyway I've got like 4 long-form WIPs that I'm working on, so I may never actually write this one but thought I'd share since that image set I just reblogged made me feral 💖

#im so tired and its cold dont judge me this friday morning #yeah like i p much only focus on fics and long form but maybe i should post more drabbly things #bc i have so many ideas and so little time #like ideally everything would be at least 10k and beautifully written #but ive only managed 2 long fics and 2 2-3k word snapshots since i joined the fandom in autumn #so yeah anyway here is my man being a possessive unhinged creep #captain john price #john price/reader #john price x reader #john price #cod imagine #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #báirseach writes

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changisworld · 1 year ago

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“just try it”

fuckboy!hyunjin x reader

Word count;7,023

Summary: you’re known as quite a timid & closed off person in your college class, the one who studies 24/7 & doesn’t have much interest/ confidence in order to enjoy the usual college life, including having sex. You get partnered up for a project with the known fuckboy of the campus, hyunjin.

MDNI, 18+ only, smut warnings under the cut

main masterlist here

part 2 here

SMUT WARNINGS: Virginity loss (f rec), slight coercion, kinda manipulative hyune, fingering(f rec). oral (both rec), piv, multiple orgasms, slight needy hyune, slight body worship, nipple sucking, light marking(scratching, hickey), corruption???, mention of blood( It's extremely brief) kinda angsty ending??

"Hyunjin, for the presentation you can go with... y/n!" your lecturer says after scanning the room & you freeze as she says this, making you want the ground to swallow you on the spot. You know Hyunjin & you haven't got a good opinion on him whatsoever.

You give a faint, displeased smile to your teacher before she moves onto sort out other groups for the project & a minute later, the chair beside you is moved & your new partner is now sitting next to you.

"heya, glad to be your partner, don't worry, I'll actually pull my weight sweetie so you won't be doing it on your own." he says with a faint smile, resting his head on his hand as he looks at you.

You stare at him as he says this, honestly in disbelief. You know he is just trying to piss you off as he has asked you to do an essay for him, leaving you with all his notes before running off, not allowing you to even say no. "I don't want you to help me, you'll make us fail. I'll just do it." you say, venom in your voice & hyunjin 'tuts' at this.

"Cmonnn y/n, don't be silly, i'd love to help! You can come to my place at the end of today & we can start." he says as he rips the corner of the piece of paper you were writing on & writing his address on it before sliding it to you & then standing up & resting his hands on the back of your chair as he leans down to you. "See ya later."

He leaves the classroom as the bell goes & you groan, scrunching up the paper he scribbled on & shoving it into your jacket pocket before also leaving.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You spend your lunchtime in the library, starting a few rough drafts so you can get a better idea of what you want to say as you present, taking the extra couple of minutes to write Hyunjins parts too. You have your headphones on & you're quite honestly in your own little bubble but as you look u from the computer to open your drink, you notice the same annoying guy from earlier, sitting across from you, looking at his phone, not paying you any mind.

"Can I help you?" you question, staring at him with an annoyed lookon your face. "Actually, you can. Stop working without me, I want to help." he responds back, not looking up from his phone as he texts someone. You scoff & roll your eyes as you swivel around in your spinny chair, looking right at him.

"I don't feel like failing because you do jack shit. Just go n i'll do it myself, go admire yourself in the mirror or something & leave me alone." you respond again before turning back to your computer but a second later your chair is being pulled by him so you're facing him again, his phone now on the desk.

"Stop being so weird y/n, I want to pass as much as you do so stop being so stingy. Move, I wanna see what you've wrote." he flashes you a closed mouth smile before lightly pushing your chair, allowing him to now have space for him to also sit. You groan before standing up. "Just take my seat Hyunjin, I'm leaving." You push your seat towards him & begin to leave but you feel him swing his arm out & hook around your waist before pulling you.. onto his lap.

