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dilf-docs · 3 months ago

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Saturday But in Your Sunday Best

bfd!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: joel has a co-worker's wedding in las vegas. everything that can go wrong, does.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., creampie, oral (f. and m. receiving), breast play, fingering, dacryphilia, degradation kink, ANGST (as in i've suffered so will my characters. this wasn't at all what i had envisioned at first for this part), hurt/comfort, a bit of fluff (that's new), pls be nice this writer's block shot me in the foot

word count: 11,121 words

side note: sorry this took so long. between movie watching for the oscars, my other works, midterms, pedro pascal horny hours, my wattpad fic, the max fic you citizens let flop (ĉüřşę ÿoụ āĺļ), the brat taming fic that made numbers among my oomfs on twitter, a very shitty date (the situational irony of letting a man ruin my women's day) a ptwt fic gc in twitter (love u frens), and uni again, i let the ttdik series collect dust, my bad. as compensation, take this girthy chapter altho it makes me kinda insecure IDK. this is why i don't do series okay!! i'm my worst enemy and i fear procrastination is a chronical disease of mine atp

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What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas

His foot taps anxiously against the marble floor, sound drowned by the bustling crowd.

People come and go. Some hug, others cry. And Joel? Well, he's just waiting for you to come.

He checks his watch, the one Sarah gifted him, and sighs. Should've known better.

It's been two months since the pregnancy scare, and ever since then, you have put a bit of a distance between yourselves.

It was slow, gradual: first the excuses then nights were you wouldn't stay or ask him to. And, even if your affair was that, just an affair, he missed sleeping in the warmth of your embrace. He also missed the way your nose would crinkle when you laughed. You didn't laugh that often anymore, and if you did, it sounded like you were holding in: as if you were afraid to let loose and let him see through you. And to be honest, it was killing him.

So when he reached out to you for this, he should've expected for you to say no. That you wouldn't show up after that I'll see if I'm free text: no, Joel Miller simply shouldn't have harbored that much hope for his daughter's bestfriend he happened to be banging.

If he hadn't confirmed his invitation, he'd probably gone home and layed down. Watch some garbage TV with Sarah and some beer in hand, but here he was, like a lonely loser, luggage in hand.

(Sarah helped him pack. He didn't even know what to wear to a wedding, and then she showed up with his old suit-- that still fit, somehow, albeit a bit more tight, from the dry cleaning. Joel would be lost without her)

The speaker announces his flight is about to leave. Joel gets up, trying not to be dissappointed about the whole thing. He's got no right to, after all.

"Joel?"

He'd end up breaking his neck by how fast he turned.

There you are, and it's like the weight he wasn't aware of, settling on his chest, had been removed.

"You made it" is the first thing that makes it out of his lips.

You softly laugh, "Hello, Joel"

He gets closer to you, slowly, like if he where to do it faster, he'd scare you off. Or you'd be gone, as if a dream.

(It'd be a nightmare, though, because you wouldn't be here)

"Sorry. I-" he cuts off, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. There's some tension lingering in the air, the same when you left his house a week ago. Joel had been too much of a coward to invite you then, rather hiding behind a screen.

But now you were here.

"I didn't think you'd come" he says after a beat of silence.

You tilt your head to the side, eyebrow up as if you hadn't been acting weird at all.

"Why wouldn't I?"

(Because it seems like being in the same room as me tires you. That your eyes don't shine anymore, and the starry sky looks like a storm when you dare search my gaze as we fuck. Every time you breath, its like breathing the same air as me burns)

He rather not press, so instead, he says:

"I'm jus' glad ya' came. 'S all"

You nod, not adding anything at all. Then, both you walk to your gate, side by side in silence, the same that had seemed to seep inside your romance for the past weeks.

Well, romance was definitely a stretch. An affair seemed more like it.

Of course, you're aware the change it's on you. It would've been dumb of you to think Joel wouldn't notice your withdrawal, or how more often than not you'd be stuck in your head. But still, he didn't comment on it, and like you, danced around the subject, afraid for different reasons as yours. Or the same. Yet, you'll never know. No, you're aware you both are too stubborn, and that whatever it started on that day, had settled in between like a burning flame.

(Had you been engulfed by the fire yet?)

You try not to think about it. After all, you had the option not to come. But a weekend away in Las Vegas after midterms? Too tempting to let go.

(And it's not like images of a stood up Joel in the airport, looking miserable, had made you restless the last couple of days after his text)

"Ya' can take the window" he says, even if it's his seat.

He knows you're nervous about flying, a little detail that came up during a post-sex small talk.

(What're you're dreams? Joel asked. You had answered that you'd love to travel the world after graduating, but that you had a fear for flying, despite having only done it once. It may have been because the first time you did, it was to fly for your grandma's funeral. Perhaps it was by association then, that the bad feelings about boarding a plane could be related to that)

"Thanks" you mumble, sitting down. You're avoiding his gaze, but know he's looking at you.

"What?" a little harsher than intended.

He looks taken back, looking at his lap as he let's out a soft whisper, sheepishly:

"Nothin'. Jus' thinkin' you look pretty today"

A light blush creeps up your cheeks as you huff out a Whatever.

Joel let's a breath of relief out his tight chest and allows himself to smile.

(At least, he's still got an effect on you)

The wedding Joel was supposed to attend is in the Ángel De La Guarda cathedral. You'd be staying nearby, at a hotel room Joel's coworker had paid for, the same where the reception would take place.

Being in the same room as Joel one night should be the least of your worries, but then the space is even smaller than it was supposed to (given by Joel's cursing as he paced around, anxiously), and the strain of your relationship settles in the air, physically so, tight around your throat.

Then, it's the bed issue: there's only one. It's not like you haven't slept in the same bed before, obviously, but there's a certain dread deep in your stomach about sharing the enclosed space when you're at your most vulnerable. He moves around a lot during night, and something tells you you'd wake up to his strong arms and hot breath fanning over your neck, hairs rising at the proximity, making it harded to calm your heart.

"You okay?" he's asking, dropping the bags in a corner.

"At what time is the wedding?" you ask.

He checks his watch. "In about seven hours"

The glass bounces a ray right into your face, and you have to close your eyes at yet nother reminder of why this is all so wrong.

Sarah.

"We should rest..." he says, plopping on the bed. His plaid t-shirt rises up at the same time the color of your cheeks does, when the glimpse of soft tanned skin reveals itself. He looks up to your stiff standing figure, bulk arms behind his neck as he rests his head on his biceps. "Don't 'cha think?"

Lay with me. Not outloud.

"No" you say, hastily so, not missing the way a flicker of dull akin to the pain of rejection finds its way to his brown eyes. "I..." your voice softens. "I'd rather take a tour of the place, you know? It's not like I'll come every weekend here"

He's about to raise up. I'm coming with you, again not out loud, in case you'd reject his offering again.

Which you do.

"I'm fine" you say, grabbing your purse. "Just... I need a moment"

Away from you.

"Suit yourself" but there's a sharp edge on his apparent kindness.

Closing the door behind you, it takes all of you to not turn around and see his face one last time.

You wander off through the bright lights and noisy hallways, walking until the sun of the outdoors filters a ray over the carpet through the glass doors. Strides take you to the pool area, kids giggling, parents sunbathing and youngsters chilling.

You sigh, dipping your feet in the pool, chlorine up your nose and water baterly grazing your sundress.

But you're drowning.

Drowning on his presence, every room he's in now smaller. Walls of the room collapsing, as the ones of your lungs, every breath tight if your nose catches a whiff of his scent lingering in the air. You'd wash the sheets almost immediately, crying when your head hit the pillow and it smelled like lavender and not Joel.

It was the only right choice: to erase him out of your life, because with every new kiss and thrust, he'd take another part of you with him, and you don't know how much more you can give of yourself without dying. A part of you dies every time he walks out the door, anxious heart pondering when will he walk out for good. When he'll realize the thrill is gone, that your escapades were all but a product of his crisis, and what started as a mutual use of bodies, ends in the waste of your heart.

Joel has become a drug for you: knowing it's destructive, but the high so addictive, you don't mind the crash. It's unevitable, and a small treacherous voice in the back of your head says you're just postponing a foretold death.

Yet Joel Miller makes you feel alive. Alive as a spring, grassbed full of blooming flowers. As sun carressing your skin: if you stay too long, the warm becoming burning.

A kid walks up to your sad lonely pensive corner, splashing water onto you.

"Hey!" but he's gone, and it's Vegas, so his parents are three mojitos down from the open bar, asleep under the sun. You curse, getting up and back to your room to change.

When you get to your room, is eerily quiet. And dark, the curtains closed.

You rumage through your suitcase, pulling out a change. The dress slips off, falling to the carpet with a pathetic drowned sound. You're about to change into the t-shirt when the lights flicker.

"You back?"

You scream, trying to cover yourself.

"Woah!" Joel covers his eyes, both your reactions ironically funny. Your cheeks burn as you finish dressing yourself up, and if he takes a small peak between his fingers, well, you'll never know. "Jesus, doll. If ya' wanted it so bad, could've asked"

Something akin to anger and deception morph into a burning flame in the pit of your stomach. Even after all this months, after this imminent fight, Joel can't bring himself to ask, dancing around the fragile line that barely holds on with the clap of skin against skin and sweat, as to replace the tears that will never see the light of the day.

"Right, because that's all I want"

He raises an eyebrow at your tone. "S' a joke"

"Jokes are supposed to make people laugh"

He shoots you a look, before standing from the bed.

"What's gotten into ya'?"

He walks closer, yet you give him your back, tossing the sundress with too much force in your bag.

"Don't know what you're talking about" as nonchalant as you can muster.

"Look at me" you keep the harsh packing going on. Joel grows impatient at your confusing demeanor, not just from today, but days ago. He's had enough. He spins you around, losing his cool as he shouts. "Damn it, y/n, stop actin' like a brat!"

"Don't touch me!" you yell back, pulling away.

"So that's how's it now?" Joel lets out a scoff. "Y' get on ma' bed but the moment I put a finger in ya', y'act all coy and angry?"

"Right, 'cause I'm a slut. That's what sluts do: we get on lonely men's bed and fuck them"

He grabs the bridge of his nose, breathing heavily. His voice is laced with frustration, and you know it's your fault.

"Never said that"

Why not talk it like adults? No. Too much of a coward to do that.

"Jus' tell me, doll. What's goin' on?"

I think I love you, and I'm fucking scared.

His voice is soft, pleading. In your lifetime, you never thought you'd see Joel Miller beg. You did once, but it wasn't like this. Please, he'd say. Now, here he is, standing before you like the smallest man who ever lived and not the unstoppable force you made him out to be.

It should be easy. But words never come easy. Not to you. Neither love, so foreign it makes you shiver with fear. So natural, one day you opened your eyes to him laying next to you, Sarah staying in another city for a soccer tournament, and decided that was what you wanted. All his mornings. His bed voice, thick from sleep. His droopy eyes and tired smile, facil hair tickling your face as he says Good mornin', Southern drawl never more prominent, kisses in between. Let's get sum coffee after, because he always had to drink the bitter liquid out of his owl mug or wouldn't be able to make it through the day.

You want him to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes.

You want Joel Miller. Want. Want. Want.

"I hate you"

You have ruined me.

He probably expected anything but that, given his crestfallen face. Joel wishes for time to go back, at the beach. He'd say no, push you away. Fought a little harder. Never gotten into your bed.

The worst part is, he's a fucking liar: he'd probably still choose the same, even if the end is near.

"You ain't mean that" not knowing if he's trying to convince you or himself. "Jus' wanna hurt me"

You don't humor him with an answer.

"I shouldn't have come" is what you say instead, the bitter taste of defeat and hurt etched in your voice.

Would've been easier to stop when we should've.

His words run through the tense air like a bullet.

"I agree"

Weddings had always made you cry.

You weren't even a romantic, but the whole thing-- the promise of forever, it seemed to move your heart a bit.

So, if your eyes shimmer when the bride makes her entrance and the groom, Joel's co-worker, tears up, you feel your chest tight and stomach drop. It clenches with something akin to dread and want, as if suddenly, all that mattered to you was love. A year ago, if you told yourself-- the one who got on her knees to suck Joel's dick at the beach that night, that you'd be here?

You would've laughed.

Falling for the grumpy old man who also happens to be your bestfriend's dad?

Right. Imagine that.

Except there is nothing to imagine. All of it is real.

From his quiet laughter, the sound foreign and not frequent by the way it rasps against his throat. But now the wrinkles around his eyes are more prominent, forbidden laughs marking his blushing face. as he looks away, embarrassed. You can laugh, you had said, I won't tell anyone, yet he made you swore like the sight of Joel Miller laughing was the worst thing in the world. So had become the grey strands on his hair, more sprouting each time, as his damp curls twisted in your fingers.

It is also in the way his sweat that drops over your body as he tries hard to last longer, to his grunts that fill the room as he fills you to the brim with his warm cum. How his rough seems to meet every inch of your soft skin, like pieces of a puzzle.

Something clicks when you're with Joel, and you can't help but feel it's your fault this rift has been created, aggressively peeling the white off your nails as some form of anxious torture. But, he too, aside from his initial Just glad you came, hadn't said a word about it again. Even if he had noticed it all, before Vegas too. Nothing. And then Joel told you it was best if you didn't come. Fucking great.

You feel him tense next to you, body stiff when your arm accidentally brushes his when you stand up from the bench, making you roll your eyes.

The fallout had been awkward. The elevator ride took forever, and then the space on the cab felt too small. He took you to the back, on the benches near the exit, like he didn't want to be seen with you. It got you fuming: why bother to invite you at all?

In all truth, you could've picked up your bags and left after the fight, yet you stayed. You wonder who's more of a coward. In this weird dancing around you've got going on, walking in circles over the words Stay and Leave, like both are too delicate to say out loud. Even as the couple speak their vows, amid the claps and tears, your mind keeps drifting back to one question: Which would hurt less?

It's not until it ricochets on your arm that you realize the tears are also your own. You brush it fast, but by the corner of your eye, you know Joel notices. Still, he doesn't say anything, which contributes to your spite.

The ceremony is over, and just as you can feel the anticipation of the reception's drinks to buzz your nerves down, someone blocks you the exit. A couple, more like it.

Before fully registering their faces, Joel's hand flies to your back, pressed in a firm manner that oozes protectiveness. It makes your heart flutter, no matter how much you try to suffocate the treacherous butterflies in your stomach. You try not to think too much about it as you take them in: a man, looking in his middle forties, probably around the same age as Joel, so as the woman next to him, who smiles warmly. Not like the man, who seems unwelcoming.

"Joel" he pronounces his name, manners coming out cold. "It's nice to see you made it"

His grip on your back becomes more firm.

"Mark" he uses the same tone. "Well, when ya' confirm, y'gotta come"

"And who may this be?" Mark's wife asks, not thinking there's harm in her words. You swear you can hear him snicker next to her.

"She's-"

Joel stops midtrack. How is he supposed to even call you?

"I'm his girlfriend"

You don't know why you did that but you did. You also don't know why it causes you such satisfaction to see their wide eyes and Mark's disdain.

"Oh, I didn't know you had a girlfriend. How lovely!"

His cheeks go pink. "Thanks, Laura"

"Yes, Joel. Didn't think you'd move on" but his tone isn't like his wife's. "I just assumed that being with someone wasn't on your list anymore, you know, at your age. Especially one so... young"

Laura shots him a look.

Maybe it wasn't your place to get angry, not after how you've subjected Joel to your silent treatment this past months. Not after the fight you've just had hours ago. But he is also the same man who held your hand after you thought you were pregnant. He was the one who stayed. It is too how his shoulders slump, like he believes it to be true. You can't bear to see him sad, as contradictory as that may sound.

"Mark, right?"

The man nods, still sickly smiling.

"To me it sounds like you're jealous. Which is awful, because you've got a lovely wife" she looks away embarrassed while Mark fumes. "Also, when I turn around, try not to stare at my ass. I saw you when we arrived"

There's nothing left to say, so you walk past them.

"I think that was funny. Don't you?"

He avoids looking at you.

"I called a cab. Should take us back to the hotel"

No thanks. Nothing.

"Alright" your tone is dry. "Do as you please"

He opens the door for you, but his movements seem stiff and unnatural. Like he's second guessing every breath and step.

The car begins to move. You lean against the window, seeing the hues of neon through the glass. Joel's eyes burn holes on your head, a glimpse of brown in the reflection.

"I liked the wedding"

Joel looks at you properly for the first time since the fight. Your hair falls gracefully in cascades, hinting at an effort that tries to pass as a nonexistent one. Your makeup is soft, but your lips are in a shade he can't quite name, yet manage to make them even more fuller than usual. God, he thinks of it smeared on his clothes and mouth, feeling dumb all of the sudden. Then there's the dress. He doesn't have a favorite color, but as of now, it may be red: specially if its the red that hugs your curves, pushes your tits up and gives a little peak of your leg with its open cut, dangerously close to the start of your inner thigh. Not appropriate to wear at a church, maybe not a wedding either, but fuck didn't he care. He'd even rip it off, if it was such a problem.

"It was beautiful" he agrees, softly. "Never been to one. Maybe's why I think so"

You remove yourself from the window, now holding his gaze.

"What?" your mouth drops in surprise. "What about yours? Weren't you married?"

He smiles, but it appears to be sad. "Never got time for a wedding thought"

Joel has told you things. Things he'd never say outloud to anyone else. So whenever he opens up, letting you in, you let him, feeling that familiar pleasing ache in your chest at the thought of being enough: enough to be trusted with a piece of him. Of Joel Miller's heart.

The rest of the ride is silent, your mind still on Joel's hand on your back, on his words, and how the sting never goes.

In every thought of yours, he is.

"What'appened to your nails?"

The question catches you off guard. You're surprised he even noticed at all. But your hand lays in the space between his and your dish, stiff, as if waiting for him to hold it.

"Oh" you remove it from the table, placing it in your lap. "I chipped the polish off"

"Why?"

You turn to look at him, brown eyes examining you curiously, as if he didn't know you. Like he hadn't almost whisper those three words you had been tettering around as well.

"Why what Joel?" tone brash.

He scoffs at the change again, shoulders slumping a bit. Probably in annoyance, perhaps in defeat.

"Dunno" he goes back to his dish, cutting the steak with a bit too much force. I thought we were okay again. "S'rry I asked"

Your chest tightens, as it had been doing lately.

Was this the only thing you knew how to do now? Hurting Joel?

"No, I'm sorry"

It's his turn to get back at you. "Sorry for what?"

You swallow the lump that's formed in your throat, avoiding his gaze.

"I-"

Your eyes nervously dart across the room, trying to ignore the churn of your stomach and knot on your throat. You then catch the perfect distraction.

"I think Mark is staring at us again"

"What?" Joel asks in disbelief at your change of topic.

"Mark is staring" you sigh, getting up and dusting your dress off. "Wanna put on a show?"

"I didn't come to a wedding and wore this dress to be seated all night" you extend your hand. A quiet truce settles in between. "Let's dance"

At some point he gets up and takes your hand. It feels good. For a moment, be it childish or foolish, your mind thinks this is how it is: with no one around to know you, you're his and he's yours. It's just the two of you, dancing and laughing under the lights. He'd know the song that's playing, and when you'd ask, unfamiliar, Joel would joke: how could ya' know it, if you ain't even born yet?

For just a moment, it feels like it could be.

The music is soft. It's some sort of rendition of Lady, Lady, Lady by the band Jim hired to play at his wedding.

Joel's clammy hands slip against your cold palms as you walk to the dance floor.

"Nervous?" you ask, biting back a smile.

He squints his eyes at you. "I'm just outta practice, 's all"

You laugh. "I would've never guessed"

He shakes his head, but the ghost of a smirk hides in his lips.

"Cheeky baby. Now you actin' funny?"

Joel's hand finds its place in your waist, holding firmly as the first verses go by.

Dancing behind masks, just sort of pantomime.

But images reveal whatever lonely hearts can hide.

"Maybe I'm just tired" you reply, placing your head against his chest. His heart starts drumming faster, and you hear him gulp.

"It ain't even midnight yet"

You close your eyes, feeling every breath of his chest against your cheek.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about"

Lady, lady, lady, lady

I know it's in your heart to stay

"Y/n-"

Lady, lady, lady, lady

"I'm sorry" this time clearer.

His body rocks yours slowly to the tempo of the music, and for a brief moment, amongst the sea of guests and the voice of the singer, time stops, and it's just him and you.

"Don't"

He can't bear it. Not tonight.

When will I ever hear you say

I love you

Not when your body feels so well against his, your head resting on his chest like all those nights ago, where Joel held you close, the silent promise of never letting you go on his warm strong embrace. Not when just the thought of losing you is too unbearable to even think of. Not when today, he can let his mind drift away and heart beat, dreaming of things that'll make him the butt of the joke. For a moment, you're not wearing this red dress that's making him insane. You're all in white and there's a ring in your hand, just as there's one in his. You'd dance and say I'm yours, forever. A giggle. You can't get rid of me. And he'd smile and reply a Good, wasn't plannin' to.

But now he feels like he's going to lose you forever.

"I missed you" it's your way of trying, again.

His head is a whirlwind of emotions.

"Yeah?"

You lean closer, until his cologne burns in your nostrils.

"Yeah"

Time like silent stares, with no apology

"Joel"

Move towards the stars, and be my only one

This time, he finds it impossible to shut you up. Not when you've raised your head until your eyes meet his, and the constellations he very much loves are ever present in your stare.

Reach into the light, and feel love's gravity

"Yeah?"

You pull in closer, and he can feel the whiff of champagne coming out of your mouth. Your lips are parted, and a shaky whisper is all it takes for his head to spin, drunk in love.

"Please"

That pulls you to my side, where you should always be

Your lips are so inviting. All he has to do is cut the centimeters separating your mouths.

But it's a wall. One filled with doubts, fear and the quiet rage of rejection.

His voice wavers when he starts speaking.

"I think-"

He hasn't even finished his sentence, but your heart is already broken.

No wonder why you've always treated it like a burden: nothing is worst than a heavy heart.

Maybe he'd come to realize just how absurd this all was. Him, much older than you and Sarah's dad. How could he let his daughter's bestfriend go this far. That he was a forty something guy, dancing with a twenty two year old girl. That love comes in all shapes and sizes, but there's no name for this you have going on since last summer. Perhaps, there'll never be.

"Please" you hear yourself repeat.

It started as a plea for a kiss. You don't know what you're begging for anymore.

"No, baby-"

And Joel is the first to step back.

Lady, lady, lady, lady, I know it's in your heart to stay

The cold water of rejection hits you in the face, far from his warm embrace, the contour of his face, centimeters away, now meters.

"We can't"

An ocean away.

"Joel-" your throat tightens, panic bubbling in your chest.

"I think we should stop"

The whole world around you does as soon as those words leave his mouth.

Sorrow is quick to turn into anger, and all those months of guilt, rush, thrill, labored breaths, broken rules and promises you held to your heart as an oath, sweet whispered cons in your pillow that smelled like him. It all comes crashing down with force.

A dry laugh escapes past your lips. Joel winces at the sound.

"A bit too late for that, isn't it?"

"Baby-"

"Don't call me baby" you hiss, feeling your vision blurry. "Don't call me like you meant it"

"I do" the music has reduced to a buzz in the back of your head. His firm voice borders between desperate and pathetic. "Which is why am making 'tis"

"Fucking coward" you spit, feeling your skin on fire.

Don't give up. Please.

Fight for me. Fight for this.

For us.

"Coward?" it's Joel's turn to laugh. His dark chuckle sends shivers through your skin. "Y' shouldn't be talkin' 'bout that"

"Don't put all of this on me" you raise your shaky finger, accusing. "Don't you fucking dare"

"Thought Mark was watchin'. Or 's that 'nother one of y'r lies?" Joel seethes. "Or maybe ya' don't give a shit 'bout it. Jus' like you ain't give a shit 'bout us!"

"You think this is easy?" your voice raises. "You think I wanted this?"

You think I don't care? That I'm doing well? That I wanted to pull away from you? That I knew things would got as bad as they are?

You think I wanted to fall for you?

His eyes darken. "You started this"

Your heart stops beating. People laugh, the band is still playing and chatter bubbles like the champagne flutes waiters carry by.

But all you can hear is the moment your palm meets his face.

"I wish I never met you, Joel Miller"

And then you rush out the door, your heels burning as much as your eyes and chest. Far from the party, far from the world.

Far from him.

"We ain't done yet!"

You hear him bark behind you, yet your legs don't stop, despite the buzz in your ears and the slight stumble in your walk.

Your voice sounds like it doesn't belong to you when you hear yourself speak, without turning around.

"I think we are"

But Joel doesn't give up, making you feel trapped between wanting to hit him again and let yourself be held.

"Y/n!" he calls out just like he used to when you were a kid. Like you knew no better. Reckless. Berating. But now the taste of bitter mingles with his punishing demeanor.

You spin your heel, walking menacingly towards him.

"Don't call me that" you seethe, jabbing a finger to his chest.

"That's your fucken name!" he shouts.

Tears spring in the corner of your eyes. "You know what I mean"

"Enlighten me, doll" the nickname feels like a slap to your face, and for a moment, you wish he called you by your name again, instead of tainting the always sweet calling with his vitriol, as if the four letters meant something sacred he had profaned. "S'a matter of fact, why don't y'enlight me 'bout everythin' that's goin' on. 'Cause guess what? I'ont know what the fuck is happenin'!"

And it terrifies me.

His shout probably ran across the empty hallway. The music coming from inside sounds like a muffled heartbeat, mirroring your own.

To lose you. I might as well have.

"I don't know why you seem'a hate me now" quiet this time, like every word coming from his mouth take his voice little by little. "Why ya' get all sweet on me after weeks of leavin' me, pushin' me to the side... I'm old, doll. I ain't capable of takin' this anymore"

I'm not capable of surviving a broken heart.

The possibility of losing Joel, foever, had never crossed your mind, not even as you closed off, ignoring the way his brown sad eyes would search yours to try and find answers, maybe scraps of the... whatever it was you shared.

Now, it was real, and it shook you to the bone.

"Was fun while it lasted" closing off, trying to shut the doors he let you in, clawing back to that Joel Miller who couldn't be bent. The one Sarah deemed unbreakable. But it's the same that didn't know when to back down, now praying the price of his foolishness.

I don't regret it, but Joel doesn't have it in him to give you more of his heart for you to take. If he cuts it now, from the root, he'll spare his brain from saving more seconds of the image of you he'd have to get rid off: you, taking your coffee with two bags of sugar because you hated uneven numbers, and three seemed too much for your latte. You, standing on his room like you belonged there. You, on his car, the leather having absorbed some of the floral scent you seemed to carry with you. In your clothes, your skin, your hair. He'd have to go to bed knowing he'd never get to feel your strands in his fingers, tickling the remmanents of desolation he'd been carrying like a second skin ever since Sarah's mother walked away.

Your blood runs cold.

"Fun?" the words spill in a bitter incredulous tone, all the while you're trying to hold to him without raising your hand for him to take it, like just the thought of it would be enough to choose you. Words seem to fail you, and grasping at him feels like holding sand: it keeps falling from your fingers, a cruel reminder of your borrowed time. "Joel"

"Fun" he repeats the word, feeling sick. "As in, you'd marry someone who's worth for ya'. Probably choose Texas, maybe you'll stay away. 'Cause you're smart, and know what's good. But if ya' came back, livin' at the same neighbour, in the house across mine, you'd glance up and see my porch, thinkin' 'bout us, and this will become a joke with y'r husband, 'bout your rebel days. To your kids, summ cautionary tale. To you? An'scape of summ sorts of y'r other wise boring life"

Your shaking at this point, not knowing if it's anger, humilliation or sorrow.

I'm sorry. Please, don't give up on me. Stay.

"I'd be an experience. But to me? Doll" Joel chuckles, humorlessly. "You were everythin'"

A choked up sob bubbles from your chest.

"So that's what you think of me?" you laugh, a sound so hollow it makes his skin shiver. "That this is for the thrill? For the fucking anecdote?!"

"Trust me. I've lived long 'nough, kid. You'll understand later"

It's like all those months next to him meant nothing. Like pulling away from your lips was the easiest thing to do.

"Don't you fucking dare call me a kid!" you push him. "I'm not a kid"

"I know you ain't!" he roars back. "But you don't know shit!"

"Neither do you!" your quick to counter. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh? Bet you think that I'm some helpless naive idiot who doesn't know what I want. I don't know what I'm doing, that you're right. But I do know what I signed up for, the price I would pay" losing you or Sarah. Both. "I wanted it, and newsflash: so did you" you breath, running your hands through your hair, trying to comb some sense of normalcy to ground yourself while you try to recover your composture. His arms lay weakly by his sides, restraining himself from running to you and craddle you on his arms. "You chose this. You chose me, Joel Miller" each word pronounced with contempt. "I'm not a victim. Neither are you"

A dry chuckle escapes past his chapped lips. "What are we, then?"

(Two lonely souls who seek warmth. People who fell into the same bed. Shared time they shouldn't have. Selfish. Living on borrowed time. Always tettering around the edge, so easy to fall. History repeating itself. The dancing around. Dirty, like the Texan roads: and they all lead back to his bed)

"So do it" you shove him again, as if by doing so, you could push him away forever. From your mind, from your heart. From your life. "Say it"

He shakes his head, as if you'd insulted him.

"Sweetheart-"

"Say. It" you bark, tasting the venom on your tongue. "Say it!"

"I can't" looking so small, your resolve almost crumbles. Almost.

"Coward" you spit, repeatedly punching him feebly on the chest as tears stream down your cheeks. He tries to grab your hands, to stop you. "Don't touch me! Let me go"

"I can't" this time louder.

Tears sprout with more intensity at the desperate weight on his tone.

A single drop runs down when you say, defeated: "Quit me"

"I can't!" he shouts in your face, voice breaking slightly.

"Why?!"

"'Cause I fucking can't!" Joel breaks. He crumbles in your arms, body shaking as he buries himself in your reluctant embrace. He speaks again, this time softer, "I can't lose 'cha, baby. If that makes me sum goddamn coward, then so be it"

Something in you stirs. Like a lost boat, finding a lighthouse during a storm. Arriving to shore with gentle waves. Home, where it belongs.

"Joel-"

"I'm sorry for bein' selfish" between agitated and terrified, afraid of the silence and what you may say. "For noticin' your quiet and still carryin' on"

"Joel"

"Believe me, doll. I tried to stop. To leave ya'" he swallows, "but then I got invited and my mind went to ya'. Fast. You were the first person in my mind. Always are. I think that's when I knew. S'okay if you don't-"

"Joel!" you shout this time.

He raises his view from his little spot on your chest.

"It isn't just you" in a whisper that could easily pass as the wind that sweeps inside from the main door. Voice so fragile it hurts like glass. "I feel this too"

Just like that, he's both gone and back. His heart beats on his throat, voice raw when he searches for your eyes and asks:

"You do?"

The big unbreakable Joel Miller, looking at you not like a force to be reckoned with, but as a man, worn down by years of solitude and the weight of a secret.

You smile through the tears. "I've been many things, but a liar never"

He chuckles, softly. "Always was a bad one"

"See?" softly teasing, "you can attest to that"

"Twenty one years seem 'nough"

"Soon to be twenty two" pause. "And I would love it if you were there to see it"

A breath hitches somewhere in the middle of the new aphonia that's settled.