"You're so hard to please, you like this with everyone n everything hm?" he questions as he begins reading what you've written down, grabbing the keyboard & beginning to tweak a few things.

You hate to admit it & glad there are no mirrors anywhere so you don't have to allow yourself to see how much you're blushing. You can't think of anything to say so you just sigh as you watch him type, his arm still around your lower half, him paying no mind to it as he pulls his airpods out & handing you one as he uses the other as he puts a random playlist of his on, your own headphones around your shoulders.

You both stay like this, you being too shy to move & he just simply not caring, he asks for your opinion on certain parts as he types out your opinions.

A minute or so later, you both hear footsteps entering the library but you both don't pay attention, up until the footsteps stop right in front of you, the footsteps belonging to another girl in your class, Lisa. You give her a small smile, trying to be polite despite not really being friends but she ignores you as she pulls Hyunjins airpod out & he flips his head around before looking up at her.

"Ah, hiya Lisa, you alright?" he asks as he now realises the perfume you're wearing, which he likes. "Yup. Wha'cha doing? I thought we were going for lunch together at that new cafe I saw, y/n keeping you prisoner? You're more than capable to do this without Hyunjin today, right? Can you stand up n Jinnie cmon." Lisa replies, trying to sound as if she is joking around but it's obvious she's pissed.

Her words make you remember that you're still sitting on Hyunjins lap & you instantly shoot up but his arm stops you, forcing you back onto him. "Ahh Lisa totally forgot, y/n is helping me get that A so i'm gonna stay, go with Chan or something, I'm busy." he responds, turning the chair you're both sitting on so you're both now facing the computer as he begins typing again.

Lisa scoffs as she has her eyes burning into the back of your head before she slams his airpod back down on the desk & walking out, her paying no mind to the stares from annoyed students she is receiving. "Bitch almost broke my airpod into damn pieces." he murmurs as he reaches out & takes it back & puts it in his ear, not mentioning anything else, which makes you curious.

"Why is she so upset? You can go with her Hyunjin I can really do this on my own." you question, reaching forward to pull your notepad towards you, swatting his hands off the keyboard as you start copying what you've wrote on paper, onto the document. "She's pissed because me n her have been fucking n she can't handle me talking to any other pretty girl. Me n her are nothing so don't stress pretty, I'm available." he jokes as he leans back to let you type & you scoff.

"How can you be fucking her yet you claim to be nothing with her? You're playing with her feelings, it's sad." you respond, annoyance in your tone & Hyunjin just sighs. "I've got a big dick n I like to use it. You'd fuck her too if you had a dick, she's good at sucking it, believe me. She said she wouldn't catch feelings but here we are. I'm tryna pawn her off to Seungmin or Chan but she doesn't take the hint." he says, nonchalantly as his fingers fiddle with the bottom of your shirt, simply twiddling it in between his fingers.

"Why you interested anyway, It's casual sex. Don't you relate? I know you don't party or anything since i woulda seen your pretty face from anywhere but don't you ever hook up with anyone?" He questions, leaning forward as he rests his chin on your shoulder, not failing to miss how you tense up as he does so. You don't respond to him, which give him his answer.

"Ohhh, you a virgin or something? How does someone who looks like you not get around?" he teases, wiggling from side to side in the chair, making you wiggle on him as you huff. "Shut up Hyunjin, oh my god. I just.. have better things to do? I have better things to focus on." you murmur back, cheeks going red again but this time out of embarrassment. He chuckles before letting the subject go, not wanting to pry too much.

You type for a minute or so more as he helps you reword it, suggesting some ideas which actually aren't stupid. This goes on for a few minutes until you hit a stump & both can't agree on what to do. "Just come to mines later, mkay? I know you've kept the paper, Sorry to be the one to break the bad news but I've got to go see someone, so you're gonna need to get off my lap." he says, patting your leg & you shoot up, remembering where you both are & being reminded again you are siting on thee Hyunjins lap.

He packs his stuff up before ruffling his hair up & then walks past you, taking his airpod out of your ear & also your headphones off your shoulders at the same time. You turn around to protest but he speaks before you can get any words out. "I'll take these with me so you have to come later, unless you wanna buy another pair of course, see ya later pretty." he skips away, your teeth clenched & eyebrows frowned as you watch him.

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You reach his apartment later that night after going home to get dressed, now wearing sweatpants & a plain grey tee & you stand at the front door for a minute, trying to talk yourself into knocking on the door but also to try calm your nerves. 'why am I so fucking nervous?' you keep asking yourself. Before you can act on anything however, you feel a tap on your back & it's obviously hyunjin, staring back at you, before moving forward to unlock his door, as he does this you realise the faint smell of a sweet smelling perfume, which makes you roll your eyes.

"You coming in then?" he questions as he kicks off his own shoes, arm still holding the door open for you & you sigh before stepping in, also taking off your shoes.

You follow Hyunjin into his bedroom out of all places as he takes your bag off your back & throws it onto his bed, you take a seat on his desk chair, spinning from side to side as you sit on top of your hands. "Why can't we study in your kitchen hmm? or livingroom?" you question & he flops onto his bed before digging through your bag to grab your books. "My wifi connection is shit everywhere except for my bedroom & bathroom for some reason so unless you wanna spend even longer with me than you want, not that I'd mind, by the way, we gotta do it here." he says, not bothering to look up at you as he grabs a few highlighters & pens from your pencil case, taking the extra few seconds to have a quick dig through the rest of your bag before putting it on the floor.

You scoff as you stand up off the chair & settle down on his bed beside him after realising it will be almost impossible for you to both sit at his desk due to the size of it & the random clutter all over it.

You both begin figuring out what the hell you both need to include for your exam, Hyunjin obviously still randomly trying to flirt with you but you just ignore it. You both actually start making progress, both of you lying on your stomachs across from one another as the mixture of scrap paper, books & laptop is in between the both of you as you both balance yourselves on your elbows.

Every time you both have a quick discussion, however, you can't help but notice how much his eyes wander to the opening of your shirt, showing the top part of your chest, you try to ignore it but you can't help but get a bit flustered by it, which he realises so he doesn't have the shame to stop. "Can you stop trying to stare at my tits? You aren't even being discreet." you scoff, trying to sound stern but your voice pitch raises at the end regardless.

"Can't help it. You're hot n if it's right in front of me, you can't blame me, silly." he quickly responds, nibbling on the end of your pen. "You're such a man slut, you have another girls perfume on you yet you can't contain yourself around someone else not even two hours later, you gross me out." you snap back, reaching out to snatch the now slightly chewed pen from between his pretty lips & wiping it on him before dropping it on the bed.

"Only have the perfume smell because Lisa knew I was gonna be with you later, you jealous or something y/nnnn?" he snarks, reaching out to boop your nose, watching as the tip of your ears go bright red. "Jealous? Don't make me laugh, Hyunjin. I don't care what you n her have going on, believe me." You break eye contact with him, getting flustered from the conversation happening. "Cmonnn, y/n, if you wanna fuck, just say that." he half jokes, picking up the pen again before fiddling it in his hand.

You laugh at his words, honestly not even surprised at what he is saying. "You're so cocky, god. I'd genuinely, rather die." you spit, eyebrows frowned, which makes him hum. "So, you're telling me, If i was to kiss you, you'd actually push me off you?" he queries, pushing the paper & books to the side, nothing separating the two of you anymore.

You open your mouth to mostly yell at him for even saying something so dumb but you don't get any words out as he puts his hand behind your head & leans forward before connecting his lips against yours. You freeze under the touch, not even really knowing what to do since you've never actually kissed anyone either, but you can't help but take notice of how soft his lips are & how they move in a perfect rhythm.