"You don't mean all'at. Think 'bout it-"

"I do" you interrupt him, firmly. You hold his gaze while cupping his face, the fright on his face mirroring your own. "You asked before, remember? There's your answer"

Joel is at loss for words. Was never good with them, less when it came to you: like your presence unsettled him in the same way tornadoes made him quiver when he was a child, rattling him to the bone. But there was a morbid fascination to them, in their destructive nature. Like beauty could be horror too, and he had learnt it thanks to your unforgiving winds that had swept him away from his feet.

He was flying. Fucking flying. Never quite landing. Afraid of the fall.

"I'm scared"

Joel leans in, forehead touching yours. His skin is warm, something about it soothing your nerves down.

"Me too"

You bite back a smile. "Big broody Miller, scared?"

"Y' know how'da disarm a man. I'll give ya' that"

You laugh, eyes crinkling while you swat his chest playfully. It's the same sound he missed so dearly. Joel can feel himself breath with relief.

"Now that's the story I'll tell my kids" could be our own. "The one where I won over Joel Miller"

A deep, rich rumble erupts from his chest as he pulls you even closer, this time, your head the one on his chest.

"I'll do you one better" he slowly moves his leg closer to the inner part of your thighs. "Wanna hear how it ends?"

"Jesus, Joel" laugh tense. Your heart pulses like his cock. Hard. "You sure are a mood killer"

He presses further. "But ya' want it, don't 'cha?"

You whimper, weakly. Truth is, you've been wet since you saw him dress on his rather tight suit. Now, after what you just confessed, you're not sure you can hold back any longer.

"Use y'r words, baby"

"Our room" the possesive adjective making his stomach rumble with need. "Now"

Stumbling feet. Whispered breaths oozing with drunk desire. Giggles. Buttons of an elevator pressed forcefully. A crammed space that felt even smaller. More giggles in a hallway full of doors that looked the same. Some mumbling, trying to remember the room. Grabbing the card from his pocket. You somehow make it to your room. Fumbling fingers. One swipe. Two. Try slower, but his voice is as urgent as strained. The door gives in. Finally, couldn't wait any longer. And he's chastising you, for being so impatient. Yet his eyes are all dark and sweet when looking it at you.

"We're here" and then the door closes with a loud thud. And Joel is yours again, just like he was that night, and forever was since.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back fervently. You open your mouth and let his tongue get inside as you moan his name.

"Please" you whine.

"Please what?" Joel chuckles, enamoured at your hanging mouth and heaving chest. Fucking tease. "Use y'r words, doll"

"Please, Joel" and hearing your name fall out of your lips like it's the most sacred prayer brings him weak to his knees. "I need you"

(I need you, as in I need you here. With me. Now. To never let go and hold my hand, not only when we fuck, but also when we walk, side by side, hands brushing like a touch it's too much to bear. Because if we held hands, I'd never be able to pull back. I need you to look at me as you undress me, because I'm bearing all of me for you, scars, body and secrets, trembling like a scared child, because no one's ever had me. Not like you. Not like you)

"'S right, sweet thing" he drawls out in a husky whisper, like his slick tongue was coated in honey. He pulls your head back, nipping and sucking on your skin. "Say ma' name like 's the only thing you know"

And in a way, it is. Because you'd always call Joel, fingers itching at a number you've memorized until it's burned in your eyelids, like when you close your eyes, you can see him standing in front of you, Texan accent and heavy boots in your doorstep, later to be discarded and hidden beneath your bed.

He pulls back, making you involuntary whine at the loss of his lips and tongue on you.

"Tell me you want this" he's saying, and for a moment, past the fire and the need, you see Joel as not the man who can bring you to come two times in a row, but your bestfriend's dad, who's slept in a bed alone for the past two decades, who can't meet you in the eyes when he undresses himself, looking like the one who's got the more to lose when his lips press aginst yours in a soft manner, not out of tenderness but out of fear.

"I do" without hesitation, as if you would tattoo your promise and wear it like your heart on your sleeve. "I want you, Joel"

You want all of him: from his boring Sundays sprawled on the couch watching a rerun of some old sitcom to his greying hair, aching joints and creaking bones, that despite so, would still kneel and eat your pussy like a man starved, tongue sliding through your folds with a learned ache, pouring the same yearn, longing and hunger that he wears on his eyes when they land on you, no matter if his brown are miles away, because they'd always find your own, like a boat lost in translation and a sea of sorrow coming back home, as if you're the only important thing in the world. His anchor. The lighthouse of his vast ocean of forlorness.

"That's my girl" but no smirk adorns his face, rather a small smile that warms your chest, right as he pulls you back in. There's a shift in the aire as he kisses you know, as if not only his tongue is in your insides but his soul, without holding back this time, like all limits have blurred and melted into a pool of desire and affection.

Joel pushes you down onto the wide bed, climbing on top of you as he kisses your jawline, leaving wet kisses along your warm skin. You moan as every contact of his mouth sends shudders to your body, him taking his time as he works over your jaw, down to your chest.

"Such'a pretty doll. And's mine" his calloused fingers fiddle with your bra, unclasping the lingerie until it falls messily discarded next to the bed. "Got summ nice tits on you, baby" and Joel's eyes sparkle with excitement, lighting up like the neon lights of the Vegas sign, "don't 'cha think?"

Your back arches with his touches, mouth ghosting over your nipple, already pebbled at just Joel's breath.

"Fuck, Joel" you mewl his name, dragged with difficulty as he laps his tongue over your breasts greedily. You can feel Joel's cock pulse and throbb in your thigh as his body hovers over yours, lips still wrapped around your nipple as he suckles and nibbles at the tender flesh.

"'S sorry, doll" he's apologizing in a mocking manner as you whimper at the contact of him against you, suckling hard, tongue swirling and flicking over the sensitive bud as he drew it deeper into the wet heat of his mouth. "Ain't know you'd be so fucken responsive with just a lil' lick at y'r pretty tits"

As your body trembles and quakes, he speaks again.

"Open y'r mouth" you do so, because honestly, you'd never deny him a thing. "Want 'cha to suck on 'tis fingers, like the slut ya're. Get them wet so they feel good against 'tis greedy pussy"

You take the fingers as you'd take his cock, sucking on the skin that tastes like salt and gasoline, a slight bitter taste but you take them as deep as you can, until your lips brush his rough knuckles.

"Good greedy whore" he praises. "Now let me help ya' with that"

Joel gestures your damp panties, taking them off and putting them up his nose, inhaling like he did the first time you ever fucked, back at the beach house that summer that feels a life ago, seawaves crashing onto the shore as they drowned out your moans.

"Sweet" as if your arousal was his favorite dessert, gripping the sticky lingerine until his knuckles turn white. "Fucken wet and drippin', and s'all for me"

He feels your greedy hands fumble with his pants and belt, pulling him closer as the feeling of unfairness at his clothed figure dawns upon you.

"I like how you look in a suit, but right now-"

He laughs, a deep rich sound bubbling up from his chest.

"Ma' baby wants it that bad, huh?" you nod your head feverishly, a beg threatening past your lips.

"Please, Joel. I want to suck your cock" the dirty words come out as quick as a breath. "I missed it so so bad" not caring at all about how desperate you come across or the pitiful begging that's a plea away from drooling out of your mouth with an aching hunger.

"'S that what you want? Draggin' me out'a reception 'cause y'r greedy dirty mouth couldn't keep still? Bet you'd crawl on da' floor just to get a taste of this dick" every word makes you mewl. "Might have to see ya' beggin' for it"

"I'll do it" you beg, voice a wanton plea. "I'll do whatever, I just need to-"

"I see ya' really do"

He removes your hands from his body, chuckling as you pout and whine like a baby.

"Love hearin' ya' so eager fo'me" Joel says, tugging the pants finally down. Through the cloth of his underwear, it's impossible not to see the silhoutte of his hard throbbing dick.

The sight of him, hair disheveled, pupils blown wide, white button shirt now wrinkled and sticky with sweat, tie loose and that faint smell of champagne that clung to his mouth and scent like a second layer of his skin.

"Get on the floor. Now" he commands, and you're quick to obey. "Gonna fuck that dirty mouth of yours until my cum dribbles outta your cheek. S' now? Be obedient if ya' want a taste, slut"

You let out a small whimper as Joel frees his cock from his underwear.

"That's right, baby. Like what ya' see?" his cock is straddling your face in your current kneeling form. "Need that mouth to open wider"

You obey in an instant.

"Good girl"

Joel shoves his cock inside your mouth, giving you a few seconds to adjust before pushing a little further. You bob your head forward but the task proved to be hard when he was thrusting at the same time. His big hard dick hits the back of your throat, a gag dying past your busy lips.

"'S it bad if I tell ya' I like watchin' you squirm and struggle with my cock? 'S fuckin' hot"

You narrow your eyes, struggling to keep your throat relaxed as he thrusts forward, fucking your mouth and throat. Your thighs clasp together, the slick pooling down your legs in the absence of underwear.

Joel's groans become raspier as his body begins to tense.

"'M gonna fuck y'r throat raw, doll. And then, I'm gonna cum. Down y'r greedy throat. 'S my girl okay with that" he can see the plea in your eyes as you choke on his cock once more. "S'alright then. Ya' know I love to spoil ma' girl"

As his body starts to edge closer, his tongue runs loose.

"Love watching you suck ma' dick" he looks down on you, eyes glossy, probably because he was drunk in alcohol and you. "Love how it feels. Love how you feel. Love- I love you"

(There's an involuntary gag somewhere)

Joel's body tenses and it doesn't take that much for you to feel the warmth of his cum go down your throat.

You choke again and he brings his dick out of your throat and let you swallow the rest.

There's a beat of silence, as dense as his fluids down your throat. You avoid his gaze, heart drumming on your chest.

"Doll..." he whispers, the last bits of climax sweating off his skin; all that's left is shame. "C'mere"

(Say it back, he should plead. I know your eyes don't lie, but if I heard those three silly words out of your mouth, I could die happy tonight. A bigger man would beg, but he's never been good, even if he tried)

He helps you get up, wobbly legs not being of help when it comes to the shock of his confession.

I love you.

As much as a tender touch as a knife slitting your chest open in a clean cut.

(You're bleeding love)

Love.

Such a foreign word, one you've never felt before. Yet, what's scary is recognizing that latent warmth on every stolen glance; brush of a hand. The tingles provoked by getting the largest serving, even if his daughter sat at the same table. The flutter of your chest when he tried to be there for you when you thought you were pregnant, even if he was as scared as you. In every little thing he had done since you first started playing with fire, how you wore his heartbeat as an echo and his skin like a second layer to your own.

His lips are swollen when they take yours.

"'S fine" some kind of tiredness seeping through the cracks of his gruff exterior and composed rejected posture. "Ya' don't have to-"

"I love you" you croack out.

His voice comes out impossibly small as he whispers. "What...?"

A fireworks show explodes out somewhere in the background.

"I love you" you repeat, words dripping with an adoration only known to captain's going down with their sinking ships.

You're drowning, but the water doesn't burn your lungs anymore.

"Lemme help with that sore throat of yours" he's tugging down your bottom lip, fingers playing with your mouth to open it. He gazes at you with a look that tugs at your heartstrings. "Open, baby"

Your dry throat and warm mouth welcomes the spit he lands inside.

"There ya' go" and you swallow it, making him curse. "Fuck. 'S so hot seein' you do that, my lil' sweet slut"

"Joel" you whine, hands curled up in white fists as you grab him by the collar of his button shirt.

"Whoa, baby. What's goin' on?" he chuckles softly. "Use y'r words"

"Y-You made a mess-" you blabber, the wet slick between your thigh sticky. "I-It hurts, Joel"

"Hurt?" he cocks an eyebrow. "Care to show me where?"

You sit in the bed, parting your legs, finger pointing out the moist zone.

"Here"

His adam's apple bobs, and the gulp reverberates against the walls of the room.

"Fuck... I see" each word strained. "Don't worry, doll. I can help ya' with'at"

It's his turn to kneel, knees burying on the carpet.

He places one of his big hands on your knee, his calloused fingers tracing absent patterns over the skin. His other hand drums slighty against your trembling leg, so close yet so far. You're so impossibly eager, and a part of him, that fragile ego, is boosted to the roof at your (actual and very real) want for him.

All that glistening pussy was his work. Joel really disarmed you like that.

"If I do this, maybe it won't hurt anymore" his mustache and recently trimmed beard tickle against your sensitive folds as he presses a kiss to your core. You writhe, throwing your head back as your hands fly to his hair, gripping the greying loose curls tightly at the contact. "Will ya' let me eat out this pretty pussy, doll?"

"Please" you let out, breathlessly.

"Love hearin' ya' beg" and he dives in, strong hands holding your thighs on place as he sucks your clit lightly. Your hips buck, his face burying into your cunt to the point his nose touches the warm folds. You moan at the feeling, his tongue now circling against your center.

"J-Joel"

"Feels s'good, right? As good as I feel feastin' on this tight little cunt" and his deep voice sends jolts when it echoes against your walls. You squirm at the sensation, stomach tight with his sucking and licking, misntrations sending you to the edge.

"Joel?"

Barely above a whisper, voice tight.

He looks up to you, pupils blown wide. "Yes?"

"C-Can you finger me, please?"

"Fuck, baby" he whistles. "You really know how'da bring a man to his knees"

And you chuckle at his lame attempt of a joke, not laughing at him but with him.

Joel slides one of his thick, calloused fingers through your soaked folds, feeling the velvet softness of your inner walls clench down on the invading digit, a demonstration of how impatient they were to take his cock. He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, slow circles.

"Wanna hear you, y/n" just your name alone on his mouth makes you writhe, and Joel's encouragement as his finger dips lower to tease at your entrance. He slides a second finger into your cunt, pumping in and out of your tight walls in a steady, driving rhythm. You roll against his hand as he curls his fingers. "Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby. Wanna see you ride 'em 'til you come undone. Wanna taste your cum on my tongue as you scream ma' name"

He can feel your body start to tremble, pussy clenching down on his fingers as he fucks you with a relentless pace.

"Shit" he groans, tongue lapping firmly at your clit, "s' fucking tight"

"I-I can't help it" you feel the burning sensation in the corner of your eyes, "I-I feel every inch of you in me"

(Up to your body, head and heart)

"And you ain't even had my cock yet" he's quick to tease. "But I know you'll feel s'good, baby. Takin' my cock like da' good girl y'are"

Tears begin to stream down your face freely, the salty drops hot against your warm skin.

You sniffle, and Joel's movements stop for a bit.

"You cryin'?" but you know damn well he's aroused, by the way he licks his lips absentmindedly as his brown orbs stare back at you, dilatated. You still remember the last time you cried during sex, and how his reaction was practically the same, except this time, it's received with a grateful welcome home. "Fuck, baby- I love when you cry like a lil' cocksleeve over ma' dick"

Despite the lewd words, he's wiping your tears away with his thumb in a soft gentle touch.

"S'okay, baby" he coos, kissing up your throat and onto your chin. Then, you feel a wet sensation on your cheek: but it isn't the tears, yet his tongue, licking the hot stream. "I'll give ya' ma' cock if you want it so much. Now quit your cryin', yeah?"

But you keep sniffling, impossible to close the dam once it's broken.

"My sweet crybaby" Joel mumbles, "I love ya', doll"

"I love you too" each time you said it, a new flower blooming in your heart. It could be. "I do, Joel"

He smiles, the kind of smile that is painful to watch. The kind that says: Is this real? Do I deserve this?

"Y'know I'm bad with words, so lemme show you instead"

He's climbing on top of you as you push yourself into the middle of the bed, lips tangled into a demanding kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth like he wants to tame it. He drops his underwear again, but he's still wearing the goddamn shirt. You whine, and for a second, while over you, he stops.

"What is it, baby?" Joel pants.

"T-take it off" you huff, worked up. You let the tie loose first, starting to unbutton his shirt after. "I want to see you, Joel"

His hand is quick to fly and stop you from taking it off. Even in the dim lit room, you can see the faintest of a blush covering his cheeks.

"Sweetheart..." he mumbles, "I dunno-"

"Please" trying to remove his hand.

"You really wanna?" but behind his teasing smile there's both a hopeful and vulnerable glint to his voice.

You extend your hand, cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist, and it's just you, your ragged breaths and the light tickle of his growing beard on your palm.

It could be.

"Because I love you" holding his gaze firmly. "All of you"

"Fuck, baby" Joel starts to get off the shirt, "ya' really made those fuckers downstairs drop their damn mouths when ya' walked in with me. Couldn't believe it, such'a pretty girl could be mine" he snarls, grabbing your face by the chin. "Hell, I'ont believe it either. That you could wanna be with me"

But then you're touching his now naked form before you, fingers slowly tracing through his face to his tense jawline. Then across his broad shoulders to his tummy, feeling the soft swell against your stomach as he leans over your eager form. It's the way you look at him, as if he's the most beautiful man in the world, that makes his breath catch on his throat, staggering.

Your sweet broken voice rings in his head.

It isn't just you. I feel this too.

(Scared. Confused. Happy. Grieving. Loving)

It should be his ego boosted and cock stroked, but when his eyes find yours, it's his heart that feels the fullest.

Fuck, he was too old for this shit.

"Look at 'cha, making lame ol' me a sappy motherfucker" he laughs, the same blush from earlier now more prominent. He leans down to kiss you, his moustache brushing your lips. "If ya' don't stop, I'll take ya' right now and we're gettin' married tonight by summ random Elvis guy"

"What If I wanted that?" you challenge as your mouth presses fluttering kisses to his caging arm, lips stopping on each spot and mole peppered through his thick bicep.

"Then get dressed" you feel him squirm under your insistent lips, "'cause I ain't gettin' married again while naked"

"Where you married, Joel?" you can feel the salt air up your nose of the first night again, asking the same questions. The fact that he's opening to you warms your chest in a pleasant way.

He looks at you absentmindedly, humming as to confirm.

"We were too damn young. Had to, for the baby on the way" he tells. You remember Sarah's aversion to the topic, and given his next words, it makes sense. "Then she left"

I would never leave.

"I'm sorry" you offer instead.

"Don't" the atmosphere is quick to change again as thise words leave his mouth. "Now, where were we?"

You're quick to spread your legs to him, gilstening cunt on full view.

"Good girl" he smirks, lining himself with your warm entrance. "If ya' keep behavin', I might give ya' my cum"

His tip against your clit for a few seconds before pushing down against your hole. Joel groans as his length sinks in your gummy walls, feeling the tightness from before.

"You feel s'good" grunting as he slowly pushes in, letting you adjust to his girth. "Always do"

He presses a gentle kiss to your sweaty hairline.

"Tell me how it feels"

"Good" you mewl. "Big"

"Ain't that right" he chuckles.

"Need it all. Please" and you grip his neck tightly, arms around it. His nose brushes against yours as he grunts out a You little minx. "Want it, Joel. I can take it"

He bottoms out. "Then do"

"Fuck" you curse, cunt stretched to adapt to his girth. You breath in painfully, and Joel's eyes lace with concern. "I-It's fine"

"Sure? I can wait"

"I’m okay" you assure him, moved by his care for you. You buck your hips. "You can move"

He starts by setting a slow pace, taking all the space insade your clutching heat. Joel groans at the sensation, your walls gripping him like a vice as he continues to move in a slow motion, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes. Yet, as his arms cage you by your sides and you look at him with certainty, he picks up a brutal pace, just as you like it, slamming into you over and over again, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small bathroom.

"K-keep going" you grip his left arm. Joel lets out a hiss as your nails dig on his skin. "Feels so good"

"Good'nough for you to cum on m'dick?" he groans huskily in your ear, breath ghosting on your skin like a hot kiss. "Gonna fill you up, doll. I'll mark you as mine, now and for da' rest of y'r life"

The way his voice drips with dominance as he commands you, filled with a rough rich baritone tinted with a possesive hunger, his hips moving faster as he drives into you with force, pistoning harder is enough to set you on edge.

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss.

"Cum f'me, baby. Let me hear ya' cryin' over my cock"

Tears. Stars. Grunts. Moans. Cum.

Your cry for his name against his lips is how you announce your orgasm, washing over you. Your walls flutter as Joel lets you ride slowly through your climax.

"There ya' go, baby. Go on, ride it" then, he pauses. His face strains. "Hold on tight. I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum. Right there, baby. Stay"

Somewhere along the moans and the writhes of your soft skin against his hard planes and soft belly, Joel asks where you want it. Inside, you hear yourself say, eager to feel all of him again, filling your insides, invading every inch of your body until a part of himself leaks into your heart. He's then blabbering as your walls and heart flutter, about kids and other things you both want but can't have. Tonight, though, as he Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he starts to come, grinding against you, making sure you feel every last spurt, every last bit of his release, you allow yourself to believe.

He pumps some shallows thrusts inside of your slick dripping cunt, emptying himself, before pulling out and looking down at you with a tired smile.

"I love you" he says again in fervent whisper, as if by repeating it, he could materialize it. "I love you so fucking much, y/n. And if ya' can't accept that, can't believe in that, then... then I'ont know what the fuck I'm gonna do. 'Cause I can't lose ya', baby. I can't"

"You won't" you don't know why it comes so easy, or why the promise slips as natural as a breath. "I'm here, Joel Miller. You won't lose me"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #bfd!joel miller #bfd!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #to the devil i know series

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tobiosbbyghorl · 2 months ago

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yours, like i always was | psh

café for7you followers event

Order for @rjssierjrie @ ⋆˚✿˖°

One, Romance Cream ‘Holding hands under the table.’ Coming right up!

Steeped in years of shared memories and the kind of closeness no one questions. Infused with playful bickering, possessive stares across crowded rooms, and kisses passed off as “just how we’ve always been.” Poured over with hand-holding under the table, knowing looks, and the unspoken rule that no one gets between you. This cup is warm with lifelong comfort, a touch clingy, and undeniably, hopelessly, his.

If you saw Sunghoon, you saw Y/N.

If you saw Y/N, Sunghoon was a few steps behind—sometimes with an iced americano in his hand, sometimes with your tote bag slung over his shoulder because “you always overload it, and I don’t want you pulling your shoulder again.”

At this point, your friends stopped asking who was hosting.

If you were at Heeseung’s place, Sunghoon was in your seat waiting for you. If you were late to lecture, he was already saving the spot beside him, your favorite pen on the desk. If you didn’t show up to a party with him, people assumed you weren’t coming.

The two of you were inseparable. Always had been.

And no one could quite tell where the friendship ended and something else began.

⸻

“Don’t glare like that,” you murmured, nudging Sunghoon under the table with your foot.

“I’m not glaring,” he said flatly, resting his chin in his palm, eyes locked on the stranger who had tried to strike up conversation with you while you waited for the group to arrive.

You gave him a knowing look. “Sunghoon.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Why’d he sit next to you like that? There are six empty chairs.”

“Maybe because the rest of the table is full of backpacks and your entire gym bag?”

He didn’t reply. Just reached for your hand under the table, like it was second nature. Your fingers threaded together automatically.

“Better,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow. “You holding my hand makes you less jealous?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, brushing your thumb against his.

The boy who’d been trying to talk to you glanced over, then blinked when he saw your hands clasped together under the table.

Sunghoon didn’t even flinch. Just shot him a polite, tight-lipped smile and laced his fingers even tighter with yours.

⸻

You’d always been like that.

Touchy. Close. Maybe too close. But it never felt weird.

You had your legs over his during group movie nights. He played with your fingers during class. If you needed to whisper something, your hand would tug on his hoodie until he bent down without even asking what for.

And the kisses?

Well, those started casually too.

It was a Tuesday night after midterms. You were in his room, sprawled out on his bed with an energy drink and two half-eaten convenience store meals between you.

“I can’t feel my brain,” you groaned, rolling onto your side to face him.

Sunghoon let out a soft laugh, flopping onto his back beside you. “You say that every time we study.”

“This time I mean it.”

You reached out and poked his cheek. He grabbed your wrist and tugged you closer until your face was a few inches from his.

“You look like you’re gonna fall asleep.”

“I might.”

“Go ahead,” he said, gaze dropping to your lips. “I’ll wake you up in ten.”

And then, without thinking, without blinking, you leaned forward and kissed him. Just a soft press of lips—slow, sleepy, gentle.

He kissed you back like it was nothing new. Like it was something you’d done for years.

When you pulled away, you didn’t speak.

Just tucked yourself under his arm and sighed.

“Wake me in twenty.”

“Got it,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling like he was trying not to smile.

⸻

From then on, kisses weren’t special. They were yours. Part of the routine.

A goodnight peck after falling asleep on his couch. A quick kiss on the cheek when he handed you coffee. A lazy smooch mid-movie when you were both too tired to speak.

If anyone else tried that, you’d burn the world down.

But Sunghoon? He was your person. Your other half. Your “not-boyfriend” boyfriend.

⸻

One night at dinner with friends, you were seated beside each other, legs touching, sharing a plate even though you both had your own meals.

“Can you two be any more couple-y?” Chaewon asked, exasperated, watching you swipe a noodle off his plate.

Sunghoon didn’t look up. “We’re not a couple.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Heeseung muttered.

You snorted, flicking Sunghoon’s hand. “We’ve always been like this.”

Chaewon narrowed her eyes. “You literally fed him a bite. With your hand.”

“I was helping,” you said innocently.

“You kissed his cheek,” Heeseung added.

“He had sauce there.”

“Your hand is on his thigh right now.”

You blinked. “And?”

Sunghoon just shrugged, completely unfazed, and turned to you.

“Want dessert?”

“Only if you split it.”

“Obviously.”

And under the table, he reached for your hand again—his fingers brushing yours before they laced together like they belonged there.

⸻

The next night, after everyone left, you were curled up on his bed, still wearing his hoodie, your cheeks warm from the wine.

“You know they think we’re dating, right?” you said.

Sunghoon looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“They’ve been placing bets.”

“Who’s betting on us?”

You rolled onto your side, hiding your face in the pillow. “Everyone.”

“Wanna make them lose?”

Your breath caught. “What does that mean?”

He leaned over you, smile lazy, eyes soft.

“Means if we keep pretending it’s normal to hold hands under the table and kiss when no one’s looking, I might actually start losing my mind.”

You blinked up at him. “You already kiss me like it’s nothing.”

“That’s the problem,” he whispered. “It’s not nothing.”

His forehead rested against yours.

You reached for his hand again.

He took it without hesitation.

⸻

You and Sunghoon didn’t talk about that moment again.

Not the way his voice dipped when he said it’s not nothing.

Not the way his fingers curled tighter around yours like he was afraid you’d let go.

Not the way your heart tried to punch a hole through your chest when his forehead pressed to yours.

But things changed.

Not in a big, obvious way.

Just in the way you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

Or the way your hands always found each other’s under the table, even when you weren’t seated next to each other—reaching, brushing, lacing fingers like it was a habit neither of you wanted to break.

⸻

At a small get-together the next week, you were curled up on the couch, leaning into Sunghoon with a blanket thrown over your legs. He didn’t seem to care that it was warm inside. He didn’t move away once. If anything, he shifted closer, his palm resting gently on your knee under the fabric.

You should’ve noticed your friends watching.

“Okay, enough,” Chaewon burst out suddenly, pausing the movie. “Can we just clear this up?”

You blinked. “Clear what up?”

She gestured between you two. “You’re obviously in love.”

Sunghoon froze beside you. “I—”

You coughed, voice higher than usual. “No, we’re just—”

“Best friends,” Heeseung deadpanned. “Who kiss. And cuddle. And hold hands. And sit on each other’s laps when there’s a whole other chair available.”

You bit your lip. “Okay, maybe—”

“Sunghoon literally picked Y/N up bridal style at that party last weekend just because she said her feet hurt.”

“She did say her feet hurt,” Sunghoon mumbled.

“That was one time!” you insisted weakly.

Jake just shook his head. “Bro. You two basically live inside each other’s personal space.”

Sunghoon opened his mouth. Closed it. Then turned to look at you, eyes full of something soft and quiet and there.

“You wanna just…” he started slowly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles, “make it official already?”

Your heart thumped against your ribs.

You blinked. “Like, for real?”

He nodded once. “I think I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve.”

You stared at him. “Sunghoon—”

“And you kept kissing me like it didn’t mean anything,” he added, lips curving slightly, “but I know you. It did.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Yeah. It did.”

He smiled and leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours again. Just like that night.

But this time, he kissed you for real.

Not the sleepy, casual kind.

Not the “this is normal for us” kind.

A real kiss—slow, full, lingering like it was built on years of everything you never said but always felt.

When you pulled back, the room was dead silent.

Then someone (probably Jay) clapped.

“I KNEW IT,” Chaewon shouted.

Jake was already transferring money through Venmo. “Pay up, losers!”

Heeseung muttered, “I feel like I should apologize to myself for all the times I sat third wheel without knowing it.”

You and Sunghoon just looked at each other and laughed—fingers still intertwined under the blanket.

⸻

Later that night, walking home, Sunghoon held your hand tighter than usual.

“You okay?” you asked.

He glanced at you sideways. “I just… I can’t believe we waited this long.”

You bumped his shoulder. “I can. We’re idiots.”

“Speak for yourself,” he teased. “I was a little down bad, sure, but I was also very patient.”

You snorted. “You glared at every person who so much as said hi to me.”

“I was being protective.”

You stepped in front of him, walking backwards to face him. “Sunghoon, you once made me fake a phone call because a guy tried to sit next to me on the bus.”

“I regret nothing,” he said proudly. Then added, voice softening:

“I didn’t like the idea of anyone else getting to have you.”

Your heart flipped.

“You have me now,” you said, letting him catch your wrist and pull you in close.

“Yeah,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours for the third time that week. “I do.”

And this time, when he kissed you, there was no one else around.

No friends. No teasing. No pretending.

Just you and him—and the kind of love that had always been there, hiding in plain sight.

want to order too? visit and place your order on café for7you!

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee @morganaawriterr @rikifever @daisyintherainsposts @kkamismom12

#⋆౨ৎ˚ café for7you⟡˖ ࣪#luvbytaerungz writes #sunghoon scenarios #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon x reader #enhypenwriters #sunghoonfluff #sunghoononeshot #sunghoonxreader #enhypenxreader #sunghoon fic #park sunghoon fluff

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saythenametotheworld · 2 months ago

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Tsunami | c.vn (18+)

You knew you deserved better; you figured that out yourself. But what use is better when Vernon’s all you wanted? A rebound gone wrong. Or maybe right. Depends on who’s asking, really.

Genre: rebound relationship, smut Pairing: Chwe Vernon x afab!Reader Warning: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), angst. Notes: 16k words. Title is based on Tsunami by NIKI. Prompt for this was from an anon who submitted a request a while back. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: I do not know them, nor do I claim they would ever act irl the way they are portrayed in this story.

Enjoy!

"A roaring tsunami, you came crashing in like an act of God. Shake my earth, suck the air out, burn me down."

They called it the Midterms Party. It wasn’t an official university function, but it was a tradition—it happens every semester, with students or groups of students bidding to get the opportunity to host it. This semester, it was hosted by a posh Fashion and Design senior who had invited every single student on campus to attend the party at a sprawling mansion on the upper side of town.

You haven’t even met the girl, but you sure felt at home in her Chesterfield couches and expensive wool carpet.

“Rich kids sure know how to host a party,” said Vivi, throwing her head back as she drank a shot of tequila. “Hooh! That’s the good stuff.”