He breaks his lips off yours a few seconds later, but doesn't leave your space, your lips centimetres apart. He again realises how much he is blushing & you hate how composed he looks. "Y/n." he says, in a lower voice. "mhmm?" you instantly reply, your heart racing. "Was that your first kiss?" he questions, the hand behind your head now playing with your hair.

You embarrassingly nod your head & he just smiles. "Well, since we are here, we can redo it, if you want. No pressure." he responds, his voice now sounding more soft. You mentally contemplate for a split second before nodding. "just follow my lead alright, it's easy." he says before leaning back in & kissing you again.

You move your lips against his, remembering to relax your lips so it feels easier & better for Hyunjin. You subconsciously lift your hand to rest it against his cheek but as you do this, he leans further forward & pushes into you with his bodyweight, making it so you are now laying on your back & you can't help but feel your underwear dampen, which gives you even more butterflies.

He moves the hand that was resting on the back of your head & rests it on your cheek instead, caressing it with his thumb as his other hand now rests on your lower stomach before his fingers begin playing with the hem of your shirt & you move your own hand & rest it on top of his that is playing with your shirt.

He keeps the pace of the kiss slow, keeping it enjoyable for the both of you but he can almost hear your heartbeat going at a million miles per hour as he teases you by biting your bottom lip, which makes you let out a small whimper which instantly sends blood to his cock.

You somehow forget to breathe & as he breaks the kiss for the second time, you're breathing a lot heavier as your cheeks are on fire due to how much you're blushing.

"There's no way that was your first kiss, you're so good at it." he remarks, biting his own bottom lip, which you can't help but find extremely hot. His fingers now dig themselves under your shirt, his finger now lightly scratching & caressing the skin of your stomach, making your back arch slightly.

"It was my first time.. I swear." you say back, your voice sounding more blown out & airy than you wanted. "Well, if you want, we can go further. I've already been your first in one thing & I'd be able to actually show you how to feel good.. for your future partners, of course." he says, his voice sounding low again, his fingers not stopping their actions as he still caresses your skin.

"I- that's a huge thing Hyunjin, I want my first time to be with someone who I really care about." you basically whisper back, your nerves making you want to almost vomit, he pouts at your response. "heyyy, I can show you absolutely everything you'll ever need, I'd look after you so well, make you feel amazing, if you'll let me. I know you care for me even a little bit since you've been blushing every time we have spoken today. Not to mention, I've never had a bad review." he responds, elongating the last word to try get his point across.

As he says this, he leans further down & rubs his nose against yours while giving a faint smile, before leaning down & nuzzling his face into your neck , inhaling your sweet vanilla perfume before nibbling on your neck. "I promise. pleaseee.?" he whispers in your ear, his fingers now crawling further up your frame, resting just beneath your tits, which makes your breath hitch. You think for a second, your hand reaching up to caress his long soft hair as you nod your head before mumbling an 'okay' & you can feel him smile against your neck.

He sets himself back up on his elbows, giving you a warm look before leaning back, kissing you again as his fingers now reach up & cup your right tit, to his surprise you're not wearing a bra, which makes him hum. "No bra? Did you expect this, y/n?" he asks, smirk not leaving his face as he starts to brush his fingers over your nipple, making you squirm beneath him. "They're just uncomfortable." you reply, making him chuckle before kissing you again.

He wraps two fingers around your nipple before twiddling it between them, tugging it lightly every once in a while, liking the reactions you give him as he does so, letting small noises escape your lips & get swallowed by him.

This continues for a minute or so before he moves his lips from yours & moves to your jawline, slowly littering kisses down it before moving down to your neck as he removes his hand from your tit to lift your shirt up but you stop him as you sit up & take your shirt completely off, surprising yourself with the random outburst of confidence.

His eyes light up at the sight, your tits being some of, if not the best pair he has ever saw. He smirks at your face, you giving him a faint smile, your eyes filled with lust as you are convinced your panties are now soaked more than they already are. "so pretty, can I taste them?" he asks as he lays down & pulls you so you're now straddling him, your ass now being able to feel his thick hard on.