“We should take that shot glass home,” you grinned drunkenly, half-lidded eyes trying to focus on the crystal shot glass in Vivi’s hand.

Vivi’s eyes were gleaming when she asked, “Should we?”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Jules interjected, snatching the crystal away. “Did you see those security guards outside? Yeah. Not happening.”

Vivi was about to protest, but stopped midsentence, eyes focusing somewhere across the room. “It’s Vernon.”

“Vernon?” Jules asked, just as you turned to follow her line of sight. “He’s here?”

“Is that why Mina didn’t want to come tonight?” you asked, squinting to find which one was Vernon in the sea of students flooding the entire hall.

Vivi snorted. “Pretty sure it’s because she’s going out with Dean tonight.”

“I don’t see him,” you muttered, still squinting.

“He’s right there, brooding,” Vivi sighed, shaking her head. “Don’t mind him. Let’s go get refills.”

You rose to your feet, letting Vivi tug you by the arm. You made sure to grab Jules by the wrist too, and you made your way through the crowd until you reached the mini bar.

You got a refill while Vivi chattered nonstop about some guy she was eyeing across the room. Jules was only half-listening, distracted by something on her phone. You zoned in and out of the conversation, distracted by the sheer chaos of it all.

You were trying to grab another drink from the mini bar when you accidentally bumped into someone, hard enough that your glass nearly sloshed over the edge.

“Whoa—sorry,” you said quickly, eyes going wide.

It took a second for you to realize it was Vernon. He stumbled slightly, trying to keep his drink in his glass as he locked eyes with yours.

“You okay?” you asked, more out of reflex than concern.

Vernon blinked, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his gaze unfocused like he’d been lost in thought. “Yeah, fine,” he said, his voice a little rough. Well, all of him looked a little rough and messy—his clothes, his hair, the knot between his eyebrows.

“Uh-huh. Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you added, not knowing what else to say.

He shrugged, and the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Guess that’s the point of the crowd.”

Vernon’s eyes flickered around, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be there at all. Then, as if deciding something in his mind, he glanced at you and nodded toward the back of the room, where people were mingling by the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony.

“Wanna get some air?”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “With you?”

He blinked, caught off guard. And for a second, you considered taking back what you’d said, but then he smirked, all gleaming teeth and pointed canines. “You’re right. That was so random.”

He sighed, tucked one hand in his jacket pocket, and tipped his glass in the air. “Well then, excuse me.”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to stop him—guilt, curiosity, intrigue—but you found yourself calling out, “Wait,” and following him toward the glass doors.

It was cooler out here, quieter. The music from inside thudded against the closed windows, but it was not as loud. Guess the thick walls of this mansion had other purposes.

You leaned against the balcony railing, arms folded over your chest, while Vernon stood a short distance away, swirling the drink in his glass like it might give him answers. Neither of you said anything at first. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly nice either.

“So,” you said eventually, “you always this cheerful at parties?”

He huffed a laugh. “Only when I’m spiraling.”

You glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at you—just watching the trees sway in the wind. “Okay, Drama King. You’re not doing a very good job hiding it,” you muttered.

He shrugged. “Didn’t really come to hide. Just figured standing around in a new location might change the vibe.”

You smiled despite yourself, small and quick. “Classic coping mechanism. Relocate the sadness.”

He took a sip. “I think I’ve mastered that. Relocation. Repression. Deflection.”

“Big words for a guy holding jungle juice in a red cup.”

That earned a laugh. A real one, low and warm. “Fair enough,” he said, then added, “I’m not usually like this, you know.”

“Well, we all have our days,” you said simply, not to dismiss him but to draw a line. Because maybe he was, or maybe he wasn’t. Either way, it wasn’t your place to say.

After a while, he said, “I messed a lot of things up lately.”

You looked at him again, but his expression gave nothing away.

“I was kind of… stupid,” he went on, casual like he wasn’t slowly peeling a layer off himself. “Or maybe not stupid, just… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Your gaze drifted back out to the street lights. “Happens to the best of us.”

He gave a small nod. “Still sucks though.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just let the silence fill in the blanks—you didn’t mention Mina, and neither did he, but the echoes of her name lingered in the air anyway.

You stayed like that for a while, leaning against the railing, both of you watching nothing in particular.

“So, what’s next after relocation and repression?” he asked after a while, straightening up and taking a deep breath.

“Why? Are you gonna practice how to face it like a man?” you quipped, chuckling. Vernon chuckled too, shaking his head in amusement.

“Is it denial?”

“Mm,” you nodded solemnly. “Denial is a classic. Works great until you’re crying over leftover noodles at two in the morning.”

Vernon hummed. “Been there.”

“No, you did not,” you sneered.

“Actually, I did.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow skeptically. “Tell me your noodle sob story.”

He shrugged. “Well, for starters, it was supermarket ramen. The eighty-nine-cent kind. Barely edible unless you throw an egg in it.”

“That’s when you know it’s serious,” you said, eyes lighting up mischievously. “Low-grade ramen tears.”

You both laughed. It wasn’t loud, but it felt good. And when the laughter faded, you found him still looking at you. Not just looking—watching, like something about you had changed in the last few seconds, and he couldn’t figure out how or why.

You blinked. “What?”

Vernon didn’t answer right away. He just tilted his head slightly, like the angle might help him understand something.

“Nothing,” he said, though it didn’t sound like nothing. He took a breath, like he was going to say something else, then didn’t.

Your brow lifted. “Okay… why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “You just… caught me off guard.”

You frowned, but not because it upset you. You were just confused—confused and a little too aware of how close you were standing now. The space between you had vanished, like neither of you had noticed yourselves stepping closer.

“Caught you off guard, how?”

Vernon’s gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then flicked back up to your eyes. “You’re kind of funny when you’re not being mean.”

You laughed. “I wasn’t mean.”

“You were a little mean.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Earlier, you said ‘With you?’ like I was some random stranger.”

You stifled a laugh. “Well, you were being kinda random.”

“But not exactly a stranger.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already smiling. And before you could say anything else, he leaned in—not fast, not slowly either. But naturally, like it made sense, like maybe you’d both been leaning this way all along.

And you didn’t pull away. You didn’t even think to.

At some point, you’d gone from the balcony to the backseat of his car. The windows were fogging up with the heat of your breathing, your bodies, and everything building up between you.

Vernon’s mouth was on yours, hungry and careless. His hand was cupping the back of your head, the other gripping your waist. You’d straddled his lap at some point, your knees pressed awkwardly into the cushions, your dress pushed up, and your fingers clutching the collar of his jacket.

It was messy. Uneven. All teeth and tugging and short, shaky breaths.

He groaned softly into your mouth when your hips rolled against his crotch, his hands tightening at your sides. “Fuck,” he muttered, making you push back a little, one hand pressed on his chest.

You stared into his eyes, half-lidded and clouded with desire. You could feel his heartbeat on your palm, or maybe it was yours thudding loud enough to count for both of you. And his lips, god, those lips. You’d want nothing more than to have them on yours again.

“I should go,” you mumbled, trying to be rational despite every fibre of your being not wanting to leave this cramped space.

Vernon’s forehead creased, confused. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Because he’s Mina’s ex-boyfriend, that’s why. Because it’s weird. Because you shouldn’t want this as badly as you do. “I don’t know,” you muttered, your hand curling tighter against his shirt.

He searched your face, his breathing still uneven. “Do you want to go?”

You didn’t answer right away. Maybe you should’ve. Maybe the decent thing would’ve been to untangle yourself, fix your dress, and head back inside like nothing happened. But the pull of his body against yours, the warmth of his breath on your skin, the way he was looking at you like you were the only real thing in his night—it made the decision for you.

Fuck it, you whispered in your head, and then you kissed him again.

This time, it was you who leaned in first. You who parted your lips, who pressed your hands against his chest, who deepened the kiss like you’d never had any doubts at all.

Vernon made a low sound in his throat—like relief, like hunger—and pulled you closer. His hands slid down your waist, gripping your hips like he didn’t trust you to stay. Your thighs clenched around him, the angle was tight and awkward, but god, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered right now except the way his mouth felt against yours and the heat building fast, faster than you could keep up with.

Clothes were soon forgotten. His jacket was shoved off. Your dress was bunched around your hips, his hands sliding up your bare thighs.

You gasped when his mouth left yours, grazing your jaw, your throat, then lower, taking a mouthful of your boobs with the kind of reverence that had no business existing in the backseat of a car.

And then he paused. Just barely. One breath, maybe two. His lips brushed yours again as he whispered, “Do you wanna go out with me?”

Your brows furrowed. “What? Like… sometimes, or…?”

He didn’t answer. He just kissed you again—deeper this time, more urgent. Like the question was real, but this was more real. Like whatever came after this could wait, because right now, all he wanted was you.

And you let him have you.

The rest was a euphoric blur. Your underwear shoved aside, his jeans undone. The cramped space made every movement clumsy and rushed, but that only made it feel more desperate. You could barely breathe, panting into his neck as he pushed into you, a grunted curse falling from his lips when you clenched around him.

It was raw and uninhibited. There was no talking, just looking into each other’s eyes as he drove you to the edge of your sanity. Outside, the music from the party was still faintly audible. Inside, there was only the sound of your breathing, of skin against skin, of your hands scrambling for something to hold onto as the windows fogged and the car rocked beneath you.

You weren’t supposed to want this. Weren’t supposed to have this. But god, he felt good. He felt real. And right now, that was enough. You’ll worry about the other stuff later.

You stirred under a blanket that wasn’t yours, in a room you didn’t recognize. The light was sharp through half-open blinds, and you caught sight of the hardwood floor and the polished furniture around the room.

You blinked, groggy. Your head was a hurting a little, but not splitting—just enough to make you regret the fourth or fifth glass of whatever you’d been drinking last night.

Vernon! You screamed in your mind, memories of last night’s excursions flooding in.

You turned your head to the side and saw a shirtless Vernon, leaning against the headboard, scrolling through his phone like this was just another Tuesday. His hair was messy, sticking up at odd angles, and a few faint red marks stretched across his collarbone. You didn’t need a mirror to know you probably matched.

“Morning,” he muttered, not even glancing at you.

You stared at him for a moment, still trying to piece things together. “Where… where are we?”

“My house,” he said simply.

Your heart kicked a bit. His house?

You sat up slowly, letting the blanket fall to your lap as you looked around. The room was modern and clean—high ceilings, thick curtains, and framed art on the walls that didn’t look like they came from a dorm room clearance sale. There was even a full-sized couch on one corner, and a desk that looked more like a workspace than a dumping ground for laundry.

“What part of town is this?” you asked slowly, eyes narrowing. “Did you drive drunk last night?”

Vernon finally set his phone down and looked at you properly. “No. We both knocked out in the car. I woke up at, like, five and drove us here. It’s not that far from the party.”

“Where is this exactly?”

“Greenview,” he said simply.

Green-fucking-view. Rich people lived here. Football stars and neurosurgeons, and kids who wore designer slides to class. You processed that in silence, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as you stared at the pristine bedroom.

You looked back at him, brows furrowed. “I didn’t know you lived around here.”

He raised a brow, then shrugged. “Now you do,” he said, leaning to plant a quick kiss on your lips before pushing himself off the bed.

Vernon stretched when he stood, all lean lines and muscle as he crossed the room in nothing but a pair of dark sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. You stared—not out of curiosity, but out of sheer, involuntary appreciation. He was pretty muscular, not bulky, but firm—defined arms, a sculpted back, and that sharp taper of his waist.

You caught yourself biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together.

Then you shook your head violently and pulled the blanket up like it could shield your shame. Get a grip. This was a one-time thing. A mistake fueled by tequila, dim lighting, and heartbreak. Nothing more.

Vernon glanced at you over his shoulder, smirking like he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Breakfast?”

You ended up downstairs, wearing fluffy slippers and half-swallowed by his hoodie that smelled vaguely of fabric conditioner and him. It hung down to your mid-thighs like a hoodie dress, with the sleeves dangling over your fingers. He set a warm plate of eggs and toast in front of you on a patio table overlooking a private pool—blue, serene, and surrounded by tastefully trimmed hedges. The whole scene felt like something out of a very rich, very confusing Instagram story.

“Thanks for breakfast,” you said eventually, poking your fork through a slice of avocado. “I’m leaving after this. I’ve got errands and evening classes.”

“I’ll drive you,” Vernon replied easily. “You can shower if you want. I had someone wash your dress from last night.”

“Oh, thank you,” you said, relieved. “I was worried I had to go home like this.”

“You don’t look bad like that,” he chuckled, sipping from his coffee like this was the most normal thing in the world.

After breakfast, you padded back into his bedroom, marveling again at how neat everything was, and stepped into the en-suite bathroom that was nearly half as big as your apartment. The tiles were smooth under your feet, and a huge rain shower waited at the far end behind a glass door. You tugged at the hoodie, just starting to lift it over your head, when you caught movement in the mirror.

Vernon was leaning against the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, shoulder propped on the frame. That same smirk played at his lips—mischief, confidence, a hint of sleep still softening his face.

You narrowed your eyes. “What are you doing standing there like a creep?”

“You’re not gonna invite me in?” he asked, his voice low and playful.

“No?”

He shrugged. “Guess I got my hopes too high. We did defile my car last night.”

You tried to scoff, but it came out breathless. “Defile is a strong word.”

He stepped closer, slow and steady like a lion who knew the prey wasn’t running. “Okay. How about sully?”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t stop him when he reached for the hem of your hoodie and tugged it upward. Didn’t stop him when his mouth brushed your shoulder. And definitely didn’t stop him when you both stumbled into the warm spray of the shower, your laughter drowned out by the hiss of water and the sudden heat of his mouth on yours.

The water was already cascading down, steam filling the bathroom like fog. Vernon backed you into the shower, hands on your waist, thumbs dragging slowly over bare skin as he kicked his sweatpants off.

“You always this handsy in the morning?” you muttered against his lips, breathless and teasing.

“Only when I wake up with a pretty girl in my bed,” he shot back, before nipping gently at your lower lip.

You gasped, more from surprise than pain, and your hands curled around his shoulders, feeling the solid, flexing muscles beneath your palms. He didn’t seem like a gym rat, but he was strong and big enough to make you feel small when he pressed into you, chest to chest, with the water pouring down between you.

His mouth moved to your neck, kissing beneath your jaw, then down to your collarbone. “Still not inviting me in, huh?” he murmured, and then dropped lower, crouching slightly as he kissed the space between your breasts.

“What? This isn’t invitation enough?” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

He huffed a laugh and pulled you flush against him again, hands trailing down the slope of your back to your hips. You could feel him, hard against your thigh, and god, it was dizzying—how easily your body responded, how warm everything felt, how right it somehow was despite how wrong this should’ve been.

You tangled your fingers into his wet hair as he leaned into you again, one hand gripping under your thigh to lift your leg around his waist. The angle made your breath hitch.

“You good?” he asked, voice hoarse, eyes half-lidded and focused entirely on you.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Vernon didn’t need more than that. He adjusted slightly, one arm bracing behind you against the tiled wall, the other still cradling your thigh. His mouth found yours again—slower now, but deeper, more consuming. You kissed him back just as desperately, your hands wrapping around his back, the other on his neck, nails grazing his skin, and he groaned softly into your mouth.

You could feel him prodding your cunt before he pushed into you with just a little bit of struggle before smoothly filling you up. You gasped sharply against his lips, your back arching instinctively.

The heat of the water blurred the lines between his body and yours, every nerve ending dancing and buzzing alive. He moved steadily and relentlessly—and the wet slap of skin, the shallow sounds of breathing, and the occasional grunt were swallowed up by the sound of rushing water and fogged-up glass.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t slow. It was raw, fast, a little uncoordinated, like you were both still half-asleep and making sense of each other all over again. But there was hunger in it, and desperation, chasing a high you’d once experienced with each other and now can’t seem to get enough of.

“Vernon—” you breathed, fingers tightening on his shoulders.

His response was a grunt and a kiss, messy and off-center as his pace quickened, hot breath fanning your cheek. You could barely think, only feel. With the pressure building, your knees growing weak, and your wet skin sliding against his.

And then it hit, sudden and intense. You clenched around him, gasping, biting down on his shoulder to keep yourself from crying out. He cursed under his breath, holding you tighter, hips stuttering once, twice—then pulling out to finish himself with his hands, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a low groan that vibrated against your chest.

You stayed like that for a second—tangled limbs and shallow breaths as Vernon held you in place to keep your knees from giving out. His hair was soaked, dripping water into your eyes while you were shaking from the aftermath.

Eventually, Vernon let out a breathless laugh. “Bet you don’t regret inviting me in, did you?”

You rolled your eyes, feigning disinterest. “Oh, please. It was just fine. And you invited yourself in, perv.”

He smirked. “Whatever you say.” He caressed your cheek and kissed you slowly.

Vernon dropped you off just before noon. The ride was mostly quiet, but not awkward. You’d both already said what needed saying—or not saying—between tangled sheets and shower steam. When he pulled up to your building, he leaned his arm over the wheel, glanced at you once, then leaned in to press a quick peck on your cheek.

“Get some rest,” he said.

You nodded back. “You too.”

Then you stepped out of his car, smoothed your dress down your thighs, and walked into your apartment like you hadn’t just had sex with your friend’s ex-boyfriend in the backseat of his car, then again in his marble-tiled shower.

Closing the door behind you felt like snapping a chapter shut. No closure, no commentary—just done. It was just a momentary lapse of judgment—a one-time thing. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You changed, tossed the dress into your laundry hamper like it was evidence, and went about your day like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t crossed a moral line and then dove over it headfirst.

By the time late afternoon rolled around, you were on campus for your evening classes, hair washed, face fresh, voice steady.

“Jules said you disappeared last night too,” Vivi said as she adjusted her sunglasses—indoors, because fashion. Her grin turned sly. “Let me guess. You found yourself a hot guy and ran off like the good girl that you are.”

You choked on your iced coffee, sputtering into the straw. “What? No. I just—got tired. Turned in early.”

“Turned in early, I see,” Vivi snickered, turning to Jules. “She totally found a hot guy and ran off last night.”

Jules groaned dramatically. “Wow. So both of you left me at that party to fend for myself while you chased boys.”

“Uh-uh. I didn’t chase him,” Vivi said, arching a brow. “He chased me, for the record.”

You laughed along, trying to keep it casual, hoping the warmth in your cheeks wasn’t giving you away. Then Vivi turned back to you, squinting playfully.

“So? Who’d you leave with?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it again. Your brain panicked. Do you lie? Deflect? Pretend you don’t remember? You’d promised yourself this would stay a secret, but you hadn’t exactly prepared a cover story.

“There you are, darlings,” came a familiar voice, cool and clear with a posh London accent. “God, I’m starving. Can we eat before class? Did any of you eat anything at all?”

Your heart did a full-body jolt. Speak of the fucking devil. And what an alluring devil she was.

Mina crossed the green with two of your mutuals trailing behind her, iced matcha in hand and an oversized tote slung over one shoulder. Her long coat fluttered behind her. Her honey-brown hair was pulled into a high claw clip, with a few strands left loose deliberately, and gold hoops on both ears catching the sunlight.

You blinked. Somehow, next to her, you felt…pale. Underdressed in your plain knitted sweater and faded jeans. You’d never really compared yourself to any of your friends before. But now, after Vernon—after last night—you felt that creeping sense of awareness. Mina was beautiful. Magnetic. The kind of girl men didn’t just get over.

“Mimi!” exclaimed Vivi, immediately forgetting about her question as she rose to give Mina a kiss on the cheek. “Tell me everything about last night.”

Mina rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “Later, love. Food is top priority right now,” she said as she turned to give Jules a kiss, too.

You froze for a second when she turned to you. “Hey,” you said dryly, leaning in as she moved to kiss your cheek.

“You look knackered,” she said, almost kindly. “Late night?”

You forced a shrug, praying no one noticed the spike in your pulse. “Something like that.”

“Oh, she’s had a good night alright,” Vivi teased, nudging your arm playfully. “Wouldn’t tell us who the lucky guy was, though.”

You sighed, feigning indifference. “Give it a rest, Viv.”

“Yeah, leave the poor girl alone. Let’s go get something to eat before we all pass out.”

The rest of the day was torture. Between classes and casual conversation, you nodded along, smiled at the right times. But inside, you were spiraling.

You hated the way your stomach tensed every time Mina spoke. Hated how you couldn’t look at her too long without remembering the weight of Vernon’s body on yours. His hands, his mouth. His raspy voice in your ear.

The guilt sat quietly in your chest, not loud or dramatic, but constant. You’d never really felt it like this before—this itchy, unplaceable guilt that followed you from the café to the lecture hall, even during your brief moments alone between classes. It only left you alone when Mina wasn’t there. When it was just you, breathing in an empty hallway or listening to the professor yap about theories and whatnot.

By the time your final class ended, you were drained in a way you couldn’t explain. The others were already discussing dinner—some new bistro that had opened just a few blocks from campus.

“It’s cute, and they do cocktails,” Vivi said, tugging at your arm. “Come on, you’ve been weird all day.”

“I have a deadline,” you said, wincing at how unconvincing you sounded. “Digital storytelling.”

“Sounds fake but okay,” Jules said, already turning to Mina, who was too distracted flipping through her phone to press.

You waved them off with a tight smile and walked away before anyone could question it further.

The taxi ride home was quiet. You watched the city pass by, lights flickering in windows and street signs. And as the car rolled to a stop in front of your apartment complex, your heart started picking up pace.

There he was, leaning against the hood of his car, hoodie on, hands in his pockets, head bowed slightly as he stared at the ground like he’d been waiting a while. He looked up as your taxi pulled in, his gaze locking with yours through the windshield.

You stepped out slowly, paying the driver without breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Vernon straightened, giving you a half-smile. “Hi. I texted you.”

“My phone was dead,” you replied, standing in front of him, keeping a reasonable distance.

“I see,” he said, nodding. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab dinner with me.”

“It’s past nine o’clock.”

He paused. “I know. But I texted you earlier. I didn’t know your class would finish this late.”

You shrugged, arms folding across your chest. “So? Why did you come all the way here?”

Vernon’s brows creased, like he didn’t understand why you had to ask. “I came to see you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to,” Vernon replied, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You didn’t answer, just looked at him, unsure what to do with the sudden flutter in your chest. It made you nervous.

“You’re standing kind of far,” he said, squinting at the space between you. “That’s not very welcoming.”

Before you could respond, he reached forward and tugged you in by the hem of your jacket, pulling you close until you were flush against him. You gasped, hands automatically landing on his chest. You glanced over your shoulder, scanning the street like someone might’ve followed you.

“Vernon,” you warned, trying to take a step back, but his arms wrapped around your waist before you could. He caged you in, not forcefully, just firmly enough to keep you in place.

“What?” he lilted and then leaned in to kiss you.

It was softer than you expected. Less urgent than last time. When he pulled back, you blinked at him, half-dazed.

“We are not in the kind of relationship where we can do that in public,” you chided, rolling your eyes. “In fact, we’re not even in any kind of relationship at all.”

He tilted his head. “You sure? ‘Cause I asked you if you wanted to go out with me.”

“When?”

“Last night. You didn’t say yes, but I kind of assumed it was a done deal after this morning,” he explained, smiling.

You frowned. “What—wait. I thought you meant ‘go out’ like hang out sometimes, not a… relationship.”

Vernon scoffed, looking baffled. “No. That’s— come on.” He sighed and shook his head. “Baby, I don’t do hook-ups.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? So you talked to me once and decided you want me to be your girlfriend?”

He chuckled softly, brushing a thumb along your jaw. “Come on now, that wasn’t the first time we talked. We’ve hung out several times before.”

“Oh yeah, there’s that too.” You pushed yourself away from him. “We’ve hung out before when you were still seeing Mina. You know? My friend Mina?”

Vernon sighed, his shoulders slouching as he leaned back on his car again. “Mina and I broke up weeks ago.”

“Doesn’t really change the fact that your ex is my friend.”

His brows furrowed, but you cut him off before he could say anything. “And I know it might seem a bit hypocritical coming from me because, well, I did make the sound decision to sleep with you despite it all. But that was just the moment. Plus the alcohol. We were vibing, having a good time and got carried away. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Vernon repeated.

“I said what I said.”

He paused. “So, it didn’t mean anything?”

“Maybe it didn’t,” you said, softer than you meant to.

His eyes flicked over you, unreadable. “Did it?”

You swallowed but said nothing.

Vernon didn’t press. He just stood there, his gaze steady, lips parted like he wanted to say more but knew better. You looked at him then, properly. The slouched posture, the furrowed brows, the hint of disappointment in his voice. Not the smug guy who had you pinned in the shower hours ago. Just a boy standing by your curb, asking if it meant something.

You could’ve walked away. You should’ve. That would’ve been the responsible thing, the friend thing, the safe thing. But your feet didn’t move.

You did a quick mental math. Vernon, as Mina’s ex: a con. Vernon, as the guy who made your heart race, your knees weak and cooked you actual breakfast: a decent-sized pro.

Mina and Vernon were done. Everyone knew that, even Mina had started going on dates lately. You hadn’t broken any sacred code exactly… right? Maybe there was a statute of limitations on exes. You didn’t exactly plan for this to happen. But it did. Somehow, it did.

And yeah, maybe this was messy. Maybe it would come back to bite you. But maybe it wouldn’t.

You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead like the thought gave you a headache. “Fine,” you muttered, dropping your hand. “Let’s do it.”

A crooked smile spread across his face, canines peeking through as if he couldn’t quite hide how pleased he was. “You sound like you’re being forced into this.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t say anything. You just turned toward your door and started walking away. You’d taken a few steps ahead when you noticed Vernon wasn’t following you.

“Are you coming or not?” you called out without glancing back.

“I’m coming,” he said briskly, and you could hear him shuffling before you felt his arm around your waist, followed by a soft kiss just below your ear.

Vernon, it turned out, was a pretty decent boyfriend. Not the flowers-and-sonnets type, he wasn’t exactly sweet but he was thoughtful. Considerate. The kind who remembered something you’d said in passing and sent you screenshots of memes that reminded him of you mid-lecture. A little deadpan sometimes, but surprisingly funny when he wanted to be.

You didn’t go out on dates much. Most of the time, you hung out in your apartment. Late-night fast food runs. Coffee breaks in between classes. And those long, lazy evenings where you both lay on the floor listening to whatever playlist he was obsessed with that week.

“I’m telling you,” he said one night, head resting on your thigh as you sat on the floor scrolling through your phone. “This guy’s gonna be the next big thing.”

“Vernon, that’s the third SoundCloud rapper you’ve said that about this week.”

He just grinned up at you, fingers lightly stroking the bare skin under your hoodie. “One of them’s bound to make it. Law of averages.”

He was freaky, too. Always touching, always finding a way to close the space between you. Whether it was sliding up behind you while you brushed your teeth or slipping his hand under your shirt while you were trying to find a movie to stream.

“You’re like a raccoon in heat,” you complained once, swatting him away as he kissed the back of your neck. “You don’t even ask.”

“You never say no,” he muttered into your shoulder, sniffing your skin afterwards like he was addicted to it.

You rolled your eyes, half-laughing. “That’s not the same thing.”

But you didn’t push him away. You never really did.

He was bold, sure, but not pushy. Just… shameless, really. Just always in the mood. Always ready to turn a casual kiss into something steamier. And he made it funny, somehow. Endearing. Like he wasn’t taking himself too seriously, but couldn’t help himself either.

And it wasn’t just about the physicality—he liked looking at you. Really looking. Sometimes it made you squirm, that intensity in his eyes like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You’re doing it again,” you said one evening after, still breathless and sprawled across your bed.

He propped his head up on one hand. “Doing what?”

“You’re staring.”

“I like staring at you,” he admitted. “You’re really pretty.”

You scoffed, tossing a pillow at him. “You are such a liar.”

He laughed and caught the pillow mid-air. “No, seriously. You’re way too good for me. You could do better.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” you muttered, fixing your gaze on the ceiling. “That’s not funny.”

His smile faded a little, just enough. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just kissed him again. Lightly. Like a thank-you. Like a stop-talking-now.

You never told your friends.

At first, it was just easier that way. Although it did make you feel guilty and anxious. You knew they’d find out eventually—especially since Vernon didn’t seem all that interested in hiding it—but for now, you did what you could to keep things under wraps. Avoided walking too close on campus. Left his name out of your stories.

Anyway, you’d just started. You weren’t even sure if it was serious yet.

You kept telling yourself that. It wasn’t serious. You weren’t serious. Just vibing, having fun, seeing where it went.

Except… day by day, you kept falling for him. Little by little. The way your stomach flipped whenever his name lit up your phone. The way your day never really felt done until you’d seen him.

It was a slow Saturday afternoon when the knock came. You weren’t expecting him—you hadn’t even texted him yet—but when you opened the door in your oversized pajamas, there he was, standing with a plastic bag in one hand and a smug look on his face.

And a buzz cut.

You stared, jaw dropping. “No way,” you blurted, blinking at him like he’d shown up with a new face. “What is that?”

Vernon grinned, stepping inside as he rubbed his head. “A haircut?”

“No, that’s shapeshifting,” you said, clinging to him and tiptoeing a little to poke his head. “Where’s your hair? Where’s my hair? I liked your hair.”

“I just thought I’d cut it for a change,” he said, setting the bag on your kitchen counter like nothing was wrong. “It’s just hair.”

“Wrong. It was beautiful hair,” you argued, crossing your arms. “It was soft. Brown. Touchable. Now you look like you’re enlisting.”

That made him laugh out loud, head lolling back and all. “Come on. I brought snacks.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but then reached up to gently rub a hand over his buzzed scalp, curiosity winning over irritation. It felt... nice, actually. Warm. Neat.

He tilted his head, giving you a little side-eye. “See? You love it.”

You dropped your hand, huffing. “Fine. It looks good on you.”

Vernon smirked. “So, you’re into it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He stepped in closer, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. “I know you like grabbing my hair when I’m down there, but I assure you, the haircut won’t affect my performance at all.”

You snorted, though you decided to play along. “I’m sure it won’t, but what about me then? Where will I hold on to?”

Vernon appeared to think, then lifted your hands to the back of his head. “You can hold onto the head.”

You giggled, pushing him away. “Stay away from me, Private Chwe.”

But you didn’t really mean it. Because a few minutes later, you were curled up on the couch with your legs over his lap, sharing a bag of chips and casually running your fingers over his fuzzy head every now and then.

It was late. You were curled up in bed with Vernon, the room dim except for the soft glow of your phone screen. He’d knocked out not long after your second round, arm slung over your waist and his breath warm against your shoulder. You hadn’t moved, just mindlessly scrolling and letting the post-sex haze stretch a little longer.

He stirred behind you, mumbling something incoherent and making you glance over your shoulder. “Hmm?”

No response. His arm tightened around your middle slightly, and then, just barely awake, he muttered, “Go to sleep, Minmin.”

You froze. It was quiet, almost just a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear.

He didn’t even realize he’d said it. You could tell by how his breathing deepened again right after, like nothing happened, like he hadn’t just called you by her name.

You turned back to your screen, but the words there blurred. Your stomach twisted tight and cold. You knew it wasn’t on purpose. Knew he hadn’t meant it. Knew people said weird shit in their sleep all the time. But still.

You locked your phone and willed yourself to sleep after that.

From the start, you told yourself it was fine—Mina and Vernon were over, she was moving on, you hadn’t done anything technically wrong. But “technically” was doing a lot of heavy lifting. Because the truth was, Vernon wasn’t just some guy you met. He was Mina’s ex. Mina, your friend, the sweetest girl you’d ever known.

You hadn’t pried into their relationship much. Mina liked to keep those things private—she wasn’t the type to air out dirty laundry unless it was already halfway down the street. But in a friend group like yours, sometimes things slip. You knew they were on-and-off for two years. Knew that sometimes she’d show up to brunch with puffy eyes and a thin smile. Knew she once admitted she loved him, but called him exhausting in the same breath.

As her boyfriend, Vernon never really hung out much with all of you. He was always just a name, a shadow in the corner. Mina liked to keep her worlds separate: her friends, her boyfriend, her self. Clean boundaries. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to pretend he was just your Vernon now.

Until he sleep-mumbled her name. After that, you started seeing her everywhere.

In his car—her music taste still in the saved playlists on his stereo. A cracked compact mirror in the glove box. One of those pink hair ties looped around the gear shift.

In his phone—random photos of her mixed in with others. Her caller ID and photo still unchanged. Even in Vernon himself. Mannerisms. Phrases. Words he’d unintentionally—maybe even unconsciously—say with an accent. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now, in your ears, it was unmistakably her. Mina rubbed off on people that way.

But it was his house that really got you.

The first time you stayed over, you didn’t notice much. You were too wrapped up in the moment, in him. But when you started spending more time there—sober, dressed, paying attention—you saw her. In the closets. The bathroom drawers. Earrings in the dish on the nightstand. A polaroid photo tucked in the back of a book you grabbed off his shelf. Her smile. His arm around her.

They were everywhere, those little echoes. Maybe he didn’t even know they were still there. Or maybe he did, and just didn’t care enough to clear them out.

And that was awful because it meant you were walking through a space still haunted by someone else. Living in the leftover corners of someone else’s love.

You hadn’t said anything yet. You weren’t sure if you would. But ever since that night, since Minmin slipped out of his mouth and his arms curled around you like it didn’t mean a thing, something had changed. You couldn’t unsee it.

You couldn’t unfeel it either.

“Okay, spill. Who is he?” Jules demanded one day, putting her cup down a little too firmly.

You were halfway through your iced coffee, huddled in the corner booth of your usual café. “Who?” you asked dumbly.

Jules and Vivi exchanged a look like they were tired of your bullshit. “The guy you’ve been sneaking around with,” Vivi said, folding her arms. “Don’t act clueless. You’ve been weird for weeks. Dodgy. Distracted. Glowing.”

“Glowing?” you scoffed, aiming for a laugh, but it came out strained.

“Yes, bitch. Glowing. And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you vanish every weekend,” Jules added, leaning in. “We want a name.”

“I don’t vanish every weekend, not all the time,” you said quickly, but they weren’t buying it. You tried to keep your voice casual. “I’ve just been… busy.”

“Busy getting laid,” Vivi muttered into her straw.

You rolled your eyes. “Can I have some privacy?”

“Sure,” Jules said. “But you’re making it weird by being so cagey. We just wanna know who’s been putting that look on your face.”

You could feel the walls closing in. They meant well—you knew that. But their faces were too expectant, too trusting. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t drop the name and watch their expressions change. Couldn’t say Vernon and watch Jules flinch, or Vivi blink twice and say “Mina’s Vernon?” like she’d misheard.

So you laughed and said, “It’s nothing serious. Just someone I’m kinda seeing. No labels or anything.”

Jules groaned. “Ugh. Boring.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You deflected just enough to wriggle free, changed the subject, let the attention drift elsewhere. But even as the conversation moved on, something in you stayed stuck.

Because the truth sat heavy in your chest, pressing down harder now.

Your friends weren’t dumb. They’d figure it out eventually. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they will. And what then?

You hadn’t meant to pull away, but you could feel it happening. You texted less. Skipped the group chats more. Turned down plans with vague excuses. Not because you didn’t love them—but because it was easier to not be around them. To not have to lie.

And yeah, it was the guilt.

Not just because Vernon was Mina’s ex, but because it was all happening behind their backs. The secrecy made it feel worse. Like every kiss you shared with him, carved a little more distance between you and the people who used to know you best.

You didn’t want to imagine what they’d say. How they’d look at you. Whether they’d be angry, or just… disappointed. You didn’t want to imagine Mina’s face at all.

So you didn’t. You smiled. You laughed. You swallowed the guilt.

On one sunny Sunday morning, you were stretched out on a lounge chair, legs crossed, eyes fixed on the glistening ripples on the pool. Vernon lay next to you, arms behind his head, chest rising and falling slowly, with a small towel draped over his eyes to block the light.

“Are your parents away?” you asked, squinting at the house behind you. “I haven’t really seen them around.”

He hummed, slow and lazy. “Yeah. Dad’s busy with business. Mom’s a diplomat so she’s not around much.”

You nodded, letting that settle for a second. “Do you have siblings?”

“I have a younger sister. Sofia. She’s in high school back in Seoul.”

“Are you close?”

“Pretty much.” He pulled the towel down briefly to peek at you. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” you said with a shrug. “I’m nosy.”

He smiled faintly and pushed the towel back over his eyes. You watched the pool glimmer and shift in the sunlight. You picked at a thread on your cover-up. “It’s a nice house.”

“Yeah. A little sterile, though. My mom decorated it like a hotel.”

You gave a short laugh. “It kinda does feel like a resort.”

He hummed again. “No one’s around much anyway.”

Silence fell between you, broken only by the low splash of water against the pool's edge and the occasional rustle of leaves overhead.

You turned your head toward him. “You know… I ask a lot of questions.”

“Mmm?”

“You don’t really ask me much,” you said, watching him carefully.

Vernon peeled the towel off and cracked one eye open at you. “Huh. Yeah. I guess I don’t.” There was no apology in his voice. No defensiveness either. Just a simple sort of agreement, like you’d pointed out the weather.

You pushed up slightly on your elbow. “Why not?”

“I just… don’t ask a lot of questions,” he said with a shrug, propping himself up a little too. “I usually just let people talk and pick up on stuff naturally.”

That made your stomach twist a little. “So… you’re not curious about me?”

“It’s not that,” he said, glancing at you with a casual smile. He reached to cup your face, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before saying, “I like being around you. I don’t need to interrogate you to figure you out.”

You stared at him for a moment. He looked utterly at ease, like this was just another afternoon in a long string of afternoons. And maybe for him, it was.

But for you, it wasn’t. You wanted to be known. To be seen.

You tried to swallow the ache rising in your chest, brushing it off. “Right. I just—yeah, okay.”

He reached over absently, fingers brushing your knee. “I’m sorry. I suck at talking sometimes.”

You nodded. Smiled even. But your heart didn’t quite settle. Because he was right. He did suck at talking sometimes. But the problem was, you didn’t. You liked talking, you liked getting to know him.

And his indifference, for you, was starting to feel like rejection in disguise.

The days that followed were… good. Objectively speaking. Late brunches that turned into grocery runs that turned into him falling asleep on your couch while you watched something he picked but never finished. Evenings spent trying new recipes in his too-perfect kitchen, burning things, laughing about it, ordering pizza instead.

You had your routines. A shared toothbrush at both houses. A playlist that lived in his car, mostly because it was your Spotify account and you liked to DJ from the passenger seat. He never complained. He liked what you liked, or at least pretended to.

There were always the moments, too. The soft ones. Like when he laced your fingers together without thinking about it. Or when he reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear while talking about something completely unrelated. Or when he’d murmur, “Come here,” and pull you against him with a kiss that felt like it could break you in half. In the best way.

And still, you couldn’t stop your brain from running circles around itself. Because he’d say things like “This café’s got the best chai latte—I used to come here all the time,” and your stomach would drop.

Used to. With who?

He’d point at a movie on your screen and go, “Oh, I’ve seen this already. Mina made me watch it like eight times,” and not even flinch.

He didn't even seem to notice. And maybe that was what made it worse. That he could speak her name like it was just another fact. Like it didn’t send you into a spiral. Like it didn’t feel like being poked in a bruise you were trying hard to pretend didn’t exist.

You never told him when it happened. Never asked him to stop. You didn’t want to seem petty. You didn’t want to be that girl—the one who made everything about the ex.

But sometimes it would stick with you the whole day. Sit heavy in your chest like something sharp you accidentally swallowed. And you’d try to shrug it off while you were sitting across from him at a café, laughing about something stupid he said. Or in his bed, legs tangled together, your heart beating a little too fast, hoping he didn’t notice the way your smile faltered every time he kissed you and wondered if he was seeing you or someone else.

You hated how jealous you were. Not of Mina herself—but of the time Vernon had spent with her. How embedded she was in his life. How the memory of her clung to everything, like faint perfume on old clothes.

And the worst part? He wasn’t trying to hurt you. You knew that. He was just being Vernon. Which only made it harder to justify how mad you felt. Because how could you fault someone for not reading your mind?

“You okay?” Yuna asked, tugging you out of your musings.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Yuna didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t push. You were on campus, sitting on a bench seat at the quad, sipping your matcha when Jules and Mina strolled over mid-convo.

“—she looks like she’s going through something,” Jules was saying, phone in hand. “I saw her IG story. She bleached her hair again.”

“Again?” Mina snorted. “What is it with women and changing our hair every time we feel feelings?”

Yuna laughed. “It’s girlhood, babe. We don’t need a reason for it.”

“You know who else had a hairstyle change lately?” Vivi joined in, showing her phone screen for everyone to see. “Vernon Chwe.”

You almost spat your drink. Luckily, they were all too focused on Vivi’s phone to notice.

“Oh my god, he got a buzz cut?” Mina exclaimed, chuckling. “It looks good.”

Vivi hummed. “Yeah, well, he’s lucky he’s blessed with good looks. But it definitely looks like he’s processing.”

“Or that he’s moved on with his life,” Jules said matter-of-factly.

“What’s he even doing lately?” Yuna asked, turning to Mina. “Has he been trying to talk to you again?”

Mina shook her head, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “Nope. And thank goodness. We are absolutely, completely over.”

That should’ve been reassuring. Should’ve been your green light. But instead, you just sat there, fingers clenched around your cup. Mina didn’t sound hurt. She sounded like someone who had moved on. You should’ve felt relieved. Instead, you felt small.

The rest of the day passed in a fog. You made excuses to go home early, told Vernon you had to work on something, even though all you did was sit in your room, scrolling your phone and staring at nothing.

You hadn’t told your friends. You hadn’t told anyone. But now, even without opening your mouth, it felt like the secret was slipping out anyway.

And the worst part? You were starting to feel like you didn’t belong anywhere—too dishonest for your friends, too temporary for Vernon. Teetering, always, on the edge.

The annual interdepartmental sports meet was always full of energy and chaos in the best way. Overcrowded gyms, matching shirts in clashing colors, and a week’s worth of trash talk between departments that took themselves way too seriously. You weren’t exactly a hardcore athlete, but when your department needed players for the volleyball team, you and Jules had said yes before thinking twice. It was supposed to be fun. A way to bond with classmates and rack up a few points for team spirit.

But now, standing courtside with sweat already gathering at the back of your neck and nerves tying knots in your stomach, it felt bigger than that.

Because Vernon was there.

You spotted him just before warm-ups ended—seated halfway up the bleachers, water bottle in hand, eyes focused on you. He didn’t cheer or wave. He didn’t need to. Just knowing he was there made you happy.

On the opposite side of the gym, your friends were already making a scene. Mina, in her oversized jacket and Vivi in sunglasses, even though you were indoors, were yelling like it was the World Cup. The others were scattered around them, with poster board signs in hand. They had no idea Vernon was here. They probably spotted him, but they definitely didn’t know he was here for you.

The whistle blew, and the game began.

The PE department had always been a formidable opponent. Every serve they hit came in like a missile, and you were convinced one of their blockers had arms made of steel. Still, your team fought back—scrambling, diving, shouting encouragements across the net.

Vernon didn’t look away once.

You scored a couple of solid points—enough to get your friends hollering your name from across the court—and for a moment, you forgot about everything. The guilt, the secrets, the constant balancing act. All you cared about was the high of the game and the thrill of being seen.

But the PE team was too good, and the final set ended with their victory. Just like that, it was over.

You were still catching your breath when your friends swarmed you.

“You. Are. Insane!” Vivi said dramatically. “Be honest, you guys have invisible wings, don’t you?”

“No?” you chuckled, smiling apologetically as you watched Jules wipe her face when your sweat smeared her after a hug.

“But you girls were flying!”

“Yeah? Well, wings or not, we lost anyway,” Yuna pouted, shoulders sagging.

Mina rolled her eyes. “Darling, it’s PE. Athletics are rigged in their favor every year.”

“Or they’re just that much better than we were,” you said matter-of-factly.

Mina shook her head disapprovingly. “We’re getting celebratory boba anyway, win or lose.”

Their affection came in shouting, hugging, someone sticking a phone in your face for selfies. And in all the noise, all the praise, you glanced up toward the bleachers.

Vernon was already standing. He met your gaze across the gym and lifted his hand in a small wave. Your heart flipped. You wanted to run to him. To hear what he thought of the game, of you. But you couldn’t. Not here, anyway.

So you waved back, just once, hoping it said all the things you couldn’t say out loud. Then your friends pulled you in another direction and Vernon disappeared into the crowd, just like that.

You’d spent the whole day surrounded by friends, moving from post-game snacks to the campus fashion exhibit where Vivi was showing off her latest collection. The group had squealed and clapped when she won a prize, and you were just buzzed enough from pride and fizzy drinks to forget for a little while that Vernon was waiting.

But there he was, leaned up against the stairwell railing in front of your apartment when you finally got home. Hoodie, backwards cap, and a grin that’s smoother than butter.

“Took you long enough,” he said, stepping forward to help carry your tote. “Didn’t think watching models in boxy dresses would take this long.”

You snorted. “They were avant-garde, thank you very much.”

Inside, you kicked your shoes off and beelined for the bathroom. “Give me ten minutes to rinse off before I pass out,” you called behind you.

Vernon’s voice floated in casually. “Make it five. Any longer and I’ll assume you’re crying over your loss.”

You rolled your eyes in the shower.

By the time you emerged, skin damp and cozy in a fresh set of shorts and a cropped tee, he was sprawled on your bed, scrolling on his phone. He looked up the moment he heard you, his head cocking slightly as his eyes ran over your still-wet hair and bare legs.

You dropped down beside him with a dramatic sigh. “Everything hurts.”

“Your pride?” he chuckled. “Those PE girls are a different breed, it’s not your fault.”

“My back, you clown,” you muttered, flopping forward onto the mattress.

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t. You were all over the court.” He put his phone down and shifted closer. “Good thing I’m excellent at back rubs. Among other things.”

You turned your head to give him a look. “How excellent?”

“Guess you’ll have to let me show you,” he said, pushing you gently on the bed so you were lying on your belly.

He climbed over you, straddling your thighs as he pressed his hands on your lower back, kneading slow circles over your aching muscles. The pressure was good, soothing in the first two minutes, until you noticed his hands kept creeping under your shirt.

“I can smell your ulterior motives from here,” you said into the mattress, eyes closed and basking in the relaxing pressure he was putting on your muscles.

“Ulterior what?” he said innocently, still kneading with one hand while the other shamelessly cupped your ass.

You let out a soft laugh. “You’re such an animal. I should sue you for this.”

He leaned forward until his chest brushed your back, lips right by your ear. “Come on. Let me make you feel good.”

You could feel his hard-on against the back of your thigh, his breath warm on your neck. You gave a whine of protest, but it was already dissolving as he kissed down the curve of your shoulder, teeth grazing lightly, hands moving more intentionally.

“Turn over,” he murmured, voice a little rough now.

You obeyed without thinking, shifting under him until he was settled between your legs, tugging your shirt up and over your head. He looked down at you for a second, eyes dark with desire, but there was something tender there too. Admiration, affection.

“You really killed it today,” he said, thumbs stroking the skin just under your bra. “Even if you lost.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Were you even watching the game?”

“I was watching,” he grinned. “Not the game, though.”

Your forehead creased and he kissed that space between your brows.

“You in those shorts, jumping around? I almost embarrassed myself on the bleachers,” he added, grinding against you.

You gasped, smacking his arm. “Vernon!”

He caught your wrist, guiding it down between your bodies. “Here. Feel what you did to me.”

Your breath hitched as your hand grazed him through his sweats, thick and hard and hot under the fabric. You curled your fingers around him, watching his jaw flex as he pressed into your touch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as your hand started to move. “You’re not helping my self-control right now.”

You smiled, tilting your head up so your lips grazed his jaw. “Since when did you have any?”

That earned you a low laugh, one that vibrated through his chest as he tugged your shorts down your hips, leaving you in just your panties. He dipped his head to kiss your stomach, then lower, his mouth leaving a warm trail on your skin as his hands gripped your thighs to spread them apart.

“Were you thinking about this in the shower?” he murmured against your underwear.

You let out a breathy moan, fingers threading through his hair as he nuzzled you. “I was thinking about sleep.”

“Liar.” He grinned up at you, wicked and boyish, before dragging his tongue along the edge of your panties, making you twitch.

When he finally pulled them aside and licked a long, slow stripe up your folds, your back arched off the bed. His hands were firm on your thighs, keeping you open, keeping you still, even as you writhed. He worked you over with maddening control, slow flicks of his tongue, then deep, insistent sucking, then back again. You were already panting, hips rolling into his mouth, desperate for more.

“God, Vernon—” you gasped, fingers digging into his nape.

He hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your spine. One of his fingers slipped inside you, curling just right, and your breath broke. He added another, fucking you slow and deep while his mouth stayed busy, tongue teasing your clit until your thighs started to tremble.

“Come on, babe,” he whispered against you. “Let me have it.”

Your orgasm hit hard, blinding and hot, a shuddering wave that tore through you as you cried out his name. He didn’t stop until you were twitching, breathless, pushing weakly at his head.

He crawled back up your body, grinning smugly. “How’s your back?”

You were too dazed to answer, grabbing his shirt and yanking it up over his head. “Take your pants off.”

“Ooh. Bossy.” He complied without hesitation, kicking off his sweats and boxers. His cock slapped against his stomach, flushed, thick and already leaking. You stared for a second before reaching for him, but he caught your wrist.

He grabbed one of your legs, hooked it around his waist, and lined himself up. “Ready?”

You nodded, lips parted, and he slid in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open until he was fully inside. You clung to him, gasping into his shoulder.

“Fuck, you feel unreal,” he growled, holding still for a second as if trying to compose himself. Then he started to move.

His thrusts were deep and slow at first, but it didn’t take long for him to pick up speed. You locked your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, chasing that burn, that fullness. The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, of breathless moans, and the creak of your bed frame.

He kissed you between thrusts, messy, open-mouthed, like he couldn’t get enough. His hand found yours above your head, fingers lacing with yours as he pushed harder, faster, hitting that perfect spot over and over again until you couldn’t help but pull away from his lips so you could moan out of ecstasy.

“I love it when you make that face,” he panted, canine grin gracing his face. “Like I’ve got you losing your mind.”

You were losing your mind. You were close again, tighter and wetter and needier than before, every nerve ending on fire. You clutched his hand tightly, clinging into it like a lifeline.

“I’m gonna—” you barely managed.

“I know,” he murmured, biting at your jaw. “Come for me again. I’ve got you.”

And you did—body locking up beneath him as you came hard, muffling your scream into his shoulder. He followed with a low, broken groan, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, his whole body trembling with it.

He collapsed on top of you, panting, sweaty, and smug. After a few minutes of catching his breath, he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“How did you like my ulterior motives?”

You couldn’t even speak. You just let out a soft, dazed laugh, chest rising and falling beneath his.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he grinned.

You lay together on the messy bed, his arms wrapped around you while your head rested on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You could feel the sticky warmth between your legs, the light throb of overstimulated muscles, but none of it felt uncomfortable. Just, intimate. Like all of him was still inside you somehow, even after he’d pulled out.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured, lips brushing your forehead.

You hummed and closed your eyes. “Barely. You ruined me.”

“That’s my love language,” he said smugly, lifting your chin so he could kiss you.

Your eyes fluttered open. “You’re so annoying.”

He grinned. “You say that, but you never kick me out.”

“Because my legs don’t work right now.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You let out a quiet laugh, turning onto your side to face him. He looked like a handsome mess—his skin flushed, lips still kiss-swollen, and somehow, in this disheveled, post-sex haze, he looked lovely. Boyish. Completely unguarded. It made your chest ache with affection.

He stared back at you, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. “You were really good today. At the game, I mean.”

Your brow arched. “Are you saying I wasn’t good just now?”

“Hey,” he said quickly, laughter in his voice. “You were great just now. I’m still seeing stars. I’m just saying… I was proud of you. Watching you out there.”

The words hit somewhere deep in your chest, too warm, too sweet. You looked down at his hand, now resting over your ribcage. “You didn’t even sit on our team’s side of the court.

“Well, your friends were there. I thought you wouldn’t want me somewhere near them,” he admitted. “Since they don’t know about us.”

You nodded. You didn’t need the reminder. The guilt still lived under your skin like a bruise that hadn’t healed.

“I’ll tell them soon,” you said, mostly to yourself.

Vernon didn’t push. He just leaned in and kissed your temple. “Take your time. I quite enjoy feeling like someone’s dirty little mistress.”

You chuckled heartily, letting your eyes fall shut again, breathing him in. You stayed like that for a moment, pressed against him, warm and full but still not entirely at peace. His “dirty little mistress” joke echoed in your head. Not because it wasn’t funny—it was, in a Vernon kind of way—but because it reminded you of the reality you kept tucking under the rug. That this was still a secret.

“Hey,” you said after a pause. “Can I ask you something?”

He glanced down at you, relaxed. “Go ahead, baby. You always ask me something anyway.”

You ignored the tease. “What really happened between you and Mina?”

Vernon blinked, visibly surprised, but not thrown. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… why did you break up? Like, for good.”

He didn’t answer right away, and part of you hoped he wouldn’t. That he’d brush it off. But he didn’t.

He sat up a little, leaning back against your headboard, his hand sliding away from your waist. “We just… stopped making sense, I guess. At first it was great. But I kept fucking up. I wasn’t always present. She needed consistency, and I was all over the place back then.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“I didn’t even realize how much I was hurting her until she’d already started checking out. We kept going in circles. Break up, I try to figure out what I did wrong, get back together, repeat. I guess she got tired. By the time I got serious, she didn’t want it anymore.” He let out a laugh, one that was bitter and self-deprecating. “She said loved me. I loved her too. But love doesn’t mean shit if you don’t put in the effort to make it work.”

You watched the way his face softened, the way his gaze drifted toward something far away, something not in this room. You wondered if he even realized it.

“I used to wish I was better, you know,” he added quietly. “For her.”

Something twisted in your chest. You sat up, pulling the blanket to your chest even though you weren’t cold. “You still wish that?”

His eyes flicked to yours. “What?”

“For her. You still wish you were better for her right now?”

He blinked, confused. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what you said.” You tried not to sound hurt.

He sat up straighter, brow furrowed. “I know, but it’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I meant I used to wish I was— wait. Are we gonna fight about this?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I just—” You faltered, heart racing, lump forming in your throat. “I just wanted to know if you’re over her.”

“I am.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

“Because I said I used to wish I was better?”

“Because you said it like you still do.”

His expression hardened, just a little. “Baby, I told you, that is not what I meant. Hold on. You asked me to tell you. And now you’re mad because I did?”

“I’m not mad,” you said, voice rising. “I’m just— I don’t know. I thought hearing you talk about it would make me feel better.”

“Okay…? Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know, Vernon.” You laughed, hollow. “Maybe from me pretending not to notice that your whole life still has her fingerprints all over it.”

Vernon stared at you like he didn’t know what to say and that silence only made your chest ache even more.

“I knew I was a rebound,” you said, voice lower now. “I’ve always known. But I’m so tired of feeling like one.”

“Come on, you’re not a—”

“Don’t lie to me and say I’m not, Vernon.”

His brows pulled together, but he didn’t argue and just sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

He ran a hand on his head, frustration starting to leak into his voice. “You never said anything. You never told me it bothered you that I’d just gotten out of something.”

“Because I wasn’t even planning to date you, Vernon!” you snapped, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “You’re the one who had to go and make me your girlfriend. You didn’t even give me a chance to think about what any of this meant before it already meant something.”

That shut him up. Completely. He stared at you, lips parted just slightly, as if he’d been mid-sentence but forgot how to make a sound.

“Come on, baby,” he said softly, a bitter laugh escaping. “You’re acting like I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me,” you snapped. “You just… pulled me in so fast I didn’t have time to realize I didn’t want this.”

His expression cracked, like you’d just confirmed the worst thing he suspected about himself. “So what, this whole time you’ve just been regretting it?”

You didn’t say anything. You just looked at him. Steady. Honest.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “Got it,” he added, voice tight as he reached for his hoodie on the chair. “Loud and clear.”

“Vernon…”

“It’s fine,” he said, already walking toward the door. “You don’t have to explain.”

You stood too, blanket falling from your shoulders. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah. I think that makes two of us.”

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. The door clicked shut behind him.

The silence that followed was louder than anything you’d heard before. You stood there for a moment, staring at the door like maybe he’d come back, but the hallway stayed quiet. The echo of the door clicking shut still rang in your head.

You sank onto the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket around you again, but it didn’t help. You were still cold and it had nothing to do with your naked body and everything to do with what just left the room.

Your breath hitched as the first tear fell. Then another. And another. Until you couldn’t stop them, until your chest shook and your hand clutched the blanket like a lifeline.

You pressed your palm to your mouth, trying to quiet yourself, but it was no use. Your sobs still filled the entire apartment.

When you woke up the next day, your eyes were heavy and puffy. But you had classes later, so you tried your best to bring the swelling down and look completely normal. It worked; your eyes returned to normal, except for the redness on the corners that you couldn’t do anything about, no matter how much you tried.

And so you willed yourself to calm down, to face this day without the burden of the fight with Vernon weighing you down. To leave it all behind in the confines of your apartment.

But the moment you stepped into the deserted lecture hall where your friends were hanging out, you immediately felt the air around you change. Their attention immediately shifted to you, and you could already feel nervousness creep up your chest.

Vivi raised an eyebrow, her phone held up for you to see, and Mina—of course, it had to be Mina—was the first to speak.

“You and Vernon, huh?” she asked with a lilt in her voice, but you didn’t recognize that.

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t want to answer. Of all the timing in the world, this had to be the worst. You didn’t want them to know. Not like this. You were still spiraling from the fight with Vernon, trying to piece together what had just happened, and they were about to walk straight into the wreckage.

“Yeah, I’m seeing Vernon,” you snapped, more harshly than you intended. The words tasted bitter as you spat them out. “Mina’s Vernon.”

The moment you said it, it felt like the entire room was holding its breath. You could feel your palms sweating, your heart racing. They’d seen the Instagram story Vernon posted the day before. And they’d recognized you. It was so obvious, your reflection in the glass, the way you had been with him just the day before. But this wasn’t how you wanted them to find out. Not after the mess with Vernon.

“I didn’t want to tell you guys,” you snapped, the words tumbling out, sharp and jagged. “Because I knew you’d think I’m a terrible friend, that I’m some kind of asshole for getting with my friend’s ex. But I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, okay? It just did.”

You felt the words spill out in a rush, but it didn’t feel like relief. It just felt like more of a mess. More of a disaster that you couldn’t control. “I was just having fun with him, alright? But now it’s all complicated, and I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing anymore. So sue me for being an asshole!”

The group exchanged glances. Vivi blinked, clearly caught off guard, but instead of the judgment you had prepared yourself for, she just scoffed. “You’re not an asshole. Calm down. Geez.”

She walked toward you, cautious at first, as if she feared you might lash out, and gently patted your shoulder. “It’s no big deal, really.”

“It’s a bit weird, yeah, but what does it matter?” Jules chimed in, glancing at Mina. “They’re broken up. It’s not like you’re trying to date him while they’re still together.”

Yuna nodded nonchalantly. “No one thinks you’re an asshole. If it feels right to you, who cares?”

You blinked, caught off guard by her acceptance. It wasn’t exactly the response you’d expected, not the condemnation you thought you’d face, not the judgment.But it didn’t matter much what they thought. It was Mina you were more worried about.

Mina, who had been silent the entire time, stood up and without a word, pulled you into a tight hug. You didn’t know how long you stayed there, in the comfort of her embrace, but it was long enough for you to start crying again. She didn’t say anything else. She just held you, as though she knew something had happened, as though she understood that this confrontation was a result of all the emotions you hadn’t let out before.

When she finally pulled away, you saw the understanding in her eyes. “You alright, love?”

You nodded, still sobbing. “Are you?”

“I’m fine, silly,” she said softly, smiling. “You’re not the first person to date someone’s ex, and you’re not doing anything wrong.”

You expected to hear some kind of anger, some kind of hurt, but instead she just sounded resigned. After spending all those days worrying that you were a horrible friend, you needed more from her. You needed her to be mad, or at least to tell you that you were making a mistake.

“But... don’t you think it’s kind of—” You swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Mina, don’t you think it’s fucked up?”

She gave you an apologetic look, like she was trying to gauge how much of this you needed to hear. You saw her glancing over at Vivi, her face unreadable. “It’s not fucked up. If you’re happy with him, then you’re happy. I don’t see the point in holding on to grudges about who dates whom after a breakup. It is what it is.”

You could feel your heart sinking. The validation you had been searching for from her wasn’t coming. You almost wanted to scream at her, tell her she was wrong, that you had no idea what you were doing, that this was all so messed up. Everything felt like it was spinning out of control. And yet, she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t even mad. She was just unfazed.

And for some reason, that lack of anger felt like a thorn being plucked from your chest.

“Okay, girls, this is obviously something we need to unpack,” Jules said, slapping Vivi and Yuna on the back. “Let’s ditch class and blow off some steam.”

You chuckled bitterly, wiping your face as you tried to compose yourself. “Let’s not. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Jules shook her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “No, you’re not.”

Vivi scoffed lightly. “You’re just looking for an excuse to run off.”

After a round of glances and a half-hearted protest from Yuna about attendance, the group had collectively decided that, for the sake of everyone’s emotional well-being (read: yours), the day should be devoted to ‘girlhood’. No lectures. No readings. No pretending everything was fine when something had clearly almost rattled your friend group.

You wound up spending the afternoon doing what you always did when one of you was getting some drama thrown your way—retail therapy, greasy food, dumb photo booth pictures you’d all cringe at later. The mall wasn’t particularly exciting, but it was the place you and your girls were most familiar with. You tried on sunglasses you didn’t intend to buy, stole fries off Mina’s plate, let Vivi drag you through every store offering a SALE.

No one mentioned Vernon. No one had to. He wasn’t part of this detox, not part of this girlhood.

By the time evening rolled around, you’d collected a half-dozen shopping bags and a little more peace than you’d started the day with. The group voted on takeout from your favorite Korean fried chicken restaurant and decided to eat it at your place.

“Honestly, can’t remember the last time we hung out at your place,” Vivi said as she linked her arm around yours, peeking at your face with narrowed eyes. “I wonder why...”

Jules smirked. “It’s the boy, obviously.”

“Did that dude have you on lockdown?” Vivi asked, not even trying to be subtle.

You rolled your eyes, shifting the paper bag in your arms. “It’s not like that.”