You nod & he wastes no time at all before pushing on your back, your tits now right above his face before he looks up at you, smiling before he latches his pretty plump lips on your nipple as his fingers begin playing with the other one again & you can't control the yelp you let out at the feeling. You throw your head back as your fingers weave their way through his hair as you lightly tug on it, making him release a few low groans as he continues suckling, spit leaving his lips & wetting your boobs.

You can't help but begin grinding against him, the sucking noises & your light whimpers filling the room. He switches to the opposite nipple & at the same time, his hand comes to rest on your ass, caressing it & squeezing the flesh, making you arch your back, wanting more.

"Hyune- more, please." you say, swallowing your pride & asking the man beneath you to give you what you now want. He unlatches himself & you look down at him, his lips & chin shiny with his own spit as he helps you grind against him. "Well what is it you want y/n hmm? You're gonna need to tell me if you want anything since I don't know what you can handle, silly." he replies, smirking at you as he wriggles his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants as he now grinds into you too.

"I- fingers or something, please?" you whine, leaning forward to hide your face in the side of his neck, hiding the embarrassment on your face. Despite you not being able to see it, he is smirking as he helps move you so you are laying on your back again & your legs automatically part, your feet planted on the bed as he settles between them, sitting on his legs as he takes his hoodie off, revealing his gorgeous body which you can't take your eyes off of.

"Just giving you a bigger view with a view." he remarks which makes you snap out of it, chuckling to himself as he leans forward to kiss your forehead, making your heart flutter.

He sits back again before putting his hands on your knees, caressing them with his thumbs as he is between your legs. "Can I take these off? They're cute n all but I'm sure your bare legs look a whole lot better." he says as he is looking into your blown out pupils without his own, now fiddling with the drawstrings of your joggers.

"Please." you reply & he doesn't waste any time before helping take them off, you raise your hips for him to make it easier, now leaving you in just your basic, white cotton underwear which makes you hide your face in your arms, shy, but he is quick to swat them away.

"Don't hide your pretty face, there's nothing to be embarrassed of. You're so innocent, my y/nnie." you don't fail to miss the 'my' part & you clench around nothing, letting out a small huff as he lays himself down on your stomach. You set yourself up on your elbows as you look down at him, a bit confused as he admires your clothed core, a small wet patch seeping through the cotton.

He takes a finger & touches your wet patch before taking it to his lips & tasting it, letting out a hum noise as he smiles, not even looking at you as he then peels your panties off your skin too, now leaving you completely bare for him, making you squirm.

He plants some kisses on the inside of your thighs as his finger trails up & down your slit, spreading your wetness around your entire core, making you raise your hips off the bed due to the unfamiliar stimulation but he is quick to push you back down.

"I'm gonna give myself a better taste, alright? Keep your hips down or I'll stop. If you seriously want me to stop or slow down, just say the word yellow, okay?" he asks, fingers stopping their movement. "O-okay, can you just go slow? I don't really know what to expect." you reply, giving him a small, nervous smile, which he nods. "Of course, I was planning on it anyway beautiful, Just lay back f'me." You do as he says & lay back & gasp a second later as you feel the kisses have now moved from just your thighs, a kiss now being placed right on your clit.

He kisses from the top to the bottom of your pussy, listening for your reaction & once he realises it's a good reaction, he begins kitten licking your clit, his index finger still feeling around the outside of your hole, adding extra stimulation. He lets out a low groan & licks the entirety of your core in one motion, making you whine & you try to close your legs on accident but he's quicker & wraps your thighs around his arms, holding them open. "Taste so good, fuck." he murmurs to himself more than to you as he begins speeding up his motions slightly, flicking his tongue back & forth before taking your clit into his mouth, suckling on it, making sure to use plenty of spit, the noises of his lips & the wetness echoing throughout the room, almost as loud as the moans you're now making.