But the teasing stopped as soon as you turned the corner onto your street. Because Vernon was there. Sitting on the steps outside your building, hoodie on, elbows on his knees, and eyes on the ground. He looked up at the sound of your voices and immediately stood.

You froze, the breath catching in your throat. Your friends didn’t.

“Absolutely not,” Vivi snapped, stepping in front of you before you could say anything. “Turn around.”

“What are you doing here, Vernon?” Mina added, moving to block his view of you.

“I just wanna talk to her,” Vernon said, hands up like he knew exactly how bad this looked.

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” Vivi grimaced, feigning an apologetic look. “We have a thing and you’re not invited.”

You could see his jaw tighten at that, but he didn’t argue.

“Go home, Vernon,” Mina said. “Maybe use this time to reflect, yeah?”

Vernon sighed. “How do you know this is my fault?”

Mina shrugged, glancing briefly at you. Vivi replied, “Doesn’t matter whose fault this is. It was you who made her cry. We don’t want you here.”

“Guys, this is between me and her, please.”

Your friends all turned to you with inquiring looks, suddenly making you feel nervous. You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled. “Let’s go inside, girls.”

Vivi didn’t move until you did. Even as you stepped forward, she stayed close, her arm brushing against yours like a silent signal: “Just say the word, and I’ll swing.” Before trailing after the others, she paused just long enough to glance at Vernon over her shoulder.

You didn’t look at him. Not once. Just kept your eyes on the entrance, heart hammering, keys slipping slightly in your sweaty grip as you ushered the girls inside and shut the door behind you.

And for a while, everything felt normal again.

There was fried chicken on the table, open soda cans scattered across every surface, and someone had put on a feel-good playlist that kept the room alive with laughter and off-key singing. You danced barefoot on your living room floor with Yuna, both of you losing it over Vivi’s ridiculous two-step. Jules was perched on the back of your couch like a cat, chewing on a piece of tteokbokki and pretending to be unimpressed with everyone’s moves. Mina laughed so hard at one point she had to clutch her side and collapse onto a throw pillow.

You didn’t know who brought him up first. Maybe it was Jules, maybe it was Vivi throwing a not-so-subtle glance your way when the laughter finally began to quiet down. Either way, it was inevitable. You’d made it through the mall and dinner and two hours of messing around in your apartment without saying his name—but that silence had started to feel loud.

“So… Vernon,” Jules said, curled up on the far end of your couch, chopsticks dangling between her fingers. “Are we gonna talk about it or keep pretending we didn’t see the human roadblock outside earlier?”

You sighed, resting your chin on your hand. “There’s not much to say. We hooked up once, drunk, and it just kind of… kept happening. We were dating, I guess.”

“Just like that?” Vivi frowned. “He broke up with Mina, what, two seconds ago?”

“Exactly.” You let out a humorless laugh. “He said I wasn’t but I really felt like I was a rebound. Like he was just killing time with me until he figured his shit out. He didn’t ask questions about me, didn’t really seem interested in the things I liked. He said he liked being around me, said he liked me a lot and stuff—but it never felt like he was trying to know me.”

You sighed slowly, heart lighter now that you were able to talk about this. But there was something still catching in your throat. Something you couldn’t say. That it wasn’t just about how he acted—it was how you felt every time Mina’s name came up in conversation, or worse, when it didn’t. Like you were constantly living in the shadow of a relationship that you hadn’t witnessed but couldn’t stop imagining.

You didn’t say any of that. Your damn pride wouldn’t let you.

There was a pause. Yuna blinked and said, “Well, shit.”

“I mean,” Jules began slowly, “that’s valid, babe. It makes total sense you’d feel like a rebound. The whole situation was set up to make you feel that way.”

“He probably has commitment issues,” Vivi added with a scoff. “That or he didn’t take it seriously from the start. Not even trying to know you? That’s a red flag. Come on.”

But Mina, who had been quietly picking at the leftovers of dinner, surprisingly had other opinions.

“Vernon’s not really like that,” she said calmyl. Not defensive, not biting—just honest. “He’s not big on questions. He gets to know people by doing things with them, being around them. Not through twenty-questions or late-night heart-to-hearts.”

You glanced at her and it was Jules who asked, “So he’s not deep?”

“No, he is,” she said. “He just doesn’t show it the usual way. It took a while before I realized he liked me back then. He’s spontaneous. And he doesn’t like wasting time on things that don’t matter to him. So if this was just a rebound… that would actually be kind of weird for him.”

That made your chest tighten. The way Mina talked about him like she really knew him. Somehow, you thought it would be painful, but instead, your heart was tightening for an entirely different reason.

Affection, and pride. Like a mom hearing other mothers praise your child for being well-behaved and smart.

“But,” she added, tone shifting slightly, “he does love bomb a little. When he’s into something, or someone, he throws himself all-in, fast. And sometimes it fizzles out just as fast. So maybe you’re right. Maybe it was temporary. But only Vernon knows how he really feels.”

There was a second of silence. Yuna finally muttered, “That’s so frustrating.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled.

Still, you appreciated Mina’s honesty. Her ability to speak about Vernon without bitterness, even if part of you wished she had been bitter. You wished someone had been angry enough to make you feel like you weren’t just spiraling alone.

“You want me to tell you something?” Jules said sternly, pointing a fork at you. “You deserve better.”

“Hear, hear!”

You knew that. You didn’t need people to tell you. You were smart enough to know you deserved better. That you shouldn’t be in a relationship if it feels unstable and uncertain.

But what use is better if Vernon is all you want? If, despite everything, you still wanted to be with him?

You could unpack this with your girls, knowing they’d have enough angles and perspectives for you to help make a decision. But you didn’t wanna do that because this was something you had to figure out on your own. This was something only you and Vernon could talk about. This was between the two of you.

And your friends were good. They didn’t push further. They let you rest your head against the couch cushions again and made plans to sleep over next weekend. Normal things. Safe things.

And then, it was time to go. You walked them downstairs, one by one, clinging to the lightness you’d clawed back during the day. But the second you stepped outside, that lightness evaporated.

Because Vernon was still there.

Sitting in the exact same spot, hoodie pulled up, expression unreadable in the glow of the streetlights. He stood the second he saw you. You could hear your friends making surprised sounds and murmurs around you.

“You’re joking,” Vivi said flatly.

He didn’t speak. Just looked at you as if he couldn’t see anyone else.

“Should we stay?” Mina asked quietly, her fingers brushing your arm.

You hesitated, then nodded. “No. It’s okay.”

The others weren’t so sure. Jules gave Vernon a sharp look. “You sure you don’t want us to stay?”

“It’s fine,” you said again, firmer this time. “Really.”

With reluctance and a few more side-eyes at Vernon, they said their goodbyes. Vivi mimed her two-finger “watching you” gesture.

Jules even pointed at Vernon’s feet and said, “Stay,” like he was a dog.

And then, finally, you were alone with him. He didn’t speak right away. Just stared, like he wasn’t sure you’d come out at all.

“I didn’t know if I should wait,” he said eventually. “But I didn’t wanna leave without trying.”

You stepped out, slowly. “Okay. Try.”

The wind blew and the cool air made you hug yourself. It was getting late and the night had gotten colder. You wondered how long he was waiting there. Had he really been sitting there the whole time?

“Can we talk inside?”

“No,” you replied before you could even think about it. “I don’t trust myself to be alone in private with you right now.”

“Right, I understand,” he nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Um, that night, when we fought… I, uh… I shouldn’t have left like I did.”

He paused, eyes softening as he met your gaze. “It’s just, when you said you didn’t want… this—” he motioned at the two of you— “us, dating. It kind of got into my head. I was a little upset because I thought I dragged you into something you didn’t want and that everything that happened was just…”

He paused again, looking away and then chuckling in a self-deprecating way. “Anyway, I don’t wanna make excuses. Point is, I understand now why you were upset. Why you felt like a rebound and what I did… and didn’t do to make things better. I understand the Mina thing. I understand why you thought I didn’t like you enough because I didn’t ask much about you but…”

You raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

“But you were wrong about something,” Vernon said, stepping closer, his voice low, not pushing, just stating a truth. “ I know you. We haven’t been together long, but I’ve known enough about you.”

He paused, glancing up like he was searching for the right words. Then, almost awkwardly, he started counting off on his fingers.

“You hate ketchup. Like, viscerally. You always wipe it off your burger before eating it. You set three alarms every morning but never wake up until the fourth, which is somehow always a voice memo of you yelling at yourself to get up.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “You like watching horror movies but always cover your eyes during the scary parts. You don’t like soda but you always steal sips of mine.”

You felt yourself go still. Not because he was saying anything particularly grand, but because it was clear—he’d been paying attention. More than you thought. Maybe more than you let yourself believe.

“You read too fast and finish books in a day, then spend the next three days depressed about it. You dance in your seat when your food’s good. You always fall asleep during car rides unless you’re the one driving. You get quiet when you’re thinking too hard. You ramble when you’re nervous.” He smiled faintly. “Like on the day of your volleyball tryouts. You talked about how avocadoes are a scam.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “They are though. Four bucks for something that goes bad in a day.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “Point is, I notice. I might not ask a million questions about your childhood or your star sign, but I see you. And I like you. A lot.”

He stopped, letting those last words sink in. His eyes were on you, not pleading, but open and vulnerable.

“I’m not gonna promise you anything I’m not sure I can keep. But I know I want you. I know I care about you, and that’s not just me saying it because I’m scared of losing you, even though I am. I just…” he sighed. “I don’t want this to be over before we even tried, baby.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just watched him, arms crossed, heart thudding in a way you were trying hard to ignore. Because you wanted him—but you weren’t sure if you could trust him yet. Or yourself, for that matter, to stop letting your insecurities eat at you.

But you didn’t tell him any of that. Instead, you turned away, slowly walking to your door.

You unlocked it, paused with your hand on the knob, and glanced back over your shoulder. “Are you just gonna stand there all night?”

Vernon blinked. “No, I… um, I’ll leave you alone if you want me to.”

You huffed, stepping just inside the doorway. “Come on in,” you said simply, not looking at him. “It’s cold and you’ve been sitting out here like an idiot all night.”

It took him a second, but then you heard his quiet footsteps behind you, following you in.

Inside, you paused in the middle of your apartment, took a slow breath, and turned. Then you threw yourself into his arms. Vernon nearly toppled over, but managed to steady you, arms wrapping around your back, one hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his chest, sighing like it physically hurt to get the words out. “I overreacted. Got a little over dramatic. Just… got in over my head.”

Vernon shushed you gently, kissing the side of your head and tugging you closer. “Don’t be sorry. I get it. You can be a little crazy sometimes, and I think I can deal with that.”

You pulled back just enough to smack him lightly in the chest. Vernon just chuckled, throwing his head back before pulling you back into his arms.

“I’m kidding, baby. It’s not your fault,” he said, nose brushing your temple. “I missed you so much. You had no idea.”

You rolled your eyes despite the flutter in your chest. “Liar. It hasn’t even been a full day.”

“You sure about that?” Vernon murmured, pulling back just enough to kiss your forehead. “Felt like five weeks.”

You scoffed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the girl who cried when I left,” he chuckled, “even though she’s the one who picked a fight with me.”

You tried to pull away again, but he tightened his hold. “Don’t worry about it. I like my women emotional.”

You groaned, letting your forehead fall against his chest. “Shut up or I’ll kick you out for real.”

“Please don’t,” he replied, arms still wrapped tightly around you. “I missed you too much.”

You didn’t respond, just closed your eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart. For a second, neither of you moved. The room was warm, and so was he. And even if you were still a little mad, and still a little scared, it felt good to be in his arms again.

He lifted your chin up, gaze dropping to your lips, then back up. “Can I kiss you?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you said, before pressing your lips to his.

He kissed you like he meant it. Like he missed you. Like he was trying to remind you of every reason you’d let him in to begin with. His hands moved up to cradle your face, gentle, a little desperate. Yours were still fisted in his hoodie, keeping him close. Just in case he changed his mind. Just in case you did.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you a little breathless and grinning, he rested his forehead against yours.

You didn’t believe in neat resolutions. Relationships didn’t fix themselves overnight, and a kiss wasn’t a magic bandage for everything that had gone wrong. Maybe nothing would change. Maybe you’d still fight, still misunderstand each other. But for now, your walls were down and his arms were around you.

And that was enough. You weren’t going anywhere. Not unless one of you said it was over.

“I’m still mad at you,” you whispered.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t,” he murmured back, brushing your cheek with his thumb before leaning to kiss you again.

[fin]

#vernon smut #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #vernon fanfic #vernon x you #seventeen x you #vernon scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt vernon #hansol x reader #hansol x you #hansol vernon chwe #calcali

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foreingersgod · 1 year ago

Text

You (on my arm) . CH

pairing: caroline harvey x reader

synopsis: cute moments with kk throughout your relationship!

A/N: this came out kinda shitty, but i promise i’ll have better kk content coming haha

I wanna sit around and watch you do your hair

“you’re so pretty,” caroline sounded from the doorway of the bathroom “d’you know that?”

it was nearing 6:30 am on a friday morning. you hated getting up early with every fiber of your being, wanting to stay wrapped in caroline’s arms for as long as you could. but today, she had an away game, causing the both of you to pack an overnight bag and make an excruciatingly long drive.

you quite honestly looked a mess, dressed in your comfy clothes and your face decorated with the smallest amount of makeup. your hair was a disaster as you brushed it out, trying to style it in a somewhat presentable manner.

“shut up,” you laughed, looking at her through the mirror. she looked so good, also in her lazy day clothes as she leaned against the frame of the entry way, arms folded across her chest. she looked you up and down, smiling adoringly “i look like a disaster”

“not to me,” she came up behind you, moving stray hairs away from you neck so she could rest her chin on your shoulder. her hands planted themselves on your waist “you look gorgeous no matter what”

you turned your head, planting a kiss to her temple, humming against her skin. she sighed as she gave a gentle rub to your hip.

“love you” she mumbled, voice muffled by your sweatshirt.

“love you more” you confessed to her like you had a thousand times before. she was your person, your everything.

Talk it all into the ground

Have a ceremony there for something, don't know what it'd be

you were sprawled across the grassy meadow, long green blades standing tall, surrounding your body. your sundress rode up your thighs a bit, sneakers kicked off somewhere next to you. your arm was outstretched to your left as your hand fit snuggly into caroline’s. she laid next to you in the grass, smiling at you past the scattered flora. you looked radiant like this: skin glowing and sunkist, hair descending down your shoulders and onto the dampened earth beneath you, teeth sparkling as you let out the most infectious laugh.

she sat up, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on her hand as she stared down at you. her free hand maneuvered over to toy with the hem of your dress, fingers gliding across the soft material.

“i’m gonna marry you one day, i swear”

your cheeks burned from the sun, growing even hotter as she said that. there weren’t enough words to describe how caroline made you feel, so appreciated and wanted and loved. you had every intention of marrying her. although for now it would have to wait, you hated the idea of planning things and balancing school and a job and a full on wedding at the same time. but you both knew, without having to say it, that it didn’t matter if you married or not. the love was there all the same.

“one day,” you mirrored her movements, also rolling to your side “and i can’t wait for that day”

But it'd become nothing, it's nothing

And you'd smile at me

you had done it. through all the last minute study sessions, stressful midterms, and the nights spent crying at the kitchen counter as caroline rubbed your back sympathetically. you had finally graduated college. it was a beyond thrilling moment to slip on your gown and bobby pin the unflattering cap to the top of your head. just thinking of walking away with your degree made your stomach ache with excitement.

your high heel clad foot bounced against the floor as you stood in the long line. the room felt hot and crowded while you waited to make your way across that stage and get your degree. in the distance, the boom of the microphone could be heard echoing through the stadium as the names of the graduates were announced. with each passing moment, you were getting closer and closer to your turn. the hundreds of faces sat in the stadium made its way into the view as the line slowly inched forward. you strained your neck looking around the different sections, trying to find caroline’s familiar face.

unfortunately, your parents and the rest of your family couldn’t make it to this huge milestone in your life. you had gone no contact with the majority of them a while back once they ‘disowned’ you. when they found out you were dating caroline, a girl, they were furious and couldn’t stand having a daughter that followed such a lifestyle. your sister was the only one you stayed in contact with, but she was studying abroad and couldn’t make it back to the states in time to see you graduate. you were absolutely gutted about the whole situation.

but caroline was there for you through it all. sat with you while you sobbed the day before graduation because it was all settling in. she assured you that, even though it wasn’t the same as having your parents and sister there, she was going to be there front and center to watch you succeed. caroline was by far your biggest supporter, your rock through everything. you couldn’t believe you had gotten so lucky with someone so attentive and prideful towards you.

so as you finally reached the front, body shaking with excitement, your eyes bounced around all of the smiling faces. it was only when you handed the announcer your name card, taking your first steps onto the stage, you saw her. she was beaming ear to ear as she locked eyes with you. she had her phone out, ready to record her gorgeous girl accepting her degree. caroline had dressed up just for you, sporting a navy blue dress shirt and slacks to match the colors of your university. she watched as you accepted all the hand shakes, posing for pictures with the dean, and evidently walking off that stage with that cherished piece of paper.

you walked off the stage and started to make your way back to your seat to finish out the rest of the grad ceremony. you looked over to her, finally able to get a clear look at her face. you gave her an excited wave, showing off your degree to her. she clapped for you and blew you a kiss, still smiling as brightly as before.

‘i love you’ she mouthed ‘i’m so proud’

and you smiled, mouthing back to her with tears in your eyes ‘thank you’

I wanna be, I wanna buy you pretty little things

And never ever lie to you

“what’s all this?” you asked, stepping through the door into your shared apartment with caroline.

you had gotten off of work quite upset, driving home with irritation coursing through your veins. you got called in for a so called ‘emergency’ even though you had requested the day off for yours and caroline’s anniversary. in reality, it wasn’t an emergency, rather your boss just needed someone to run errands for him. your girlfriend was so sweet and had planned out the entire day to celebrate, you were in a bad mood the whole day wishing you could just got back home.

but when you walked through that door at around 7pm, the scent of pine wafting around the kitchen, your heart melted. a bouquet of your favorite flowers sat upon the marble countertop, a neatly sealed letter leaned against the vase. there was a small box that also sat next to it with a baby pink ribbon tied around it. caroline stood from where she was previously sitting on the kitchen stool, coming over to greet you.

“just wanted to do something since you had to work today, s’all” she shrugged, pulling you into her by your waist as you set your stuff down on table “happy anniversary, baby”

you felt like you could cry, tears welling up at your lash line. you had felt horrible for spoiling the day by going into work, but caroline was so sweet and understanding and always made sure you felt seen.

“caroline, you didn’t have to do this!” you gestured to the flowers and box, leaning in to smell the flowers “i spoiled our anniversary, i don’t deserve this”

“don’t be ridiculous, you didn’t spoil anything” she kissed your cheek, you could feel her lips curl against your skin “and of course you deserve it, you deserve the world. now open your gift!”

the small ribbon glimmered underneath your dim kitchen lights as you ran your fingers over it. you looked at her with a skeptical face, smirking slightly when she laughed at your expressed. she urged you on, promising that you would like the small little present. you untied the ribbon excitedly and lifted the lid carefully.

sat on a small bed of tissue paper, was the most beautiful charm bracelet you had ever seen. you instantly pulled it out, putting it up to your face to see it closer. it was only when you had gotten a closer look that you had realized what it was.

when you met caroline, you noticed she had always worn a small little bracelet on her left wrist. she told you about a month into your relationship that it was something she’s had since she was a kid, a way to keep important memories close to her. you adored the thing, always asking about the charms that she added and what her favorite ones were.

the bracelet she had gotten you was a near exact replica of hers. it shared a few of the charms that hers held, ones that you said were your favorite. but it also had several new ones. many came from the vacations you and caroline took together, others she bought because they reminded her of you, and one that had both of your initials in a heart. it was by far the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever gotten for you.

“caroline,” you exhaled, completely blown away “baby…i don’t know what to say”

she laughed, taking the bracelet from you and grabbing your hand. she delicately wrapped it around your wrist and secured the clasp. she pulled you in for a passionate kiss, wiping away the tears you seemingly couldn’t stop shedding.

“i hope you like it,” she said “i just know how much you like looking at mine and so i thought-i don’t know maybe it’s silly, but i thought you might like one of your own so we can match”

“of course i like it” you shook your head, looking back at your wrist to admire the charms “this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me…thank you so much, babe”

you spent the rest of that night on the couch, curled up into her side with a glass of wine as caroline explained each and every detail of the charms she picked out. she watched as you giggled at every fond memory she took inspiration from, noticing how you ran your fingers across the intricate designs of the little pieces, thinking about how much she loved you.

Watch you get dressed

And compliment your taste

she laid on your side of the bed, extended horizontally so that her stomach stretched along the width of the bed. her elbows were propped up to support her head as she watched your gorgeous figure from across the room. at first she was scrolling mindlessly on her phone to pass the time until you were ready to leave for your guys’ date, but now she was beyond distracted.

you emerged from the bathroom, hair done up and makeup dewy, walking over to your walk-in closet. you wore nothing except your nude bra and underwear, rushing around frantically trying to pick out an outfit. caroline was practically ogling at you, drooling at the sight.

“is this cute?” she had snapped from her trance when you came out, holding up a yellow dress to your body “i don’t know i can’t decide”

her eyes flickered back forth between your stressed expression and the frilly, lacey dress that had previously been tucked in some corner of the closet. she had seen you wear it a few times, remembering how much she loved the neckline and the way it flowed gracefully down your thighs. in truth, she loved everything you owned no matter what it was. she thought you looked good in everything.

she grinned at you, wanting to scream from how beautiful you looked “yea honey, that looks perfect”

“are you sure?” you asked again. she knew you liked things to be perfect, wanting to look your best for outings and such. but caroline always thought you looked your best no matter what “is it too fancy or anything? i don’t want to look like an overdressed loser or something-”

“hey,” she interrupted, making you quiet down and take a deep breath “you’re gonna look amazing, ok? you could be wearing a paper bag over your head and you’d still turn heads”

“you’re too sweet to me” you said rushing over to press a small kiss to her forehead before scurrying back into the closet to change. caroline observed you through the small crack you left in the closet door. not in a lurking way, she just wanted to appreciate her girl.

she bit her lip as she watched how you shimmied the dress over your hips, how you stuck your tongue out as you tried to zip up the back, and how you ruffled up your hair in the mirror probably a dozen times before deciding you were ready. then you waltzed out, just as beautiful as you were before, grabbing your bag and ushering her off the bed. you kissed the back of her hand as you interlocked fingers, making your way out the door.

man, she had really hit the jackpot with you.

…I'd be better armed

If you agreed to take it <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#Spotify #foreingersgod #caroline harvey #kk harvey #caroline harvey x reader #kk harvey x reader #wlw imagine #wlw #lesbian imagine #lesbian #pride month #hockey #women’s hockey

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cautious-soup · 3 months ago

Text

Bully!(Only I make you like this) Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Part 1

CW// Noncon, degredation, physical abuse, implied choking, destruction of personal property :( Satoru isn't very nice, ooc Satoru Gojo in that he's an evil bastard

Summary: Satoru has lots of fun at your expense, and tries not to think about his feelings.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤

Satoru never had a hard time talking to people. Most considered him easy to talk to, pleasant. He was a little baffled, honestly, to see just how differently other people were treated compared to him, but it made sense. He was amazing, after all.

It was because of this that he never had any trouble getting into your dorm building.

"Hey, my bad I forgot my key, can I go in after you?"

Like usual, the person nods and lets Satoru in without a second glance. He hums on the elevator up to the 4th floor, gets off, and strides to your room.

He knocks three times, and when you don't come to the door, he sighs and texts you.

Satoru: let me in

Y/N: Im not here, go away

Y/N: *there. Im not there, so leave

Satoru: lolololol

Satoru: hey this is actually a great opportunity for me to show u something

You squint down at your phone in confusion, then panic when you hear a key turning in the door. Sure enough, Satoru walks in like he owns the place.

"These hard keys are really outdated huh?" He says, "Such a security risk, waaaay to easy to make copies," he twirls said copy around his finger, and you sag in defeat.

"You hurt my feelings Y/N," Satoru sighs, "I mean, lying, really? You don't wanna see me that bad?"

"I wish you were dead, that's how much I don't wanna see you," you say. It doesn't matter how you provoke him, it'll be awful either way.

"Aaah, such a rude thing to say," he says, "Now I'm real hurt, Y/N, and the only way I can feel better is if I hurt you back,"

Your breathing quickens. Scooting back on your bed, you squeeze your eyes shut as Satoru closes in on you.

Then, your door opens again, and you nearly sob with relief.

"Oh!" Your roommate tilts her head at Satoru, "Woah, aren't you on our basketball team?"

You can see Satoru's jaw tick, and you scramble for a response.

Getting out of bed, you smile at your roommate, "Hey! Are you headed to the library? I was just about to go myself, wanna head out?"

Your roommate looks between you and Satoru, "Um, if I'm interrupting--"

"No! No no you're not interrupting anything, come on, if we hurry we'll be able to grab smoothies on our way there,"

As you both stand in the elevator, your roommate peers at you curiously.

"Was it ok just to leave him in there like that?"

You shudder, but play it off as a laugh, "Yeah he uh, the library's crowded so he wanted to use my room to study hahaha,"

"...so why'd you suggest going to the library then?"

You give an answer so half assed you don't even remember it. As you stiffly walk towards the exit, your phone buzzes.

Satoru: ur so funny

Satoru: dw ill getcha next time 👍🏻

Satoru: its gonna hurt btw lololol

Satoru pocketed his phone and hummed. He'd gone through the trouble of learning your roommate's schedule, but evidently that wasn't enough.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤

He did, in fact, make it hurt.

It was as if all of the effort he'd ever put into anything was focused down into the singular purpose of wrecking you.

Your grip on your sheets slackened as Satoru caged you in from behind, draping himself over you.

"Tired already?" He asks, you feel the heat of his words against your cheek, "I've got plenty of time, Y/N,"

But not enough.

Lately, Satoru's been making up reasons to see you. It was getting close to midterms, and he told himself he'd be done by then.

Really, he just expected to get bored with you.

But you kept giving, kept feeding something inside of him he didn't even know needed to be fed. Every time you whimpered, cried, begged, pleaded, and bled for him, that odd chasm in his chest shrunk just a bit.

You shudder as Satoru noses the damp nape of your neck, and wait for it to be over.

Some time later, Satoru's phone buzzes.

Sho: party's lit

Sho: u still coming?

Satoru pants, running a hand through his hair and sitting up. You shift on your mattress, turning so you're on your back, and stare up at him.

Satoru tapped his fingers idly on the side of his phone. He looked down at it, then down further at you, at your puffy eyes, at your hair splaying over your pillow, at the bruise around your neck.

Satoru: nah. u guys have fun tho

Tossing his phone aside, Satoru resumes, grabbing your hips and sinking inside of you. You whimper, and he's thankful it's too dark for you to see his eyes rolling back into his head.

"Hngh, nnf, ugh,"

Satoru grins at your blubbering, leaning down to lick up the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Better hold on tight babe, I'm nowhere near done yet," he whispered.

Your bed frame rocked against the wall so hard that night, you knew it would be impossible to explain away the noise tomorrow.

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What would be the appropriate reaction to losing a laptop with years' worth of essays, creative writing pieces, poems and school projects, and watching it sink to the bottom of a duck pond?

You're not sure, you honestly can't react at all.

Satoru is laughing his ass off next to you, still holding your bag and letting the remaining contents fall to the ground. He reels his arm back and chucks your bag into the pond too.

"Heehehehe, oh man, I wish I could keep that look on your face in a bottle," Satoru panted, trying to catch his breath.

You make a lot of expressions that he likes. Sometimes, when he's bored in class or with running drills on the court, he'll cycle through them in his head.

Lips pursed and brows furrowed means you're thinking about how to solve a problem (and Satoru isn't a problem that can be solved.)

Eyes wide and lips slightly parted means you're scared. He always loves making this look melt into one of anguished pleasure, tears streaming down your cheeks, lip bitten raw, eyes squeezed shut.

But he realizes something in that moment, watching your bag soak up the dirty pond water and start to sink.

He looks over at you, at the expression on your face--or lack thereof.

He's never seen you smile before.

Sure, he stalked your friends' social media (you don't have social media) and saw the group photos you took with them, saw your smile, but you never smiled around him.

He looks over at the pond, then back at you.

Maybe you're ticklish.

He tries it the next time you're under him, your bra pushed up and your panties around your ankle. He grins when you're off guard and runs his hands over your sides.

You stare incredulously at him.

"Eeh?" He pouts down at you, "You're not ticklish at all?"

You scoff, "Sorry, being bullied and sexually assaulted regularly doesn't really put me in a laughing mood,"

Satoru sneers, "Kch, ok. I guess all that's left is for me to put you in an even worse mood then huh?"

Unsure of what sore spot you hit, your pussy endures another hour of being well and truly fucked.

And when you think he's done, Satoru heaves you up by your thighs and walks across your room to the full length mirror propped up by the door.

You gasp, impulsively covering your face with your hands, but Satoru drops you to your feet, grabbing your wrists with one hand and keeping them twisted behind your back.

"You're going to look," he murmurs lowly. You meet his blue eyes peering over your shoulder in the reflection, "You'll look, and you'll see what I do to you,"

You sob as Satoru grabs your chin and forces you to look at yourself, he realigns himself with your entrance and starts punching moans from your throat. You struggle against his grip, but he tightens his hold, and fucks you harder.

Eventually, you're begging. You're humiliating yourself and begging to cum, each thrust leaving you dumber than you were before.

"See, there's no need to act all high and mighty Y/N." Satoru purred, turning your chin to face him, "In the end, you're nothing but a dick hungry whore,"

You sag against Satoru as he slots his mouth against yours, letting his tongue past your lips. The ensuing orgasm lights up your entire nervous system; it almost hurts.

Satoru lets go of your wrists and lets you drop to your knees in front of the mirror. You lay on the floor panting, vaguely registering the sound of rustling clothes.

Satoru appears in front of the mirror again, tidying up his hair and tugging his shirt down, before turning and leaving your room.

"See ya around," he says without looking back.

You stare at the door in silence.

Part 3

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A/N: Hello! Sorry if any of this is formatted weird, I just decided to do everything on my phone this time lol. Hope you all enjoyed reading this :)

190 notes · View notes

atinystraynstay · 1 year ago

Text

Off Limits - Jeong Yunho

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Synopsis: Going to college for you was very serious. Nothing could stand in the way which meant often rejecting social events and saying no to anything to risk. That was until you met Yunho, someone you would risk it all for.

Pairing: College!Jeong Yunho x fem. reader

Genre: mutual pining, strangers to friends with benefits - MINORS DNI

Contains: mentions of celibacy, mentions of alcohol consumption, nudity, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), dirty talk, slight begging, protected intercourse, characters losing their virginity, orgasm

Note: based on a request from @jonghoslvt ☆ no joke, I adore you and never thought you'd take up my offer. I really hope this doesn't disappoint because I literally fell in love with the idea the moment you hit my inbox

Word Count: 7.8k

"But y/n, it's not even a frat party," your best friend whined. "Yeah! We're too old for that anyways," your other friend chimed in.

You currently found yourself in a standoff. At first, you had situated yourself in your bed with your textbooks to have a quiet night in. Your friends, however, took it upon themselves to propose an alternative idea. One that you often rejected.