You try your best to not squirm too much but you can't help it & you are moving as much as Hyunjin is allowing you to which isnt much by the way, the sensation being completely new to you in the best way possible. You let out an even louder whine as he uses his teeth to lightly graze against your bud, throwing you towards a high, feeling much stronger than when you brought yourself to orgasms.

Hyunjin takes this opportunity to now slide a finger inside your tight hole which you clench around immediately, making him groan again. He begins to slowly finger you while feeling around for your G-spot which only takes him a few seconds due to his long fingers & he begins rubbing his finger up & down it, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your legs begin to tremble.

"Hyunj- I'm gonna cum, d-dont't stop." you yelp, fisting his clean, grey bedsheets until your knuckles are turning white & who is Hyunjin to deny you? He continues at the exact same pace with his finger but decides to add a second one, stretching you out that bit extra as he continues to suck on your clit, using his tongue to massage it at the same time.

Your orgasm washes over you, it being the most intense thing you've ever felt. Your fingers latch onto his hair & pull on it, pulling a groan out of him as he lets you ride out the first orgasm of the night, his arms having to work harder to actually keep your legs open.

He unlatches himself & slowly pulls his fingers out of you when you've came down from your high, panting heavily as a thin sheen of sweat now coats your face. He sits back up on his legs, caressing the inside of your legs for a moment before crawling up your frame & tapping his now coated fingers on your lips & you understand instantly, opening your lips & he pushes his fingers into your mouth, resting on your tongue as you suck your own juices off them, his eyes not leaving yours for even a second.

He releases his fingers from behind your lips before leaning in & kissing you again, this time worming his tongue past your lips, allowing you to taste yourself even more, making you hum, not expecting to be so turned on by this.

You slither your hand down his pretty chest & even prettier abs before fiddling with the hem of his pants, looking up at him with glossy eyes. "Just gave you heaven n you're wanting more? Aren't you full of surprises." he teases, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek. "I want to, return the favour, well, try to." you reply, fingers moving down to balm the huge tent in his pants, making him jerk his hips forward on instinct.

"Ahhh, you want to suck my cock, jagi? Aren't you too sweet. I'll guide you. Don't be intimidated though." He says before standing up to kick his pants off & taking his underwear off with it too & you now know what he meant by 'don't be intimidated' because he is huge. He is around 7 inches & it slightly curves upward & his balls pretty & full, making your eyes gape open in amazement but also nerves, he laughs at your reaction.

He sits back down on the bed & you take it upon yourself to move & settle down on the floor in front of him, sitting back on your knees as he opens his leg enough so you can settle between them.

"Just take it at the base with a grip that isn't too strong & jerk up & down at a slower pace & then work your way up, you can kinda twist your wrist in a way too. The tip is the most sensitive so make sure to focus on that mkay? Just do what feels right, I like a tiny bit of pain so don't stress if you graze it." he tells you, his hair sticking to his forehead as he looks down at you.

You nod at his words & begin jerking him off the way he instructed & you're clearly doing a good job as he jerks his hips into your hands, biting his bottom lip as you do so. "Make it wet, it feels better." he groans & you let a glob of spit fly past your lips onto his angry red tip, which makes him wince before you lean further forward & lick the bead of precum off his tip, making him groan.

You look up at his reaction as you begin to suckle on the tip of his cock before moving sown to the shaft & littering kisses & quick suckles on it, before repeating the action. Your hand is now wet with the spit you've dropped onto & jerked all over his cock & you you decide to wing it & you put his entire tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue over it & he throws his head back, trying his best to not jerk into your mouth as you work your way down slowly, taking about a quarter of his cock in your mouth as you keep jerking him off.

"You sure this is y-your first time? too good at th-this." he groans out as he gathers your hair out of your face & pulls it into a makeshift ponytail, groaning at the pleasure you're giving him. You try to take further in your mouth but he's quick to pull your head back up so you're not pushing yourself too much, him deeming it as too much to try deepthroat him on your first time.

Spit keeps escaping your lips & you jerk it into his cock, the sloppy noises turning you on impossibly more. You release his cock from your lips to get your breath back & you blow cold air onto his tip which makes his legs tense up as he lurches forward slightly. "You're made for this y/n, i'm convinced. Lay down on the bed for me pretty." he says in a aired out, raspier voice as he helps you stand up anyway & he lays you on your back.

He quickly walks over to the other side o the bed & opens his drawer before pulling out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before walking back over to you, your legs already spread open enough for him to slot himself between. He puts the condom on & jerks himself off a few times & then drags his cock over your folds a few times, making you buck your hips.

"I've stretched you with my fingers but it's still gonna be a stretch y/n, please tell me to stop if it's too much, you're a smart girl so i'm sure you know it's gonna hurt. You ready?" he questions, his face more serious looking than before as he looks into your eyes, still dragging his cock, it running over your clit. "I know, Just do it, I'll be fine." you respond, your hands resting on your chest.

He gives you a warm smile before he slowly begins to push inside of you & your breath hitches in your chest, trying to not pay much mind to the pain but a few tears leak past your eyes. Hyunjin pauses his movement when he is half inside you, leaning forward to allow you to hold onto him. He plants a few kisses on your jawline before connecting his lips to yours, kissing you slowly as he pushes the rest of the way in, making you yelp into his mouth, his fingers coming up to wipe away your tears despite him not even being able to see them.

Your hands latch around his back as you keep clenching around him, making him groan into your mouth. Once he can sense you're more relaxed due to not clenching as tight as much anymore, he pushes the rest of the way in before pausing again.

"How are you feeling, beautiful? You alright?" he asks you as he moves the hair out of your face then kissing the tip of your nose. "H-i'm fine, just feels weird." you reply, one of your hands coming down to hold onto his muscly arm, relaxing yourself.

"Okay, I'm glad. I'm gonna move now, alright? The pain will pass, pinky swear." he gives you another peck before he sits back up & holds onto the inside of your legs, keeping you open for him as he slowly retracts himself then pumping himself back in, making you let out a small 'mhmmph' sound. He sets an extremely slow pace, not breaking eye contact with you to make sure you're not going through any extra discomfort.

You begin to let out small moans & whimpers after a few minutes, the pleasure now surpassing the pain. Hyunjin scrunches his eyes together as you clench around him, higher pitched moans leaving his lips. "You c-can go faster. Feels good." you tell him, trying to move your hips to get more. "Thought- you'd never ask. Yo're s-so tight y/n, fuck." he groans as he slowly begins to pick up his speed, the lube provided by the condom plus your wetness making it loud, your skin sticking together as he fully thrusts inside you.

"y-you're so beautiful. So good f'me y/nnie. so pe-perfect."" he whines as he sets a quicker rhythm, throwing his head back, trying to not cum on the spot just from the noises leaving your lips.

He brings a hand down to your clit & begins rubbing circles, matching the pace his cock is doing & your back arches off the bed & you shriek from the overstimulation. "G-gonna cum again, t-too much jinnie." you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hand reaches down to try swat his hand away from your clit but he is quick to hold your hand down on your lower stomach, now making you feel his cock moving inside you. "you can take it pretty, Just a little more, o-okay? cum with me." he groans out, not slowing down his pace at all. Your legs keep shaking & your back keeps arching off the bed, unable to even form thoughts, the only words able to leave your mouth being his name.

"c-cuh-cumming hyune." you force out & hyunjin can't help but smirk. He lets go of your hand & leans back down so your chests are connected before nestling himself in your neck before he begins sucking a hickey into your skin, only partially on accident, but you pay no mind.