"Are you forgetting that we have midterms next week? I would like to start spring break stress-free."

Your entire life has been focused on going to college. If asked about your childhood, you would always recall how happy you were growing up. But you never overlooked the sacrifices your parents made for you. Going to college was never realistic or them, so they worked overtime I order to provide you with the opportunity to live a better life than they ever got a chance for. Their struggles were something you can never ignore, which made you want to work hard to make them proud.

And since getting to college, it was about doing well to be able to show them why their hard work was worth it. You also had a personal goal of being able to afford to repay them for everything.

To get to that point, that meant often saying no to social obligations so you could study. Your weekends often looked like you were crammed in the library. Or, if you needed human interaction, propping yourself at a coffee shop to mix in with the crowd.

Breaks were the opportunities to let loose and have a little bit of fun. Yet, your breaks often looked like doing work for internships. Now that senior year has arrived, you are also adding in time to scroll through LinkedIn and Indeed for potential job openings

"Y/n, I adore you, and what a little studious bookworm you are. However, it is senior year. We have less than 3 months to make stupid decisions before adult obligations. There is also the chance we might not be living even in the same state or country! Do you really want to live life only when we come to visit or you visit someone else?"

You never went to a frat party. You never had a random hookup. You always played things safe.

You couldn't help but let out a sigh as you gazed down at your lap where your textbook rested. She had a point. While you were very excited about being that true adult version of you, you weren't ready for the hard parts of it like no longer living with your best friends or really having little interaction.

"And I'll tell you what. We don't have to stay all night. If you get overwhelmed or are over it, we will come straight home and watch Love Is Blind."

You perked up at her compromise. When you looked up, hopeful eyes were staring back at you before you silently nodded. That was enough to send them into squeals and start to drag yourself out of bed.

What were you getting yourself into?

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Little did you know, across campus, a similar debate was going on.

"Guys, I really don't like house parties like that," Yunho huffed. "And how do you know if you've ever been?" Mingi challenged him.

Yunho couldn't help but narrow his eyes on his best friend. He had a point, but damn, did he hate it when he was right. Out of the two them, Mingi was the more social one. Before a party was finalized, Mingi was already receiving texts about the details so word could spread like wildfire.

On the other hand, Yunho often opted for quiet nights in. He would spend nights either gaming with Seonghwa or drinking at home with a few friends. What was the point in going to a house party when they already had beer in their apartment?

There was also a part that loved hearing Mingi's retelling of what went down. Yunho simply didn't like parties, the situations that could arise from consuming too much alcohol, and the morning recovery.

"You owe me!" "For what?!"' "I mean," Mingi began. "I am your best friend. I'm sure you owe me something!"

Yunho rolled his eyes but couldn't fight the smirk curling onto his lips. It amused him greatly the antics Mingi always tried getting into, and how he basically became a whimpering puppy for attention.

"What will you do for me if I go?" Yunho challenged. "I will literally never ask you to come out again if you absolutely hate it. Or I will do all the chores in the house for the next month."

That caught Yunho's attention instantly. He liked to consider himself a very clean man, never knowing who might step into their humble abode. However, Yunho still liked to maintain a welcoming household and seemed like he had things together. First impressions mattered the most to him. And it was no secret Mingi often dirtied up any clean space, no matter how recently Yunho finished cleaning.

"Wait? Are you being serious?"

With Mingi cleaning, that meant that Yunho could just spend time the way he wanted to - playing video games and chilling with his friends. Yunho definitely was a person who liked being around people, but he didn't like situations that could get messy quickly. Hence why there was a slight aversion to going to parties where things could go 0 to 100 too quickly.

At home, Yunho was in control. He was the mood maker who kept a warm, welcoming environment. That meant one that was clean and safe for everyone. An oasis from the chaos of university.

"I'm dead serious, Yunho." "Deal!"

Little to Yunho know just how overwhelming the atmosphere would be. Even though Yunho certainly liked making memories with his friends, he was almost intimidated. All around him were drinks being passed left and right, not even knowing what was in the drink but it made his noise scrunch up as all he could smell was cheap perfume and alcohol. It practically burned his nostrils.

"Relax, Yunho," Wooyoung laughed. "You are about to give away that you've never had pussy before."

Yunho's head snapped towards his younger friend, a look of shock on his face. "Do you ever not think with your dick?"

"Will you ever sleep with someone? Come on. You're in college. Make a bad decision." "I'm fine with sticking to this one," Yunho sighed.

It wasn't that Yunho didn't want to have sex. However, he knew just how special being intimate with someone is. What mattered to him was waiting for the person he felt like he could be that vulnerable with. Just finding a random person and doing it sounds disgusting. Not how he wanted his first time go.

Nobody has caught his attention yet.

"Oh ease up, Yunho. Woo just is looking out for you," Mingi laughed. "But if you do find someone, bedrooms are open upstairs.

I think I'm going to be sick.

"Well, to be the bearer of good news," Jongho called out. "It seems like Yunho has a pair of eyes on him."

What was he talking about?

Slowly, Yunho looked over his shoulder whereas his friends seemed to wipe their heads around. Way to be subtle. There was this pattern that always occurred where girls seemed to have taken an interest in Yunho, but he never reciprocated. He was just content with the way things were in his life - no drama, no mess.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight behind him. There's no way.

Yunho has seen you around campus before. The two of you have never had a class together, seeing as your respective programs were in two different buildings. Yet, there were always ways you two crossed paths. You were heavily involved on campus or often in the library studying. Yunho did frequent the library, but if there was no immediate open spot available, he would leave. He always thought you were cute, but the opportunity never presented itself where he could make a move.

He didn't quite think that asking someone, a complete stranger, out on a date in the library when they were obviously busy was romantic.

To be honest, he never saw you as a party girl. You were often studying out of your mountain of textbooks or typing like your life depended on it on your laptop. He adored that side of you. When your hair was pulled back and your glasses framed your face, highlighting your big eyes.

Tonight, you opted for a different look. You ditched your sweats for a short black skirt that had a small slit on the right side. You wore a white shirt but that was mostly hidden underneath the leather jacket you wore. Your hair was downing loose curls. Your makeup also looked like it was light, but he was drawn to your cherry red lipstick.

I wonder if it also tastes like cherries.

Yet, tonight, you seemed like you had no agenda. Your eyes did glance in his direction, followed by whispers and giggles from your friends. To say his interest was peaked is an understatement.

You were someone who caught his attention. And his friends seemed to notice.

"Hey y/n," Mingi called out.

Yunho's head immediately turned towards Mingi who wore a smirk on his face. He wouldn't.

But it was too late. Mingi was already halfway across the room to greet you and your friends. And Yunho was hot on his trails.

"See you finally are breaking out of the library to join the rest of us," he commented.

You rolled your eyes before greeting him with a hug. Of course, Mingi knew you. He knew everyone. How did you two meet though? You weren't an ex-girlfriend or else you would have been over to the dorms. And you had a face that was impossible to forget. Maybe Mingi got tutoring from you?

"Don't hold your breath, Mingi. I was offered an out if I want to take it," you warned.

Your voice was just as angelic as Yunho imagined it. You often studied alone, unless you were shoved into a group project by your professors. Hearing how you speak made his heart flutter.

"Well maybe I can offer a reason to stay?"

You tilted your head in confusion. Mingi nodded over his shoulder which caused you to instinctively look over.

Everything else froze the moment your eyes met. It was like a scene from a romantic movie where the lights highlight the dream girl, music fades out. Nothing else matters at the moment besides you.

"Y/n, I want you to meet my best friend, Jeong Yunho. Yunho, be nice. This is y/n."

I was brought back to reality by Mingi gently patting me on the shoulder and giving me a slight shove. Luckily, I was quick on my feet to prevent myself from stumbling into this girl and making a fool out of myself. The wouldn't be a great first impression.

By your body language, Yunho could tell that you were out of your element. But so was he. Your eyes bounced around as you noticed your friends and his had left the two of you alone.

"Why don't we head out of here? Maybe go to the kitchen? Away from the crowds?"

Your eyes instantly lit up at his offered. The sight of you feeling relieved made Yunho felt proud, but also served as a motivating factor to ensure you always felt that content especially around him.

With a hand on your lower back, Yunho escorted you two out of the main part of the house. His eyes flickered all around to see where there were less people. However, people were playing drinking games in the kitchen. He glanced down at the cup in your hand to see you still had something to drink. The stairs, on the other hand, were vacant.

"Come on, let's go upstairs. I've been wanting to get to know you, y/n," he confessed.

Instantly, you felt your cheeks heat up. You nodded before following Yunho's lead. Your friend groups watched almost in astonishment at how quickly things progressed. Mingi was the proudest, as he played cupid after all.

As the two of you descended up the stairs, you could hear the bass of the music from below but could not quite make out the words. The loud conversations faded out to where you could just hear the footsteps of you and Yunho. You swore though you could feel your racing, and you were nervous Yunho could hear it too.

He flashed you a warm smile as he began trying the doorknob on the first door he saw.

"Occupied!" Someone shouted from within. The two of you felt yourself get hot in the face.

Quickly, he maneuvered the two of you to the bedroom across the hallway. Luckily, the door was slightly cracked and lights were off. An indicator that it was unoccupied. And to confirm, Yunho stepped in first by gently pushing the door. He let out a sigh of relief as there was no one.

"Perfect. Now I can actually get to know you."

He wanted to know me? The girl who is always studying?

He stepped out of the doorway, his back against the bedroom door to allow you inside. You thanked him with a soft smile before stepping into the room. You did notice he closed the door but also left it unlocked. It honestly made you feel a bit safer just by his gentle gaze and consideration.

Whenever you've seen Yunho walking around campus, you've always taken note of his soft aura. Maybe that's why it was so easy to lean into the potential friendship with him.

You found yourself walking into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your hands flattened out the skirt so it covered a bit more of your legs. Yunho joined you, keeping a bit of space but nothing too much. Just enough so you could speak one another but be respectful and mindful of your own personal space.

"I'm surprised to see you here tonight," Yunho commented, a smile still on his lips. "You just never seemed to be the party girl." "You know me already," you laughed. "I'm honestly not but my friends want to make lasting memories before graduation," you explained.

Yunho couldn't help but chuckle which caused you to raise an eyebrow. He quickly cleared his throat, a light hue coating his cheeks.

"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It just seems that our friends are in the same mindset since that's why I got dragged out of the apartment tonight." "I guess it isn't so bad now that I'm here with you."

You swore that Yunho's cheeks got darker. You also noticed how his smile widened to the point his eyes became hidden. He was just too adorable.

"So mystery girl knows who I am," he chuckled again.

God, his laugh was so infectious. I could just sit hear and listen to it all day.

"And I'm surprised my campus crush knows even who I am." "Oh? I'm your campus crush?" He smirked.

Now it was your turn to blush a bit. Damn, caught red-handed.

"Well yeah. I've seen you all over with Mingi or when you are trying to study in the library. Guess you could say I've always been curious."

Yunho's ego soared. He didn't come here to get lucky, but he was. He felt as if he had one the lottery.

"There's something else I've been curious about," he admitted.

Your upper body had turned towards him. The moonlight shining from the window made your eyes sparkle. It was as if you had the whole universe in your eyes. Your head was tilted slightly, a habit Yunho was quickly learning about you and equally adored.

One hand remained at a respectful spot in the space between the two of you. Yet, his right hand reached across to cup your cheek. His thumb caressed your cheek affectionately as your eyes widened slightly. Yet, your body felt relaxed underneath his touch.

He never wanted to take things too far, but a little kiss never hurts, right?

"Is it okay if I kiss you, y/n?" He whispered.

Your name coming from his lips sent butterflies in your stomach. "Yes," you whispered back.

He offered another gentle smile before he leaned in to press his lips against yours. His lips felt soft and gentle as he didn't want to pressure you to kiss him back. But you would be a mad person if you didn't. You matched his tempo, allowing him to lead the kiss.

Tiny electric shocks were sent throughout your body. You couldn't help but allow your arms to wrap around his neck, which gave him the green light to move his hand off the bed to your knee. His warm hand caressed your exposed skin.

"I like the feeling of your hands on me," you murmured against his lips.

Fuck, Yunho, you're in trouble. Your statement made his brain all fuzzy. Yet, he didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He was almost positive you meant innocence in your statement.

His hand moved from your knee to your hip where he lifted you with ease. You gasped softly, pulling back from the kiss. You never expected him to be so strong! Your mouth was slightly open as you were positioned on his lap.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Yunho said. "Did I move too fast?"

You turned towards him and shock your head. Your heartbeat was felt throughout your whole body. If it was anyone else, you might have gone running out the door by how overwhelmingly intense the moment felt. With Yunho? All you wanted was to stay.

"No, this is perfect," you confessed. Your one hand stayed wrapped around his neck, your fingers running through your hair. "Is this okay? I mean, I've never done anything like this before. I don't just kiss cute boys who I barely now."

Yunho couldn't help but smile softly at your sentiment. You were too sweet. "Well, maybe we can become more than strangers?" His hand caressed your side affectionately, easing any nerves left in your body.

"I'd like that," you whispered.

You were about to go in to kiss Yunho again when the bedroom door busted open. You gasped as Yunho gently moved you off, shielding your body. The people who busted in just gasped before quickly closing the door behind them, muttering apologizes.

Way to kill the mood.

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That was three weeks ago. Yunho and you kept in good contact, especially now that Mingi prided himself in bringing two of his favorite people together. Even though you and Yunho were as far from being a couple as anything else. If anything, you two were beginning to deepen your friendship.

Yunho now had a reliable person to study, with who would keep him accountable for actually getting work done. And you had someone who made life fell less lonely.

And it was a bonus that each study session ended with a makeout session at your apartment. It was almost a ritual between the two of you. At the end of the night, Yunho would make sure you had eaten before walking him. You would then offer to come in for some water or coffee, depending on what else he had going on in the evening. Which were ultimately excuses to go to your bedroom.

Never before had you felt so safe with someone. Yunho looked after you, which honestly blew you away considering how new the friendship was. Yet, for Yunho, taking care of you was a duty. Even if you weren't official, he always wanted to make sure you knew someone was looking out for you.

That was as evident as ever when you two were behind closed doors. Light kisses led to light touches. His hands often wondered to your lower back, maybe underneath your shirt to cup your bra-covered breasts. Your hands would fall on his chest, sometimes down his abs towards where his belt was. Kisses on your lips led to neck kisses then to hickies which your roommates teased you relentlessly about.

Nothing more though. You had told Yunho that you were always anxious when it came to sex. You didn't want to jeopardize everything you worked for. And Yunho always respected that, especially since he was waiting for the right person. He didn't want to regret something so meaningful. And you respected that too.

Yet, you couldn't ignore your own urges anymore. There was something powerful between the two of you. You just weren't sure how to tell Yunho how you were feeling without scaring him off.

The past three weeks have been the time of your life. He made you feel warm and fuzzy, as if you were the main character in a Nicholas Spark's novel. And Yunho felt like he was on Cloud 9 with you. He never wanted to lose that feeling.

Buzz buzz

You were currently in the kitchen of your college apartment, slicing up an apple and peanut butter. A favorite study time snack of yours. Your eyes warned over to see Yunho's name flash on your phone which instantly brought a smile on your face.

"Oh! Y/n must be talking to Yunho," your roommate teased.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile growing on your lips. Yeah, you were down bad for him.

"Hey pretty girl, what are you up to today?" "Not studying! I got everything done." "So you have time for me?"

Your smile grew wider at his text. You literally felt your heart flutter.

"Maybe.. is it worth it though?" "Oh darling, don't you worry. I'm going to make sure you feel on top of the world." "Where are we going?" "My place? 7pm?"

You glanced at the time at the top left corner of your phone. 5:41pm. Not much time to get ready.

"Anything I should bring over?" "Just yourself. It is all I need."

Lord have mercy.

Your snack was long forgotten as you ran up the stairs. The excitement about seeing Yunho, being alone with him drove you in ways academic achievement and goals accomplished never could.

You wear wearing a loose sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. Nothing too suggestive but also easy to remove. You never wanted to go in assuming any situation, but you couldn't help but be hopeful. Your roommates also noticed your change of perspective since Yunho came into your life. They liked seeing this side of you - the side where you were allowing yourself to enjoy life rather than focus on work and outcomes.

"Make sure you say hi to Yunho for us," your one roommate teased as you rushed to grab your wallet and keys. "Should we expect you tonight or tomorrow afternoon?"

Your cheeks were a bit red, not from embarrassment. There was not one ounce that was ashamed to be so scandalous with Yunho. Maybe it was because it was your little secret, the part of your that you were allowing to flourish for the first time, that was being exposed. While you weren't sure if you and Yunho would be anything more than friends, you were safe to say you were no longer strangers.

"I'll just text you guys when I'm heading home," you laughed, trying to ease your own nerves. Yet, you felt all the butterflies in your stomach which mad you jittery.

"Oh, no need. We have your location, y/n." "Creeps," you huffed. "Or just care about your well-being! But we also know Yunho will take care of that part."

I need to get out of here. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was 6:47pm. Yunho was just a 5 minute walk away from your apartment, so you were in no rush but any excuse to get to Yunho quickly.

"Hey, I'm heading over now :)" you texted him. "Can't wait to be with you."

You waved goodbye to your roommates who sounded off in encouraging cheers. You shook your head playfully before walking out the door to Yunho's apartment. With each step, your heartbeat is faster and louder. He had you wrapped around his finger and you didn't even know how to tell him.

"Hi pretty girl," Yunho said, answering the door. His height always left you breathless. You knew you were down bad when his height is something you adore. He was dressed in a grey sweatshirt with a yellow smiley face in the middle and black sweatpants.

Gently, he stepped out of the way to allow you to enter. You smiled appreciatively before walking in and slipped off your shoes. Mingi was in the kitchen, wiping down the countertop after dinner assumedly.

"Hey y/n. I'm about to head out!" He exchanged a look with Yunho, but you were too hyper-focused on Yunho's hand on your lower back. You could basically turn into Jell-o. "I'll see you around," he snickered.

"Bye Mingi," Yunho muttered. His demeanor softened when he turned towards you though, offering that gentle smile that makes you want to do anything he says. "Wanna go up to my room?"

You nodded before taking the lead. You've been all too familiar with the staircase that led up to Yunho's bedroom. Each time you walked in front of him, Yunho struggled. He surely had the best view in the world but wanted to do his absolute best to remain respectful.

Once you arrived in his room, you were a bit taken back. This wasn't the usual setup. You were much accustomed to the floor lamp being on, his laptop ready for a movie.

Tonight, the no lights were on. Instead, he had lit a few candles that were new additions to the top of his dresser. It created a glow in the room that was warm and welcoming. It also had a smell of vanilla and cashmere, two of your favorite scents. He was a good listener. Soft, sensual music was playing in the background from the speaker by his desk.

You stepped into the room but didn't go to the bed this time. You turned towards him, keeping a bit of distance but yearning to be close to him.

"What's all this for, Yunho?"

He loved the way his name sounded from your lips. It sent shivers down his spine. He smiled gently before taking a step closer, closing the door behind him. Once again, he didn't lock it right away. Yunho was the exception in a world of boys where he was a gentleman. He always offered you an out, always a way to leave if you so choose. Yunho never placed expectations on you. He followed your lead.

"Y/n," he began. One of his hands gently reached out for yours, fingers gently wrapping around your own but not quite holding it just yet. It was endearing. "You mean so much to me. I mean, I've always been mesmerized by you, but I never knew someone could have such a large impact until you came into my life. I've never wanted to open up to someone the way I open up to you."

Your eyes widened slightly, stepping even a bit closer to Yunho. Your mind was jumping to conclusions but you did everything to stay calm.

"There is just something special between us, angel," he whispered. His hand fully slipped into yours as the other gently moved to hold your hip, keeping you close. His touch was gentle yet firm, almost as if he was begging you to say but also allowing you to move if you desired. "You complete me in ways I never imagined. Both emotionally and mentally, and our physical connection is something I'd like to explore more."

Oh my god.

"I understand if maybe that's something you never wanted with me but-" "But just kiss me. Please."

His eyes now widened this time. You were biting your lip gently as you gazed up at him with your big doe eyes.

Come on, Yunho. Get it together.

No longer hesitating, he leaned in fully to press his lips against yours. His hand squeezed your hip affectionately. Unlike the other times he's kissed you, this was more passion. He had a certain level of assertiveness that made you melt. Your hands moved from holding his to resting on his chest and the other on his arm.

With ease, Yunho picked you up which caused you squeal. He pulled back from the kiss to look up at you. You noticed this time his gaze was a bit more seductive which made you feel all tingly.

"Oh darling, I'll get you squealing for another reason soon enough," he promised you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist. You knew he'd never let you fall, so your action was more to lure him in closer. His hands moved to hold your ass, giving a playful squeeze which indeed sent your squealing again. Even though the sensations were newer to you, it felt so good when it was Yunho touching you.

Gently, Yunho tossed you on his bed. Your sweatshirt moved a bit to expose your midriff. Your hair was sprawled out on his comforter. And with the glow from the candles, Yunho swore you looked angelic.

"You can say no at anytime, darling," he promised you. His voice was in a soft tone but firm. This was serious for him which made your heart swell.

"I trust you. This is new for me too, but I want to experience it with you."

At first, he remained standing at the foot of his bed. Just enough so he could slip his own sweatshirt over his head. You couldn't help but stare at his exposed chest. He was built so beautifully.

Yunho noticed which caused him to smirk. Not wanting to be apart from you any longer, his hands gently then moved to your exposed skin. "What do you crave first, darling? I want to make sure you're all wet for me."

His words caused your cheeks to warm up tremendously. Your brain was all fuzzy just coming to realize this was actually happening. You were about to have sex with Yunho, your campus crush. This felt just too good yet nothing extraordinary has happened yet.

"Could you eat me out? I've always wanted to know what it feels like," you confessed. "Your wish is my command, princess."

His hands moved from your hips to the waistband of your leggings. He glanced up at you once more to make sure you were comfortable and okay with proceeding. You couldn't help but giggle before running your hand through his hair comfortingly, giving him the nod he needed.

"So gorgeous, y/n, baby," he murmured. His lips kissed the exposed skin of your tummy before both of his hands began to move your legging dow your legs. "You look amazing in these leggings, but I'm so honored to be the one to take them off of you." His eyes then noticed the pink lace panties that you were wearing underneath. A tiny bow was in the front which made his mouth water.

You shivered as his hands gently began to tug off your panties. It was a bit chilly in the room for which Yunho smiled apologetically.

"I'll warm you up in no time, darling." "I have no doubt, baby. I know you always look out for me." "Always," Yunho vowed.

With your leggings and panties on the floor, Yunho crotched in front of you. His hands rested on your knees gently, thumbs caressing the outer part. He was a bit surprised how you opened them almost automatically for him, but he was overjoyed to know you wanted this just as much as him.

His cock twitched at the sight of how wet you already were, a slight glisten already noticeable. "My baby girl needs me, hmm?"

"I like when you speak to me like that," you confessed, letting out a shaky breath.

Yunho moved your one leg over his shoulder as the other rested on your thigh. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable. "What? You like knowing that I want you all to myself? That I want to be selfish?"

You were propped up on your elbows, gazing down at him. Your teeth were sunk into your lower lip in anticipation. All you could bring yourself was to nod in confirmation.

"Well, y/n, sweet girl. You are mine. You've been mine since the party, so don't doubt it again."

His tongue then licked a long strip along your pussy up to your clit. You let out a loud gasp, head tilting back. His hot breath hit your pussy causing you to shiver and spread your legs a bit wider, offering yourself completely to him. He hummed in satisfaction before letting the tip of his tongue circle your clit.

Your back arched slightly off his comforter. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let yourself immerse fully into the pleasure.

He loved the taste of you. So sweet. His tongue ventured up and down your pussy before sticking into your tight hole. You let out a soft moan. It was music to his ears, knowing that he was capable of making you feel so good.

His cock was hardening by the sounds you were making. Twitching and began for attention. Soon though, he would get the relief he's always fantasized about.

You were his main priority though. He wanted this to be just as special, as meaningful for you as it was for him.

He pulled back which made your head snap down. Yunho couldn't help the small pout that formed on your lips. "Don't worry, darlin'. I'm not going anywhere." His lips began to press kisses into your thighs as his one hand left your knee to gently trace along your pussy.

"Is it okay if I finger you, angel? Just want to make sure you're stretched out for me. Don't want to hurt you."

His speech was a bit slurred, almost as if he was drunk off the taste of you.

"Please. I want to feel all of you, want to feel of this for the first time with you."

Yunho leaned down to kiss your thighs. He moved his kisses towards your clit. He could imagine the feeling might be a bit uncomfortable for you at first, so he wanted to help ease you a bit.

When his lips met your clit, he kissed it delicately before wrapping his lips around it. He began sucking on it which had you moaning sweetly. He couldn't help but smile before sliding one finger into you. His eyes looked up at you to see your mouth slightly open. Yet, your body remained relaxed on his bed.

He moved his finger in and out of your pussy slowly. He let out a groan at the feeling of how warm, how wet you were. You just felt so inviting it sent him into a frenzy. He craved more that he was struggling to hold himself back but he knew all good things come with time. His cock was straining against his pants painfully.

"I'm going to add another, sweetheart, okay?" He murmured against you. The vibration of his voice against your pussy caused you to whimper out in euphoria as you still nodded your head.

"Can I hold your hand, baby?" you begged softly.

Instantly, his free hand left your thigh to rest against the comforter for you to hold. He didn't need to be told twice. Whether it was for reassurance or to feel close to him, he would do anything for you.

Slowly, he slipped another finger into you. This time, at the feeling of how full you were, your body tensed a bit. Yet, Yunho kept his fingers still inside of you. He didn't want to rush in as he kept his gaze on you. Feeling your fingers slip into his hand, he squeezed your hand reassuringly. And this time, you squeezed back. "Keep going. Please."

His fingers moved slowly. He couldn't help but stifle the moan from his lips as he wanted to suck on your clit a bit harder, to make sure you were still feeling good. When you started moaning again, he began to curl his fingers gently into your g-spot. That made you moan louder than before, an encouragement for Yunho to proceed.

He then began to spread his two fingers apart, stretching you out properly. Your eyes widened, your breathing becoming shaky and shallow.

"Speak to me, baby girl. How does this feel?" "S-so good, baby." "Tell me what you need." "You. Please." "How do you want me? You've already got me. Right here, angel." "I want you to fuck me."

His fingers stilled inside of you as he pulled back from your clit. He looked up at you as he knew there was no going back. He knew he wanted to continue, but he just wanted to make sure you weren't too caught up in the moment. He didn't want you regret such a vulnerable moment with him.

"Are you positive?" He asked in a gentle voice. "I've never been more sure of anything."

Slowly, his fingers slipped out of your pussy. You whimpered at the lose of contact but quickly moaned when you saw his fingers enter his mouth. He sucked on them gently, humming against his digits. You've never witnessed something so attractive before. Your cheeks were flushed at the sight too.

"So delicious, angel. Thank you for letting me have a taste."

Now standing fully at the end of his bed, his hands moved to undo his belt and unzip his pants. Your eyes widened when you saw the tent in his pants. You couldn't believe he got so turned on by tasting and touching you.

Seeing the effect you had over him made you feel powerful.

Noticing you were staring, he winked at you. "You are the only one with this effect over me. Only one I ever want." His belt clinked against the floor as his pants soon joined, exposing his grey boxers. He was so hot. Does he even know that? You were going to move up to offer to jerk him off or suck him but he stopped you before your upper body could even leave his bed.

Did you do something wrong? You frowned a bit as your eyes quickly landed on his. Was he regretting going this far with you?

"Tonight is all about you, sweetheart." "But I want to make this special for you too," you frowned. "You just being here is enough to make this special. I promise."

You were a bit hesitant, wanting to be insistent on making him feel good. But with the look in his eyes the lustful gaze, you knew it was not a topic up for debate. You settled back onto his comforter as he moved to grab a condom from his bedside table.

He was a man prepared for any scenario. Whether it be one of his friends needing a condom or when a moment like this finally presented itself.

His boxers soon joined the floor. His cock instantly slapped against his abs. You noticed the veins running around the sides and the angry red tip, begging for attention. You made a mental note that you just had to suck Jeong Yunho off.

He grabbed the gold wrapper to tear it open. His right hand grabbed the base of his cock to hold it still as his left hand skillfully slipped the latex on. It just made his cock glisten, make it more appealing.

Finally, Yunho joined you on the bed. His knees rested in between your legs to keep you spread for him. His one hand rested by your head as the other cupped your cheek. You felt his forehead press against yours but not once did he look away from you.

"I mean it when I say we can stop at any point, angel. Just say the word." "Yunho, you're too sweet to me but I need you."

You needed him. God, his eyes nearly rolled at the words you spoke.

He pressed his lips to yours for a moment. Even the room felt hot and heavy, he wanted to remind you just how important you were to him. You kissed him back for a moment until you felt his tip against your pussy. He kept his gaze on you, wanting to make sure you were okay with what happened.

"You ready?" "Yeah," you breathed out.

As slow as ever, Yunho pushed his tip into you. You bit you lip as you kept your eyes trained on him. It felt familiar, just like when his fingers entered you. You nodded slowly before he began to push more of himself into your pussy. His head nearly rolling back at the feeling of how warm and tight you were around him. "Fuck," he breathed out.

The sound of you letting out another whimper caused him to snap back to reality. He frowned when he noticed the tears in your eyes.

"Oh angel," he whispered. He didn't dare move another inch. This wasn't about his pleasure, this was about you. "What's wrong?" "It's just a lot," you confessed. Salty tears began to leave your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. "Do you want me to stop?" "No, no," you begged. "I just need a moment."

Yunho nodded understandingly. He began to press soft kisses along your cheeks, your nose - anything to distract you from the pressure and temporary pain. He wanted to kiss you fully but he noticed you were breathing in deeply, trying to collect yourself and he didn't want to be inconsiderate.

"Take your time," he whispered. His hand moved to wipe your tears. "I go when you say go. I stop when you say stop." You took in another deep breath, really being able to feel how deep he was as your puss instinctively gripped his cock. He bit his lip to not moan, not wanting to do something that pressured you to say go.

However, in the few seconds of regulating your breathing, the pain began to feel like pleasure. It felt good. It was an odd feeling for sure, but one you wanted to continue with.

"Yunho?" you called out gently.

He pulled back so he could look into your eyes. His lips were curled up into that signature soft smile.

"Keep going. Please."

His eyes were trained on yours, almost as if he was looking for any hesitation. Yet, when he didn't see any, he nodded his head gently.

Before continuing to slip himself into you, he offered his hand for you to hold again. He really was a gentleman. Your fingers instantly slipped into his and you gave him a reassuring squeeze. That's all Yunho needed to continue slipping into your pussy.

Your breathing hitched again, but you remembered to breathe through it. And while it was a bit uncomfortable, it wasn't as bad as when you two started. You moaned when he eventually filled you completely.

"You okay, darling?"

He kept still but you could feel all of him inside of you. You felt so close, so vulnerable with him. It was overwhelming in the best sense.

"Never been better," you breathed out.

Satisfied, he began to retreat his hips before thrusting into you. Your head rolled back against his pillows and he rolled his head back at the feeling. "God damn," he breathed out. "You feel so good, angel. All for me."