You begin clenching uncontrollably as you can feel your orgasm bubbling up, your whole body beginning to tingle as his cock is ramming into your G-spot without missing a beat. "Y/nnie p-please don't clench so much, g-gonna cum." You can't stop even if you wanted to though however as your orgasm squirts out of you, spraying directly onto Hyunjins abs, pubic bone, the base of his cock, the bed & a few droplets hitting your lower stomach too, your eyes rolling back into your skull as your fully body shakes, shrieking & gasping uncontrollably.

"Holy shit, y-you're too perfect, squirting on my cock, y/n you'-you're too beautiful, you're n-not real, oh my god." he whines into your neck.Hyunjin basically squeals, his moans are that loud as he bites down on your neck as his own release fills the condom, you being able to feel his cock pulsating inside you.

You both sit in silence for a minute, catching your breaths back, feeling each others chests expanding against the other, his hot breath against your neck as you weave your fingers through his now wet hair.

Once you have both actually came down to earth, he peels himself off of you before peeling the now used condom off his now softening cock & you realise it has a red tint to it despite him trying to hide it from you by throwing it in the bin quickly.

"Did i bleed on your dick Hyunjin? That's so gross I'm so sorry, you could have stopped I wouldn't have cared." you rush out, feeling a deep level of embarrassment but he just tuts in response. "Don't be ridiculous babe, It's normal, doesn't bother me." he replies as he walks over to his drawers, pulling out a pair of boxer shorts & a random tee shirt before handing it to you.

"You can just stay here tonight, I don't really want you tryna get home since it's not stupid to think you're gonna struggle to walk too much, we can go shower soon." He says as he climbs back up his bed, You would protest but you know he is no doubt right. He sits up by his pillows before pulling you into his chest as he kisses the top of your head.

You both stay like this for a while before you both remember your orgasm is still marinating into his bedsheets, he changes them right after he helps you into the shower before joining you.

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It's been a week since Hyunjin took your virginity & you have tried your best to tell yourself it meant nothing to him, because it most likely didn't but you have since caught feelings for him, despite trying absolutely everything not to.

You both still met every day but it was mostly just on campus & you completed your project & obviously got an A but he actually helped so it wasn't just all you, which you deeply appreciate.

Ever since the project was finished, however, he has kept his distance. He doesn't sit anywhere near you & spends his time in lectures teasing the other random girls who fawn over him, which makes your heart burn.

You are just day dreaming when two girls in front of you talking catches your attention, & that's when you find out Hyunjin hooked up with one of them, the day after he was literally your first for everything.

You feel tears begin threatening to leave your eyes so you gather your stuff & leave the room, your lecturer not paying any mind & you begin walking towards the bathroom to try freshen yourself up when Hyunjin walks from the opposite direction & he notices the tears & he stops you by moving your chin so you're looking up at him.

"Why the tears, sweetcheeks? Pretty girls shouldn't cry." he remarks, chewing gum as he looks at you, wiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb. "Doesn't matter Hyunjin, stop bunking & go back to class." you say in a monotone voice. "woahhh, you're calling me Hyunjin again? I liked the name Jinnie a lot more, why've I been demoted hmm?" he teases back & you want nothing more than to punch the gum out his mouth.

"You tell me, do you tell all the other girl you fuck to call you Jinnie too? Like the one you fucked the day after you took my virginity?" you snap back, your voice shaking. He raises his eyebrows, honestly in shock from your words. "Babe, you know what I'm like, we aren't anything that I'm aware of so I'm a free man. If you want anything else, you gotta tell me." he replies, his voice sounding more soft as you actually begin to cry, which he hugs you as you do.

"I just thought you just wanted your cherry popped, y/nnie, I'm sorry for thinking so, mkay? We can get lunch together or something n cheer you up, we can speak about it." he offers & you just nod , leaving his arms as you wipe your tears away.

He gives you a smile before he wraps his arm around your shoulder, walking back the way he had just came from. "You can choose the place, but not too expensive since I'll pay as an apology present."

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