His thrusts were slow at first, at an even pace. He was treating you as if you were the most delicate thing in the world, something that needed to be fiercely looked after. And while you might have enjoyed the sentiment, you just needed him.

"Baby, go faster, please." "Fuck, are you sure? If you say yes, I might not be able to hold myself back anymore." "Let loose, baby boy." That's all he needed to hear. His hand planted firmly on the space by your head, his other hand still holding yours. However, his thrusts became quicker, became deeper. It was as if something primal took over him.

Your moans were louder as you felt all of him entirely with each threat. He was so big, so thick. He filled you up just so heavenly, in ways you couldn't describe besides perfection.

"That's it," you whined out. "Right there, baby." "God, I could die a happy man this way."

You couldn't help but giggle as you moved your free hand to rest on his shoulder. Your fingernails dug slightly into his skin which seemed to send him pounding deeper into you.

The sound of wet skin slapping made him nearly delirious. He never imagined this would be happening especially not with you. Yunho truly won the jackpot. He watched as your eyes rolled back, your cheeks a light pink color. Your lips were slightly parted as you moaned without any control.

"You're so gorgeous, y/n."

Your walls began to tighten around him, a fire-like feeling taking over your stomach. His jaw was clenched, almost as if he was concentrating. You were a bit curious but began to notice the veins protruding out of his forearms from how hard he was thrusting.

You began to put the dots together.

"Are you close, baby?" "So fucking close," he huffed out. "Are you?"

His eyes were practically glued on you. All to make sure you felt on top of the world. He loved knowing that you two were sharing this experience together. The grip you had on his shoulder further encouraged him to give you everything he had.

No room to hesitate or overthink. "Yeah," you whimpered.

Sweat was beginning to coat his skin. You early drooled at the sight of how delicious he looked. How did you get so lucky?

"Let go, y/n, baby. I'm right there with you."

With one particularly hard thrust, you lost it. You felt like you were being sent into another dimension but the intensity of your orgasm. Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling as you truly believed you saw stars. Your legs shook slightly as Yunho groaned loudly, spurting his hot cum into the condom.

The heavy breathing from the two of you filled the room. The world outside of his bedroom seemed so far away as you felt so consumed by Jeong Yunho. You wouldn't want it any other way.

His cock started to soften inside of you but you two couldn’t bring yourselves to move. Your arms moved to wrap around him softly as he laid gently on you, keeping you close.

There was no other place you wanted to be. I guess sometimes you do need to take a risk and do something that might seem like it is off-limits.

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m4iya · 4 months ago

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⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 Order up! Strawberry green tea, 100% sugar, 50% ice and rainbow jelly for anon!

Cat Therapy Kuroo Tetsuro (fluff, high school, childhood friends)

"So? How was it?"

"...Failed."

Your slumped head, exaggerated sigh and inability to form a comprehensive sentence already told him all he needed to know.

"Come on, it couldn't have been that hard." Grabbing the chair from the table in front of yours, he sat down.

"Tetsuro, I barely finished the first page. It was only two pages."

He drew a sharp breath, seemingly coming to terms with your performance on the exam. Sure, it marked the end of midterms, but you couldn't ignore way your marks were beginning to weigh down on you.

"Hey, there's still final exams." He chuckled lightly, trying to ease some of your stress. "But for now, your brain could use some rest."

He'd always been that way; asking about how you were feeling all the time. When it came to studies, the two of you almost always worked together, spending full days at the library or over at each others houses, rarely leaving one another's sides.

As the bell signalling the end of the day sounded throughout the school, you stood up from your table, yawning. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you wondered what you'd do once you got home other than lamenting on your marks.

Grabbing his own bag, he turned back to you.

"Got any plans?"

"Not really."

"Alright..." He paused, tapping his chin in thought. "Let's do something then."

The two of you exited the class together, pushing through the bustling crowds in the hallways. It seemed most of the students were feeling excited for the break; it made you wonder how they were able to let loose so fast.

You'd always been somewhat of a stress bucket; getting teased by Kuroo for worrying so much about things that didn't need more than a simple decision. When he'd injure himself as a kid, you always made sure to stay beside him, worrying that he'd do something rash. Or when he was down, it'd make you overthink on what had happened instead of just being outright and asking him.

As you both reached the school gates, the noise died down and your conversation continued.

"So? Have anywhere in mind?" You questioned.

"Yep, finally thought of a place." He replied, taking out his phone. "Just gotta navigate to it - bear with me.."

You couldn't help but giggle as he fiddled with the maps application on his phone. Once he finally figured it out, the both of you took off walking. On the way there, you passed by various shops selling trinkets and accessories. He suggested that you come back together afterwards, or on another day - you had the whole break ahead of you after all.

After around 10 minutes of walking, you found yourself standing in front of a place you'd never seen before.

"Have you ever been to a Cat Cafe?"

"Never even heard of a place like that." You replied, intrigued. "Also not a somewhere I'd imagine you'd go to."

"I'll have you know that I'm quite fond of cats!"

After you jokingly quizzed him on different cat breeds, you both decided it was time to actually go inside the place. He took the door for you, allowing you to enter before him. It was cozy on the inside, natural light seeping in through the parted sepia curtains, and faux vines lining the edges of the ceiling. In the distance, occasional meowing could be heard.

Kuroo made his way to the counter at the front and spoke to the woman there. In a few minutes, she led you both past a small gate into the cafe seating area where different types of cats were roaming around, doing various things. Some slept while others poked their heads into different people seated on couches and tables.

Taking a seat on one of the couches alongside Kuroo, it wasn't long before a cat jumped onto the arm of the couch, simply staring at you both. He held out his hand to the cat, and it followed, bunting it’s head into his palm.

"Aww, thats so cute..!" You commented, watching as the cat made it’s way onto his lap and simply sat there as he traced his hand over it’s back.

"Wow, it's fur is really soft." He chuckled. You hadn't known he was seriously into things like this. You felt a subtle excitement radiate from him, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched him pet the cat with such care.

You held out your hand and pet the cat on its head. It leaned into your touch, and you could practically feel your heart melting.

Soon after, a large cat made its way towards you, standing at your feet. "Oh wow.." You giggled, looking over at Kuroo. "Do you think thats all fat or fluff?"

"Why don't you find out?" He laughed.

Picking up the cat and plopping it onto your lap, you discovered that it was simply very, very fluffy. It faced you with its head, and you couldn't help scratch it’s chin.

With the ambience of the cafe alongside with the cozy atmosphere, and not to mention - the various cats - you slowly began to feel the things that weighed down on you earlier suddenly disappear.

Soon enough, the cat had curled up on your lap, looking as though it was preparing for a nap. You continued to gently caress its back, feeling absorbed in the softness of its coat.

"How're you feeling?" He asked, having noticed your relaxation.

"A lot better." You smiled softly, fingers lost in the cat's fur. "But how did you know I was down?"

"How wouldn't I know?" He scoffed jokingly. "I've practically lost count of how many years we've known each other.. but I just know." The cat on his lap perked its head up, jumping off to the ground, and the fluffy cat that was half asleep moments ago followed soon after.

"You didn't need to do this though.. how much did you pay?"

"Not telling! Instead, I want to see you relaxing more, okay?" He smiled, brushing some fur off his pants.

The two of you had been hanging out together for so many years. You knew so much about him and it seemed he knew tons about you as well. What makes you happy, sad, angry, annoyed; over the years, he'd learnt all these different things about you, coming up with his own ways to combat them.

He was always worrying more than you knew - he'd scold you for stressing even though he was practically the same when it came to you.

But despite you being such a handful, he never once left you to struggle alone.

extra:

before entering the cafe...

"Okay, what does a Siamese cat look like?" You questioned.

"It's, well, it's sort of toasty looking." He responded in a slightly hurried manner.

"Hm, alright. Lets up the ante then." Taking out your phone, you began to search for something.

"Hey, you can't do that!"

"I'm the one asking questions here!" Once you came across something difficult, you chuckled, meeting his gaze with squinted eyes.

"Name 5 breeds that start with the letter T."

"Cut it out, this isn't a game show!"

from my 100 followers event

#anime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #fluff #manga #haikyu fluff #haikyu x reader #kuroo #kuro tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro #hq #hq kuroo #kuroo haikyuu #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #tetsuro kuroo

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cowboygenesis · 3 months ago

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10: birthday girl | kylo ren x reader

part 10 of the "bump it, cool it" series: masterlist. | playlist

pairing: [modern!au] kylo ren x reader chapter warnings: explicit language, vague sexual imagery, alcohol consumption, smoking (cigarettes), mild poe dameron x reader. word count: 9.5k series summary: when your roommate’s older brother needs a place to crash, you begrudgingly offer up your couch— only to realize he’s the most insufferable, entitled asshole you’ve ever met. the worst part? you can’t seem to stop thinking about him. notes: why do my mc's always get drunk? is it time to explore other coping methods eckhem, plot devices? anyway, this chapter gave me a damn mf hard time because of its emotional weight but i really wanted to get it out by saturday. it's not proofread, so please let me know if it flows alright!

Now Playing: Veridis Quo - Daft Punk

“Happy Birthday!” carries through the tiled hallway as two men pass the curb of your apartment. Their shoes scrape against the welcome mat in tandem before being kicked off onto a sizeable stack of heels and boots in the corner.

You’re leaning against the junction of the foyer and kitchen, nursing a fizzy drink you don’t know the name of. For now you stay hidden, obscured by the shadows as wishes get exchanged.

“You guys!” Rey croons as her manicured hands clasp together, watching in awe as one of the men retrieves a small, wrapped gift from his jacket. She gasps, retrieving the package and giving it a soft shake near her ear where a faux gem dangles. “Finn, you didn’t have to.”

“Hey, hold up!” Poe pipes up with a wagging finger, eyes wide as he nods at the little parcel. “It’s from us both.”

You catch Finn rolling his eyes through a stiff smile, which tells you enough about Poe’s actual involvement in the thought-process. Maybe a little more. Watching Finn’s longing gaze trickling down Rey’s fitted pant-suit, you think it’s the latter.

Still, the birthday girl seems satisfied. Her body shifts to embrace them both in a warm, albeit awkward hug while they shove their coats off.

Rey gushes against the junction of their shoulders, making the two chuckle in tandem.

“Alright, alright,” Poe shoos her off through a wide grin, shrugging off his padded jean jacket to reveal a fitted, cornflower-blue button-up. It creases at his shoulders, ivory-buttons popped near the top to reveal a groomed chest. “I’m loving the excitement, but I just got this dry-cleaned.”

“Dude, you didn’t,” Finn sighs, making Poe shake his head, arms extended dramatically.

“I thought about it.”

“Right,” he chuckles, though his eyes focus on Rey. He gives her a quick size-up before smiling politely. “How’s the birthday girl feeling?”

Rey shrugs softly, retrieving her drink from the cupboard.

“Tired,” she says, her voice tight with a smile. She turns around, motioning for the two men to follow he through the foyer. “Midterms next week.”

“Ouch,” Finn hisses sympathetically, just as you approach the kitchen counter to inconspicously pour yourself another drink. “Well, let’s not think about that tonight.”

As the trio enters the living room, you turn to watch. Poe and Finn exchange dab-ups and smiles with the other guests as Rey retreats to her room. Despite yourself, you scan the crowded room for a familiar head of raven and as usual, you find him resting against the balcony balustrade.

It’s been a strange weekend. After your shopping rendezvous with Kylo and way too many close calls, you came home with guilt weighing down on your heart. While lusting after him had its ups, at the end of the day it was mostly downs. Sure, touching yourself to the thought of someone you shouldn’t want was fun until you realized the risks that came with it.

You told yourself from the get-go that this was a harmless, casual crush. There was something about this asshole that grinded your gears just right—just enough to make you want him inside of you. And you didn’t want a slow, passionate lovemaking session either; you wanted to be pounded against the wall and called something you’d normally get pissed with him about. At least once, just to scratch that itch.

You told yourself it was a natural, evolutionary reaction. Until the daydreaming started. Not just the usual, dirty fantasy, but… domesticity. When he drove you home after work, you thought about his hand on your thigh. When he made himself coffee in the mornings, you imagined him coming behind to kiss your neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

So you decided to end it. The flirtationship, that is. Starting today, you were a hardheaded woman who easily recognized that all Kylo Ren was is a shameless flirt and a pain in your ass. I mean, he wasn’t even all that.

As your eyes scan over his profile, your heart thrums in your ears. You needed this drink, badly.

“There she is!” a familiar voice brings you back to Earth, making your eyes blink back into focus. Poe stands in front of you with a wide grin, Finn by his side.

“What’s got you scowling?” the latter questions, hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks.

Your eyebrows rise at the question, and your eyes quickly dart toward the full-length mirror at the far end of the living room. Surely enough, your reflection stares back at you blankly, its painted lips twisted into a deep frown.

“I—” you trail, eyeing the colorful liquid sloshing in your glass. There was no way in hell you’d tell these two about your dumbass problem, but you knew how nosy they could get with a poorly crafted lie. “I don’t like tequila.”

Poe deadpans at you, chin lowering. “You’re joking.”

“I kind of concur,” Finn shrugs through a self-satisfied smile that you quickly return, relieved at how easily you managed to drag their attention away from your soured mood.

“You’re both off your rockers,” Poe concludes, swiftly stealing your glass and taking a hefty sip. You don’t protest.

His eyes graze down your figure, taking in your outfit over the rim of the glass. You had been meticulous with picking every element out, just in case it made a difference at the end of the night.

Poe nods at you, lips curled and wet with the stolen cocktail.

“Cute outfit.”

“Thanks,” you smile, doing a half-spin to demonstrate the sparkles lining your dress before taking their own ensembles in. While Poe kept on-brand with his sexy, semi-formal attire, Finn’s turtleneck makes him appear classy and professional. “You two clean up nicely.”

“You clean up nicer,” Poe quickly corrects, his enunciation making you match his chuckle.

Whilst you’ve known the two since highschool, you had never considered either of them to be suitable partner material. While Finn spent his days lusting over poor Rey, Poe’s extreme advances made him infamously unserious and undateable. While the flirting was fun on occasion, tonight is the first time you feel emboldened enough to reciprocate. Maybe it’s your poor mood, or the alcohol in your system.

Most likely, it’s the man smoking on the balcony.

“Uh huh,” you quirk a brow, head tilting in a silent challenge. “Lay it off, Dameron.”

He shrugs, giving you a boyish smirk. “It’s worth a try.”

The comment doesn’t make your stomach flip, but works just enough to give you a small, pleasant headrush. Maybe this is exactly what you needed to get over your stupid crush on Kylo—a rebound.

Before you can overthink the repercussions of hitting on your friend, you shoot him a foxy smile. “Then keep at it.”

He grins back like you’ve wordlessly permitted him to misbehave. “Oh, I don’t think you want that.”

“He’s right,” Finn groans beside you, eyes rolling. “You don’t want this.”

His friend faces him with a wide grin, pushing a finger against his chest that only makes Finn groan louder. “Jealous?”

“You wish.”

“Yeah,” Poe sighs, faking exasperation as you watch the two with a lazy smile. “I do.”

Behind their shoulders, you catch a glimpse of the birthday girl strutting out of the hallway. She spots your gaze, and quickly pushes through the small crowd of guests.

“Here you are,” you greet just as she straightens at your side. Her lips are parted to let more air in, hands smoothing fervently down her dress to keep it tidy.

“About time,” Finn utters through a relieved smile, his chest puffing up just slightly. To the untrained eye, it meant nothing; but you’ve known the man for long enough to spy his intentions. “Please save me from these two.”

“Love you too, bud,” Poe coos, and you grin with a nod.

“You two are impossible,” Rey shakes her head, making each of you turn with quirked brows.

“Me and him,” Poe points toward Finn, then pivots to you. “Or me and her?”

The woman shrugs with a soft smile. “Go figure.”

“Hey, regardless, I take offense to that,” he utters, pressing a theatrical hand to his chest. “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman all evening.”

“Uh huh,” you mutter quietly, urging Poe’s attention. He can’t help the smirk riding his features, eyes twinkling with challenge.

“You don’t think so?”

You shrug, mildly regretting putting yourself in this situation. The flirting was fun, but something in your stomach threatened to lunge every time you let yourself loose.

“Alright gentlemen, if I may,” Rey jumps in, placing a knowing hand against your nude shoulderblade. You feel yourself tense at first, before dropping your arms with relief. “I think Temmin and Jess were looking for you two.”

Poe perks up at that, his smirk widening. “Oh, yeah? Bet good ole’ Snap is gonna try to hustle me at Rummy again.” He nudges at Finn, interrupting the man’s brief daydreaming spell.

“Uh, yeah. Right,” he nods before eyeing you and Rey, giving each of you a cordial nod. His gaze lingers on the latter as Poe begins pulling at his arm. “I’ll see you later.”

As the two merge into the crowd, you briefly catch sound of Finn’s groaning about ‘wasting time on a rigged game’ before they’re completely out of earshot.

The booming speakers shift to a mellow rap tune you don’t recognize as Rey invades your space, moving you both toward the wall. She sighs, arms crossed and looking down at her strappy heels as your lips shift into a foxy grin.

When she looks up again, you’re on the verge of a chuckle.

“Don’t,” she utters firmly, brows knitted as if your look alone told her all she needed to know about your intentions.

“Rey.” you push, head tilting in encouragement as your hand lands on her arm.

“Please spare me the embarrassment.”

You stop for a beat, lips tight with an unspoken tease as her gaze bores into nothing. When you let out a sharp exhale to soothe the laugh bubbling in your throat, she finally looks at you.

“He’s still into you.”

“I know.” Rey groans, barely letting you finish your thought. Her dramatic reaction makes you chuckle, but it quickly shifts into a smile of sympathy.

“We can drop it if you like,” you shrug as she chews on her bottom lip. “I just thought it was sweet.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head, rubbing one hand against her temple. “It’s okay. It is sweet, I just… I actually wanted to tell you something.”

You quirk a curious brow, head tilted as you give her a nod. Rey watches you with a scrunched nose, exhaling softly in preparation for confession.

“Okay,” she trails nervously, fidgeting with the gems lining her bodice. With a final exhale, she begins her admission. “I think I met—”

“Birthday girl!” comes a melodic voice, widening your eyes slightly. Rey, on the other hand, jumps at the sudden invasion, her fingers jittering as a hand emerges on her waist.

The figure dips from the shadows, her confident stature crowding Rey’s space as you take a moment to make sense of everything.

“Maya,” your roommate utters through a wide smile, shifting just enough to hug the stranger tightly. When they withdraw, Maya’s eyes drift to yours.

She speaks your name, and you give her a pleasant smile. As your arm extends, she catches it in an impressively firm handshake.

“Nice to meet you,” you nod, taking in the woman’s visage before shifting your gaze to Rey. You think she catches your knowing smile when her arm rests on the newcomer’s shoulder.

“Maya works in my division,” she explains, her eyes flickering toward the woman’s effortlessly put-together outfit. “We met at a company event.”

Maya hums in acknowledgment, her eyes warm as she glances toward Rey. “Not just met,” she corrects with an easy smirk. “She saved my ass in front of our regional director. If it weren’t for her, I’d be out of a job.”

Rey shakes her head, waving off the compliment. “That’s not true, you just needed someone to—”

“Translate my rambling into something coherent?” Maya interjects playfully.

You watch the exchange with growing amusement, noting the way Rey’s ears turn a shade darker under the club’s dim lighting. The air between them hums with something soft, charged. It’s a different kind of tension than the one you share with Poe—less teasing, more… shy, genuine.

“Anyway,” Maya says, her fingers brushing briefly over Rey’s arm, “I wanted to talk to you about something work-related. Nothing urgent, just running some numbers—whenever you’ve got a moment.”

Rey nods, perhaps a little too quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

Her eyes meet yours knowingly, and you give her a quick, encouraging nod. Rey seems to grin back at you in thanks, reaching her coworker’s gaze. You know exactly what ‘running numbers’ actually meant.

“Want to go over it now?”

“I’d like that.” Maya smiles, her arm planting around Rey’s shoulder as she nods toward you. “Sorry for stealing her away.”

You shake your head with a relaxed grin, waving your hand in denial. “Nonsense, I think she’d appreciate the change of pace.”

The two women’s smiles widen, eyes glittering with appreciation. You feel like you’ve been asked for a marriage blessing.

“Well, then,” Maya trails, “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.”

As the two of them drift deeper into the kitchen you linger behind, exhaling softly as you take in the scene around you.

The party hasn’t come into full swing yet, clusters of guests lining the walls and chatting happily. The music has settled into something slow and rhythmic, the bass thrumming low in your chest as you enjoy a brief moment of solitude.

With little to focus on, your mind is forced to acknowledge the dryness in your throat. Your eyes pivot toward the kitchen counter, and before you can rethink your decision, you’re already strutting toward the makeshift bar you helped set up earlier.

A dark red cloth lines the marble, lined with an array of alcohols; wines, affordable liquors, and mixers to wash it down with. You smile pridefully at your work, hand mindlessly landing over one of the amber bottles.

“You know, I was kinda hoping you’d have that diner get-up on.”

Your expression turns stony at the familiar voice, head held low as you uncork the half-empty whiskey bottle. You promised yourself minimal contact, and you’d hone that with whatever it took.

“What’s up with you and that uniform?” you reply flatly as you tilt the nozzle against your glass.

There’s a beat of silence, and momentarily you hope your dryness has shoved him away. But you still feel his presence, looming over your side like an evil shadow.

“Honestly?”

“Yeah?” you ask half-heartedly, completing your drink with a hefty dash of coke. You place the bottle back down, satisfied.

You feel him shift, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. “It’s hot.”

A shiver runs down your neck, making it snap toward him. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him tonight, but it’s certainly the first time it steals your breath.

Kylo stands next to you, half-illuminated by the blue moodlight. He dons a pair of loose slacks and his usual arrangement of trim bracelets and a silver watch. His black button-up is neatly undone at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal his forearms. His hair rolls in soft waves, framing his smiling face.

“Shut up.” you snap after a beat, shooting daggers at the man who stares at you point-blank, smelling too delicious for you to focus.

You expect him to chuckle, but he doesn’t. Instead, the smile on his face stays ever-evident as he reiterates his point. “No, seriously.”

His gaze feels inviting, but you force your eyes away. For a beat, you let yourself dip your lips into the glass, swallowing up the umber liquid in thick streams. Maybe if you ignored him for long enough, he’d let you be.

But even as the silence stretches into discomfort, he perseveres by your side. You inch your gaze up again, watching as his face contorts into something solemn.

His lips part as he surveys your figure, but this time it’s not predatory; his gaze is soft, tracing your curves and taking in your aura like it’s something to behold. “You look good tonight.”

Your lips flatten into a line, eyes briefly flickering over his legs. “You, too.”

“I know,” he retorts, and you know he means it. Somehow, despite the contempt you vowed to feel for him, the statement makes your lips curl into an unwanted smirk.

“Ass.”

Yet again, he doesn’t chuckle. You watch him still there for a moment, chest heaving slowly as the music plays on between you. People weave in and out, carrying drinks and laughing while you wonder why Kylo chose to talk to you tonight.

“Was Rey happy with her present?” you finally utter, taking another sip of your drink.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, making you look at him again. His lips are slightly parted as he motions toward the living room with an easy nod.

You follow his line of sight, glancing over your shoulder. It takes you a moment to find them in the crowd, but eventually spot two women sitting on the edge of your couch, grazing hands and laughing.

“She’s been busy oggling her coworker. Cute, right?”

“Oh god,” you chuckle, watching your roommate trace Maya’s shoulder before deeming it too inappropriate to keep staring. Your gaze turns back to Kylo. “So I’m not crazy after all.”

“You might be,” he corrects through a shrug, “just not about this.”

You scoff, twisting your body to let your back rest against the counter. “Charming.”

Kylo chuckles, matching your position. You stand side by side, watching the din of the party pick up. You don’t feel a strain between you, but it’s not exactly comfortable, either. A part of you wants to break the ice and act like a mature adult, even though you know Kylo won’t be able to give you that same treatment.

“That’s the worst coke-to-rum ratio I’ve ever seen,” he comments, making your eyes roll through your next sip.

“First of all, this is whiskey,” you correct, raising your glass as if to demonstrate. Kylo doesn’t look particularly impressed by your schooling, but he listens, anyway. “And second of all, what’s your fucking problem?”

He laughs at that, head shaking in awe of your aggression. As usual, he doesn’t seem to take your edge too seriously.

“You getting sloshed tonight?”

“Sloshed?” you repeat, laughing sardonically at his choice of vocabulary. “God, you’re old.”

Kylo smirks treacherously, sizing you up for a moment. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing,” you counter, tilting your head at him. “You probably grew up calling it ‘booze’ and saying shit like ‘paint the town red.’”

“I don’t think I’ve ever said that in my life.”

“But you could,” you press, jabbing a finger in his direction. “And that’s the point.”

Kylo exhales another laugh, his gaze flicking over you with that same infuriating ease. “You’re in rare form tonight.”

“I’m delightful,” you deadpan, taking another sip. “And to answer your question, I might. Depending on how things go tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, downing the rest of your drink and setting it down on the counter. Your throat burns with the aftermath of your desperation. “Just don’t count on anything.”

He shakes his head, watching your frustrated expression with pointed curiosity. “I really wasn’t.”

“Good,” you snap, crossing your arms now that you have nothing else to do. “Now please back off, you reek.”

His brows lift. “Do I?”

“Like cigarettes,” you say pointedly, though it’s a lie. He does smell like cigarettes, but it’s not exactly bad. Your brain pegs it as warm and familiar, though it’s not something you’re about to let yourself feel while pretending to be mad at him.

Kylo, of course, sees right through you. “You don’t mind that.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

You huff. “I do when it’s coming off of you.”

That makes him grin. He leans in just barely, enough to test your wavering determination. “That so?”

You steel yourself, tipping your chin up to match his dark gaze.

“Yes. So please,” you trail, puffing out your chest to stand just a bit taller. You could never match his physical stature, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try. “Is there anything else?”

His gaze drags over you once again, eyes dark and filled with a certain mockery. It’s not unusual, yet your stomach tingles regardless.

“Actually, yeah,” he speaks, voice dipping an octave.

You swallow thickly, nails digging into your palms as you endure his stare. “Then spit it out.”

His gaze flickers over your face, lips parting on the edge of a sentence. You watch him carefully, your knitted brows briefly relaxing under the weight of your curiosity. Despite yourself, you hope for something big. Something life-altering.

Before you get the chance to find out, he stills. Kylo’s gaze peeks over your shoulder, his form stiffening. Your ears drone when you match his line of sight.

A woman stands in the foyer of your apartment, clad in a luxurious fur coat. Her freshly-bleached hair shines in the lowlight, contrasting with her glowy complexion as she shrugs her outerwear off. Her thin, toned shoulders don the straps of a beautiful dress, the satiny fabric falling over her figure in rich cascades.

“Sienna,” he whispers, and your spine shudders with something deep-rooted. Your eyes stay glued to her form, watching as she enters the living room with a cunning smile painting her sharp features.

When you force your gaze back to your roommate, his forehead is slick with a film of sweat. You don’t recognize the expression boring into his eyes, but it feels visceral enough to make your eyebrows knit with worry.

“Kylo—”

“Give me a second,” he utters lowly, never meeting your gaze as he rushes past you and quickly disappears into the room in pursuit of the mysterious woman.

You’re once again left alone, arm hanging mid-air while your heart hammers against your ribcage and into your ears. A slow, trickling unease settles into your stomach, and you wonder if it’s because you haven’t eaten or something much harder to digest.

You’ve only seen her in pictures, and yet even those failed to capture the sheer elegance Sienna exuded stepping into your apartment—your home. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she fit right in.

Except no conceivable explanation could align with that thought. If she was really an ex—Kylo’s ex, no less—why would she be invited? Why would she strut in like she owns the place; owns Kylo Ren?

A quiet, insistent voice at the back of your mind utters whispers of a possibility that makes your stomach churn.

Maybe she wasn’t an ex anymore?

Before you can dwell on that surprisingly agonizing thought, you feel a gentle hand graze your shoulderblade. When you turn, wide-eyed and hopeful, you’re met with Finn’s smile.

“Hey,” he greets, positioning himself by your side. You nod at him, urging the softest, saddest smile out in acknowledgment of his presence.

Poe rushes into your circle seconds later, pink and fresh-faced as he shoots you a wild grin.

“God, you won’t believe who—” he trails until he catches your perturbed expression, making his smile drop. His gaze lowers to match yours, looking at you beneath his bushy brows. “Hey doll, you alright?”

You shake your head through a nervous smile, trying to urge their worries away. As relieved as you feel with them around, you don’t think it’s the right moment to dissect your feelings.

“I’m okay,” you chuckle sardonically, placing your hands on their backs in reassurance. They match your smile with their own. “Just feeling a little overwhelmed. With the crowd.”

Neither of them look convinced. Poe’s dark eyes scan your face, brows furrowing. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you say, forcing out a light chuckle. “I mean, it’s Rey’s birthday. Not really the time for—”

And then you catch them.

Through the narrow glass doors leading to the balcony, Kylo and Sienna stand facing each other. She’s laughing at something, delicate, manicured fingers brushing the sleeve of his leather jacket. His head is tilted down, face out of sight, but you can tell he’s listening; engaged in whatever she’s saying.

Your stomach clenches again, and you realize it’s not something you can hide anymore.

“Do you guys know that girl?” you ask suddenly, voice a little too sharp as you turn back to your friends.

They follow your gaze curiously, and Finn immediately sighs. Poe, on the other hand, grabs your arm and shakes you like a rattle. “This is exactly what we were coming to tell you about!”

“Where’s Rey?” Finn questions, urging his friend to groan.

“Dude. This crush is really getting out of hand.”

Finn rolls his eyes, rubbing at his temple. “No, no. I mean, does she even know about this?”

“What?” you utter, eyebrows low on your face as you try to make sense of their banter. The two men look toward you, their excitable expressions dropping to something more sympathetic.

"It’s Sienna," Poe utters like it’s obvious, his eyes flickering across your face for a trace of understanding. And you don’t.

Before you can question them, you catch a familiar glimmer in your peripheral. Rey’s voice catches you off-guard before you even comprehend her outrage. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” you reiterate, eyes blinking quickly as you scramble for an ounce of information.

“Her,” Rey points toward the balcony, finger jittering. As your gaze finally meets her face, you realize just how enraged she looks; eyebrows knitted, lip pursed, and absolutely no sign of her arm candy.

“Wait, hold up—” you continue flailing as Rey brings all of you closer to vent her frustrations.

“Who the fuck invited her?”

Finn sighs, head shaking in disbelief. “Who do you think invited her?”

Rey’s eyes narrow, her attention pivoting toward the man. “Do not sass me right now, Finn,”

“I-I’m not, I’m just—”

“Who is she?!” You hiss desperately, bile rising to your throat as your friends face you with curious glances.

“What?” Rey tilts her head, brow furrowed.

You exhale slowly, fingers sinking into the fabric of your dress as you calm your nerves. “Who is she?”

Poe and Finn exchange looks, their faces somber and confused at your sudden uproar. Rey purses her lips. And as hard as it is, you try your damn best to keep your attention away from the balcony.

“It’s Sienna.” Poe finally utters, his tone uncharacteristically flat.

“I know it’s Sienna, I just—” you groan, rubbing at your shoulder. “Who is she?”

“You…” Finn speaks, his voice low and careful as he matches your gaze. “You don’t know?”

“How the fuck would I know?” you reply with more exasperation than anger, eyes flickering between the two men. “How do you two know?”

Poe and Finn look at each other, then Rey. Your gaze moves to the woman who eyes you with confusion and an unusual semblance of guilt.

When she speaks, her voice is soft. “I told them.”

You inch your hand toward the counter, leaning against it to combat the sudden dizziness. You really should have eaten before drinking.

You meet her gaze with narrowed eyes, but you’re not angry. If anything, you want to understand and get this shit-show over with so you can go back to pretending you don’t give a damn about Kylo and his romantic life. “Okay, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Rey’s lips purse, eyes flickering over nothing as she makes sense of it all.

“I thought that…” she trails, her face shifting into a strange sneer. “I thought Kylo would tell you.”

You can’t help but scoff, more at the possibility of Kylo trusting you with such information than anything. Your nostrils flare, fists unclenching as your gaze lowers to your shoes.

“We’re not friends, Rey,” you explain lowly, avoiding your friends’ sharp, inquisitive gazes. Your breath hitches, and as you look at your roommate again, your lips shift into a sardonic smile. “We’re nothing.”

The moment that follows is charged with electricity. Your ears drum with blood and hip hop as the four of you adjust to whatever the hell just happened.

Finn and Rey exchange glances while Poe frowns at you with confusion. Your agitation probably makes no sense to them without the context of your internal turmoil, but you’re not ready to talk about it. Yet, or ever. If things went according to plan, you’d never have to; Kylo would eventually move out, your juvenile crush would vanish, and things would eventually go back to normal.

But for now, you wanted answers.

“Now,” you sigh, clasping your hands together as a grin emerges on your face, “please fill me in.”

Your friends look at you with trepidation and something akin to curiosity. You can only pray you’ve pulled off the nonchalant persona you’ve been crafting all evening, at least for the time being.

“Who’s Sienna?” you repeat, softer this time around.

Finn is the first to perk up at your change in mein, clearing his throat before facing you head-on. "His ex."

You knew that already, but they don’t know that. There was no way in hell you’d confess to rummaging through Kylo’s phone, so another lie was unfortunately due. "Ex?"

"Yep," your friend continues, his arms crossing. "The Ex. Capital E."

You catch Poe straightening his posture, the worried glint in his eyes returning to playfulness again. "They were together for a while. They broke up, got back together. Broke up again, got back together again—"

"It was a whole thing," Rey suddenly interrupts, her unease taking center stage. When everyone goes quiet, she speaks after a prolonged sigh. "They met during their Master’s.”

“Moved in after a year,” Poe nods with knitted brows, his lip turned into a sneer. “Can you believe that? I mean, you gotta wait at least—”

“Poe!” Rey hisses, making the man stop in his tracks. His gaze flickers between each of you before he clears his throat, waving apologetically.

“Sorry. Carry on.”

Rey exasperates, but as she shifts her weight, her train of thought seems to bounce back.

“She seemed good for him,” she states, looking down at the floor, “Took him out to network, helped him out with his thesis. Just… got him to open up a little.” She snorts suddenly, her eyes rolling. “God, he even brought her to Thanksgiving once. What a doozy.”

You try your best to contain the surprise in your eyes. Kylo Ren bringing a girl to meet the parents? It seemed strange, but at this point you wouldn’t put anything beyond that man.

“What happened next?”

Rey sighs, stilling for a moment as she recounts the events. You’re sure the whole story is much longer than she leads on, but for now, you’re satisfied to just be in the know.

“He proposed,” she mutters, and your heart drops despite hearing it all before. Somehow, you weren’t sure Kylo was even telling the truth, but now that you got a third-party verification, it begins to sink in and leave a bitter aftertaste.

“I mean, I don’t think he was ready,” Rey trails, waving her hands around. “He called me one day and asked what he should do, which, I mean—he never calls me. Ever.”

Your brows furrow in tandem with Rey’s, her lip catching between her teeth. She worries it for a while, gaze still dropped low. “I told him that if he had to ask, maybe he already knew the answer.”

“And?” your voice comes out tighter than you’d wished, the trio’s gaze reaching yours.

“And he did it anyway.” Rey mumbles, her eyes narrowing with something on the verge of anger. “Picked out a ring, found a semi-decent location, and popped the question.”

It’s all beyond you. You can’t even begin to imagine a ring stuffing his expensive jeans, Kylo on his knee with a soft smile painting his features as this beautiful, ephemeral woman jumps in his arms with a strained, tearful ‘yes’.

“But…” you trail slightly breathlessly, swallowing before you continue. “They didn’t get married?”

“Thankfully,” Poe mutters, his eyes rolling half-heartedly.

You turn to Rey with a raised brow, lips parted as you scan her face for clues. Thankfully?

Her nose scrunches, hand coming to rub at her forearm. You watch carefully, just at the precipice, your eyes briefly flickering to the pair on the balcony.

“She cheated.”

Your eyes widen, heart thumping in tandem with the bass of the speakers.

“What?” you utter dryly, body stiffening.

Rey sighs once again, her tone growing increasingly strained with the memories. “Some guy from her office.”

You think your fists clench. Somehow, you can’t seem to drag your gaze away from the flaxen-haired woman, her red lips sweet with laughter. Sienna traces Kylo’s bicep, and her slim finger glimmers.

“Oh my god.”

Finn and Poe exchange pitiful looks, sympathizing with your reaction. The former nods, lips flattened. “Yeah.”

You forcefully glance away from the window, blinking repeatedly to let the barrage of information sink in.

He tried committing, and it blew up in his face. He tried making a meaningful connection, and his life fell apart. Momentarily, you think it all makes sense. You can’t justify his behavior toward you, but at least this context has allowed you to understand it.

But what tugs at your heartstrings now is not sympathy, but pity. Frustration.

“Why is she here?” you mutter tightly.

Finn shakes his head. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

Poe groans, his arm flying around Rey’s shoulder. She raises a brow at him, and he shoots her a wild grin. “Let’s kick her out.”

“And cause a scene?” Finn scoffs in return, head shaking as Rey lets out a long, defeated exhale.

“She’ll leave soon enough,” the woman says, gaze briefly flickering toward you. You’re not sure why, but it feels knowing. “As long as she gets what she wants.”

Your gaze flickers toward the balcony again. Inexplicably, the pair seems closer.

“And…” you trail treacherously, eyebrows winding, “what does she want?”

The woman traces Kylo’s chest, her arms cocooning around his neck. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but you doubt he flinches. His broad shoulders stay fixed as his ex-fiance leans against his ear, lips curled into a hellish smile as her eyes fix on you.

Icicles burrow into your chest, trickling down your sides and making you still. Your eyes are wide, lips parted as your friends try to reach you, and fail.

“Excuse me for a second,” you mutter dryly, quickly turning on your heel and booking it out of the kitchen. On your way, you haphazardly grab one of the bottles lining the counter.

Rey calls your name. Then Poe, then Finn. Their voices melt into a cacophony of white noise as you march your heated body through the sea of guests and out the door.

୨ৎ

The pavement is cold beneath you as the party carries on upstairs. The distant thrum of bass echoes through the walls, chilling your spine and making your hand clasp tighter around the stolen bottle.

Every swig you take helps soothe the chill in your gut. The amber liquid burns down your throat, making your eyes prickle with tears that glow faintly under the warm streetlights above. A car passes every once in a while, swirling a gust of wind against your nude forearms.

It’s a beautiful evening in March. The skyline spills into shades of black and blue, speckled with faraway constellations that blink and hum at you in their indifference. You envy their apathy, and curse your heart for swelling over something you vowed to renounce.

You sigh, tipping the bottle against your lips again. You feel positively mellow by now, though not quite adequately to bypass your anxieties.

You hear dull footsteps emerge behind you, making you sigh in exasperation. You wipe the wetness from your cheeks with the back of your hand, careful to keep your makeup mostly intact, and brace for conversation.

“Easy tiger,” the voice taunts, making your body stiffen at its familiar gravel. “Leave some for me.”

The figure hovers behind you for a second, rustling and rummaging as you take deep breaths to calm your hammering heart. The coincidence couldn’t be any more unfortunate for you, but there was nowhere to run anymore; this curb was your only safe haven, and now it was being invaded.

“You wouldn’t want it,” you croak out, keeping your gaze straight as the man emerges in your peripheral. “It’s got my saliva all over the top.”

You hear him chuckle, but the sound is muffled.

“What are we, twelve?” he retorts, his lilt teasing but light. You think his nonchalance should upset you, but with the knowledge you’ve acquired tonight, you’re not sure anymore.

You inhale deeply, letting the cool air coat your lungs before you settle the bottle in your lap. Like ripping a bandaid off, you turn toward the figure in one, swift movement.

Kylo Ren stands at your side, clad in his worn, leather jacket. His gaze is narrowed as it roams over your hunched-over body, toying with the pale smoke nestled between his lips.

You lick the dryness off your lips, eyebrows furrowed as you finally speak. “Why are you here?”

Kylo stays silent, hand fishing into his pocket to withdraw a small carton. He flicks the top open with his thumb, extending the parcel toward you with a raised brow.

Your eyes flicker between the last cigarette lodged within and the man’s curious gaze. After a beat of squeezing your lips together, you shake your head. “No, thanks.”

He only shrugs, tucking the box back into his jacket and withdrawing a lighter instead. The clear, red-tinted plastic catches your eye. It quickly disappears from your line of sight as Kylo shields it from the breeze, flicking the metal wheel and taking his first drag. The soft firelight casts his face in warmth, contouring his nose and the divot of his brows.

“Your loss.”

You watch him quietly as he exhales a thin cloud of grey smoke, letting it twirl against the dark setting. When he finally captures your gaze, your nostrils flare. “Shouldn’t you be inside?”

He quirks a brow, eyeing your underdressed form. In your short panic, you prioritized liquor over a warm coat or sweater, so now you were left to fend for yourself in your dress and stockings alone.

“Shouldn’t you?”

You break away from his taunting gaze, focusing instead on the tips of your kitten heels. You swing them back and forth, mesmerized by the glittering crystals lining the toe box. “I needed air.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, nodding toward your lap, “and half a bottle of whiskey?”

You meet his gaze slowly, eyes narrowing. There’s little taunt in his tone and no mocking smile painting his lips, but the memory of those hands grasping your waist the same way they did Sienna’s makes your throat run dry.

“You don’t get to judge me, Ren.”

His eyes soften, lips curling into a frown as he exhales another puff. “I’m not.”

You linger on him for a moment before finally shifting your focus toward the stars. The city skyline isn’t visible from where you sit, but you still spot the expansive light pollution just beyond the brownstones.

Kylo watches with you, head tilted to let his locks cascade down the back of his neck. His long, dark lashes brush over his pale cheekbones, breaking up the cigarette smoke as it ascends. Over this backdrop of light he looks beautiful. And that makes you spiral.

“How’s Sienna?” you suddenly ask, the words cutting through the silence like a hot blade. You don’t mean to be snarky, but your tone is laced with a venom you hope he won’t notice.

Kylo turns, taking a long stride toward you. You don’t watch his face, but imagine he’s not showing a single trace of astonishment at your question.

“Did they tell you, or did you figure it out yourself?” he questions, voice smooth and lacklustre. You think he expected this conversation at one point or another.

You chew your bottom lip, heel tapping against the rough concrete. “Little bit of both.”

Kylo exhales sharply, and when you turn to catch a smile, he’s scowling instead. “Figures.”

You watch him fidget with the hem of his sleeve, sucking the filter with extra might as he looks over the horizon. Perhaps purposefully, he’s inched his face away from yours.

Something tells you he’s hurting despite the serenity of his mein. And while you don’t consider yourself the best shoulder for him to cry on, it’d be wrong to turn him away. Even if you know this conversation will sting, and it’ll be hard to keep your anger and frustration at bay.

An audible sigh escapes your lips as you place the bottle on the curb. You twist your body toward the man while a soft, bittersweet smile paints your features. "You gonna tell me what happened, or do I have to guess?"

He turns toward you, eyes subdued but glassy. He grips his half-finished cigarette tightly, smoothly turning toward the curbside trashcan to snuff it out. "You already know the gist."

You shrug as he tosses the filter. "I wanna hear it from you."

He watches you curiously, taking in your half-baked expression and the goosebumps lining your skin. If he scowled and turned heel right now, you wouldn’t be surprised or even blame him.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, you watch with bated breath as he approaches you, hovering by your side and dwarfing your shrunken figure for a beat. His nostrils flare and his jaw tightens at the hinges. Your lips part to speak, but he’s already nodding. Before you can change your mind, Kylo Ren slumps by your side with an exhale.

Your eyes flicker over his face, taking in the solemnity of his features. If it were any other circumstance, you think you’d find comfort in counting the moles lining his skin.

"We met at university,” he finally mutters, bending his legs at the knee. You match his pose, and let your lips purse.

"I know."

Kylo snorts, flickering his gaze toward you. At this proximity, the gesture makes your heart jump. "Of course you do."

You return his sardonic smirk with something more encouraging, doing your best to ignore your arms brushing at the small junction of your elbows. Still, neither of you is brave or smart enough to move away.

“She was… nice,” he starts again, tracing his gaze over the road ahead. “Charismatic. Not always this…”

“Cruel?” you mutter, cursing at yourself for butting in. You can’t help the frustration boiling in your gut at the thought of that beautiful, horrible woman, and Kylo seems to share that sentiment when you catch him exhale again.

“Yeah. Cruel.”

When he’s silent for a beat, you allow your legs to extend toward the street. The stretch makes you hum softly, eyes narrowed as you click your shoes together. “Was she good to you?”

It’s a simple question, but makes Kylo stiffen nonetheless. You feel his shoulder tighten against yours, muscles flexing just to relax a second after.

“Yeah,” he replies quietly, finally parting your limbs when he leans back. “At first.”

Without second thought, you match his position again. You’re not touching anymore, but the angle lets you study his expression better.

“She was sharp and knew exactly what she wanted,” Kylo continues, letting one knee fall to the side. After a beat, he chuckles, letting his subsequent words materialize as a half-whisper. “So, naturally, she thought I was a mess.”

You quirk a brow at him, hanging onto any pretense of laughter like a lifeline. “You are a mess.”

His chuckle shifts into an amalgamation of snorts and giggles, eyes briefly catching yours. You bite your lip at the guile within his pupils, dark and perilous as they bore into yours.

“Yeah, well, she liked that about me,” he huffs, tilting his head back. “Said I was intense. Thought it made me interesting.”

The words don’t sit right with you, but you abstain from commenting this time. Judging by the wistful, misplaced look daubing his face, you think the memories are at least partially fond.

You swallow thickly, watching the small space between your palms.

“Did you love her?”

Kylo straightens at that, looking blankly into the sky before he sits up again. His face is, once again, stolen away from your thoughtful regard, the distance between you growing within milliseconds.

“I wanted to,” he says plainly, his broad back flexing in front of your eyes. “I think I did.”

It’s not a clear answer, but you think it’s honest. You’ve loved before, only to let those feelings fall on deaf ears and emerge as something completely foreign. Love wasn’t easy to define that way, and you think Kylo felt the same.

“She always needed attention,” he utters again, head shaking slowly, “more than I could give.”

You stay back this time, granting him space to think.

“I worked late. I was… I was stressed all the time, and she just hated that. Hated that I’d shut down and get antsy instead of just talking to her,” the man trails, his voice shifting into something entirely alien to your trained ears. “I told her about my family. My upbringing, how it… made me this way, or whatever,” he shifts his arms forward, making his back droop and shrink. “But that wasn’t enough. There was always something wrong, and…”

He twists his neck to look at you, and the rest of this story becomes immediately apparent with the sorrow in his eyes.

“I walked in on them.”

Your eyebrows knit tightly, grimacing as you inch forward. Instinctively, you let your hand settle between his shoulderblades, and shiver when he doesn’t pull away. “Christ, Kylo.”

“We were gonna go to dinner that night,” he elaborates tightly as you shift your body closer, letting your thigh press against his. “Talk about everything and—”

"Kylo,” you try to assure, eyes narrowing in pity as his own glaze over.

"I dropped my studies for her,” he suddenly barks with laughter, teeth baring with a scathing grin. “I thought that it’d make her happy.” His lip trembles, making your heart sink. “That if I just had more time, I could fix things."

He shifts his face away, but you catch the tremble of his lip just in time.

You move before you can think.

Your hands shoot up from your lap, framing his head and swiftly settling on either cheek. The warmth tugs at your soul as you forcefully pivot him to face you.

His face is solemn, lips plush and trembling while his eyes glaze with withheld tears. They flicker over your face in inquiry, interest, dark pupils wide and expectant.

"She fucked up," you breathe strongly, scarcely pressing his cheeks as you chastise him. Your tone is strained, mingling with distant music as the words threaten to lodge in your throat at the warmth of his breath. "Not you."

His tear-slick gaze flickers over your face in search of something, before you catch his lips curl into an unreadable smile.

"Then why does it feel like I’m the idiot?"

His strained, tight words caress your heart, lips pursing at the pure, uninhibited vulnerability banding his expression. You know it’s wrong to think this way in such a pivotal moment, and perhaps in general, but between the relentless storm of your thoughts you suppose you’d love to kiss him.

"Because you are," you mutter quietly, tone soft and detached as you sort the flooding thwarting of your system.

And instead of furrowing his brow or standing up to leave you in the cold like you deserve, he does the unthinkable.

Kylo Ren escapes the confines of your palms and laughs.

The sound carries through the night like a lost prayer, enveloping your body like a velvety, warm sheet. Your lips part with forgotten apologies, eyes wide as you greedily lap up the misguided bliss of your arch-rival.

When he calms enough to speak, the vulnerability is gone from his eyes. If it hadn’t made you so agitated, you’d question if it was even there in the first place.

"Is that so?” Kylo tilts his head, letting dark tresses tumble over his forehead.

You’re dazed and confused, eyeing him like a lunatic. Between the uncertainty of your feelings and his agonizingly prompt switch up, little makes sense to you anymore.

“I say it how I see it,” you urge quietly, squeezing your palms into the soft material of your dress. With the culmination of your discussion, you finally sense the heat creeping into your face, contrasting with the goosebumps lining your arms.

He chuckles softly at your reply, but withholds any further taunting. Instead, you watch him rest his elbows on either knee, eyes closed as he takes in the evening breeze.

And although this isn’t about you, you don’t feel satiated.

Besides the awful, deep-rooted jealousy you try to sweep away, there’s a hint of concern. It’s slim and likely insignificant had you decided it to be, but instead, you pursue it.

“Why is she here?”

Kylo opens his eyes, turning toward you with more curiosity than frustration.

“I think she’s trying to make things right,” he explains lowly, eyes rolling haphazardly as he continues. “As always.”

The ambiguous answer settles into your chest like a drum, urging your heart to hammer at the uncertainty of Kylo’s admission. Making things right could mean anything. If you really wanted to know, you could ask him to clarify and satiate that selfish, irrational part of you that wants to scream at the sheer chance of them being back together after everything she—

“Are you—”

“No.” Kylo cuts off, his tone dark and definite as you flatten your lips in embarrassment. He eyes you with curiosity, eyebrows low on his face.

You flatten your lips, pinching and tugging at the little crystals lining your skirt. When you speak again, your voice is strained. “Right. Okay.”

He shifts in place, letting his knee collide with your thigh. You wince at the sensation, eyes widening when you catch the boyish smirk painting his lips.

“Why?” he questions, shining eyes betraying his flat tone.

You drop your gaze, inhaling slowly to calm the beating in your ears. Kylo watches you carefully, his steady breath mingling with yours.

“I just…” you begin, gaze flickering toward the mark your legs connect at. “I just don’t want you to make the same mistake twice.”

He huffs quietly, but you don’t let it go unnoticed. When you look at him again, his brow is quirked high. “Uh-huh.”

You frown, toying with your nailbeds as Kylo eyes you down. “I mean it.”

“Sure.”

You scoff, eyes rolling at your own, stupid curiosity and how easily Kylo managed to see right through you. “God, stop that.”

He shifts forward, resting against his elbows as he levels his gaze with yours. “You care.”

“I don’t,” you reply abruptly, wincing at your own whiney tone.

He extends a finger toward your leg, poking it gently. You shiver, but stay put. “You do.”

“I do not.”

“You so do.”

You scoff again, but there’s little bite behind it. Staying silent would mean admitting defeat, but it was the lesser evil compared to actually admitting the truth—admitting that yes, perhaps you do care and you’re way too stubborn to let him know that.

But a part of you thinks he already does. When you look at him, his gaze settles over your shoulders, flickering along the nude skin with knitted brows.

“You cold?”

“No,” you quickly deny, though the sharp goosebumps lining your arms barely help your already weak case.

Kylo huffs, shifting back to ease out of his jacket. “You’re a bad liar.”

“You need to stop giving me your clothes,” you quickly retort as his arms withdraw from the sleeves. He quirks a brow at you, smirking boyishly as he settles the jacket in his lap.

“Why?” he questions, trapping you with his teasing gaze as yours flickers between him and the jacket. As a particularly cold breeze swirls over your body, you finally capitulate with a groan.

You tug the jacket off his lap, swiftly tossing it over your back. The soft, cotton padding is warm with his body and fresh with his scent, enveloping you with a comfort you quietly appreciate.

As you shimmy deeper into the sensation, you catch Kylo eyeing you with glimmering, patient eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he looks… prideful.

“Cause I might start thinking you actually tolerate me,” you finally mutter, subtly rubbing your cheek against the smooth, leather collar.

The man’s smile sinks slightly, eyes narrowing an inch when they finally settle on your face.

“I tolerate you,” he speaks, tone so low and serious you have to squeeze your thighs together.

Your gaze rises to meet his, his confession heavy on your chest. You mindlessly pivot your body toward him, leaning in just slightly.

“Then maybe you should say that more instead of throwing your shit at me.”

He chuckles calmly, placing his palm on his thigh just at the threshold of your knee. Despite the cautiousness, you periodically feel his digits ghosting over your thin stockings.

His head angles, and your breath snags. He’s close now, lashes resting low on his cheeks.

“It’s not my fault you look good in it.”

“Shut up,” you snap quietly, but your resolve crumbles under the unyielding weight of his gaze. Kylo snickers at you, plush lips parted as he moistens them.

You squeeze your core around nothing, cheeks tinted rouge as you watch his blown-out pupils scan your face for the key to his predicament.

His breath ghosts over your lips, warm and thick with tobacco. Your heart hammers in your chest, your ears, your panties. Your eyelids flutter shut.

You’re ready. You’re so desperately ready to throw caution into the winds of this beautiful, horrible March evening and—

He says your name.

Your eyes inch loose with the frailness of his vocals, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

His hand trails up your arm, elbow, and finally rests against your trembling shoulder. When his lips part, you hover over the precipice of devastation.

Kylo’s alert, looking at you with sympathy. And nothing more.

"Not like this."

Your stomach twists with liquor and loathing. You think you might hurl the way he holds you so tenderly yet keeps you at arms length, still smiling even as your eyes sting with confused tears.

Your jaw clenches, nostrils flaring with the tremble of your lip.

"Okay."

The moment shatters like glass, piercing your lungs and depriving you of even breath.

You exhale sharply, shaking your head before pulling his jacket tighter around yourself. For now, the leather feels more familiar than the flesh-and-bone.

He leans back, gaze flicking away toward the brownstones. You watch painstakingly as he shifts his thigh away from yours. And just like that, everything between you slips away into the night.

Silence stretches between you again, heavy and stagnant like grief over something that never happened.

Kylo runs a hand through his thick locks, exhaling through his nose before speaking lowly. You wonder if he’s cold. “You should go inside.”

You hesitate as your eyebrows furrow with simmering anger. It’s not fair, you think.

But ultimately, despite the feverish tightening of your trembling lip, you nod.

“Yeah.”

You awkwardly push yourself to your feet, careful to keep the jacket nestled onto your form. Your legs threaten to give in under the sudden weight in your chest and stomach, but you persevere. Somehow, you feel like Kylo wouldn’t save you this time around.

You breathe out, hesitating for a strained beat before glancing toward the man at your feet. “Are you?”

His gaze lifts to meet yours, eyes darker than ever before. There’s little to read in his expression, but despite the apathy, you’d have this over his meaningless, beautiful smile any day.

“Eventually.”

You nod once, lingering for half a breath longer than you should. Kylo’s jaw tightens and you hope he’ll speak. You hope he’ll part his lips and urge you to come back, explain, stay.

He nods at you haphazardly before turning back toward the road.

Your belly wrings, but wordlessly, you turn heel. The weight of his jacket presses against your skin like an embrace as you head back toward the apartment.

As the door slams shut behind you, you feel your rosy cheeks cool with stray tears as you utter a desperate sob into the twisting staircase.

The darkness cries back, echoing the culmination of your heart’s anguished psalm for a man who could never love you back.

89 notes · View notes

kayewrite · 9 months ago

Text

Accidentally in Love

Bangchan x reader!!! chan x reader!! word count: 10.1k

genre: fluff and a little bit of angst. strangers to lovers!!

Summary: You were so careless. You always caught accidents!-- but then you met chan-- accidentally, was is still because of your carelessness? then.. you should do it again.

an: i know today was our midterms week but then why i cannot help but to post TT. anyways. please read it <3

What’s an accident?

Well, an accident is when you’re crossing the street, minding your own business, and suddenly a biker flips over because you may have accidentally stepped into the bike lane without noticing. “Sorry!” you call out, but honestly, how do you apologize for something so awkward?

Or maybe an accident is when you try to send a selfie to your best friend to show off your new hair, but you mistype the number and end up sending it to your mom’s boss. Now they have a picture of your duck face saved on their phone, and your mom will never let you live it down.

Oh, and don’t forget that one time you were playing catch, and somehow the ball decided to fly out of your hand in the completely wrong direction and smack someone in the face. “Oops!” isn’t going to make that less embarrassing.

These were all accidents, but honestly, you’ve started to notice a pattern here: you’re a little careless. Scratch that—you’re very careless. So careless, in fact, that even the simplest things seem to go wrong.

And now, thanks to all these accidental mess-ups, you’ve become so self-conscious that you’re a little too shy to even attempt anything without worrying you’ll mess it up.

“Ms. Kim, I swear it was an accident!” you practically begged, standing in front of your English teacher with wide, apologetic eyes. You had no assignment to present because, well… your homework somehow ended up floating in the school fountain. It had looked so promising this morning. Until it went for a swim.

Ms. Kim raised an eyebrow, but after a long sigh, she gave you a sympathetic look. “Alright, I’ll forgive you this time. But try to be more careful.”

“Yes, Ms. Kim! I promise! Thank you, and I’m so sorry again!” You rushed back to your seat, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, but of course, your best friend Chae was waiting with a grin that told you she’d witnessed the entire thing.

“I’m never going to let you live this down, you know,” she teased, leaning over with a wicked smirk.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Haha, very funny.”

Chae laughed. “You know, you could’ve just copied my assignment if you’d told me earlier.”

You let out a huff. “It was supposed to be an original poem, Chae. I’m reminding you for the hundredth time!”

“Oh, right.” She waved it off with a laugh, clearly enjoying your misfortune.

The class finally ended, and you and Chae headed to the cafeteria, where the usual chaos of students trying to grab food filled the air. Trays clattered, voices overlapped, and the smell of fried food lingered as you navigated through the bustling crowd. You had your tray of food in hand, carefully balancing it as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

“Please, not today,” you whispered to yourself, praying that for once, nothing would go wrong.

But of course, in classic "you" fashion, the universe wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

Just as you turned a corner, completely zoned out, you collided with someone walking in the opposite direction. BAM. The impact sent your tray flying. You could only watch in horror as your drink splashed all over the guy’s shirt. Food scattered everywhere, some of it landing on his shoes.

“Oh my gosh!” you shrieked, nearly dropping everything else in your hands. Napkins, where are the napkins? You grabbed a bunch from your tray, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe the stain off his uniform. “I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I swear I wasn’t looking! Oh no, look what I did…”

The guy looked down at his soaked shirt, momentarily surprised. His hair had a few strands out of place, but despite the mess, his face softened. He didn’t seem angry at all, which only made you feel worse.

“It’s okay,” he said gently, offering you a small, reassuring smile. His voice was calm, like he was trying to stop a nervous kitten from freaking out. “Really. It was just an accident.”

But you were beyond saving at this point. Your heart was hammering, and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you dabbed at his shirt, which now looked worse with the blotchy wet patches.

“No, no! This is my fault. I’m so sorry! I’ll fix it, I promise. I’ll wash it for you! Let me make it right!” Your voice came out in a frantic rush as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and pleading.

The guy chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do that. I have an extra shirt in my locker.”

“But it’s my fault!” you insisted, still dabbing uselessly at his uniform. Your eyes welled up with frustration—how could you be so careless? Again?! This was just like all the other times where accidents seemed to follow you, and this time it wasn’t just a ruined poem or a floating homework assignment. You had ruined someone’s day.

He noticed your teary eyes and sighed, his smile turning a little softer. “Look, I promise, it’s fine. I can handle a little spill.”

But your guilt wouldn’t let you accept that. “No! I—I can’t let it go like this. You don’t understand! I’ll feel terrible all day.” Without waiting for him to protest further, you grabbed his arm and gently tugged him in the direction of the nearest comfort room. “Please, let me fix this.”

His eyes widened in surprise at how determined you were. “Wait, what? Where are we going?”

“To fix your shirt!” you declared, leading him away as if it was a life-or-death mission. You handed him your jacket to cover the stain, holding it up like a shield in front of him. “You can’t walk around like this! It’s—ugh, I feel so bad. What’s your locker number?”

He laughed at how serious you were. “Arts department. But really, this is too much.”

Your head whipped around to look at him. “Arts department? No way! Mine too!” Your eyes widened in realization.

How had you never noticed him before? How could someone like him, with that gentle smile and calm voice, be so… handsome? You couldn’t stop staring at him, and suddenly, you felt even more flustered.

When you reached his locker, he pulled out a clean shirt. “See? I’m all set now. You can go back and eat,” he said, trying to brush it off, but you were having none of it.

“Absolutely not!” you said, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not leaving until I make sure everything is fixed.”

He let out another laugh, shaking his head at your stubbornness. “You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”

“Nope,” you replied firmly, standing your ground. He seemed amused by your persistence, but also a little impressed.

As you walked toward the comfort room, he glanced at you. “You know you left your food behind, right?”

“It’s fine,” you muttered, though your stomach betrayed you by grumbling at that exact moment. You cringed, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

He chuckled, his voice light and teasing. “Sounds like your stomach disagrees.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little despite your guilt. His laughter was contagious, and even though you were still panicking inside, something about his calmness was starting to settle your nerves.

By the time you reached the comfort room, you had relaxed enough to have a normal conversation. “Why are you so calm about this?” you asked as he went inside to change. “If someone did this to me, I’d be freaking out.”

“I’ve had worse accidents happen,” he called from inside, his voice echoing slightly. “This is nothing.”

You paced outside, tapping your foot nervously. Worse accidents? What could possibly be worse than having your entire lunch dumped on you? You shook your head, trying to calm yourself down.

When he finally came out, you froze. Time seemed to slow down as he ran a hand through his wet hair, his clean shirt clinging to his frame. The droplets of water sliding down his neck caught the light, making him look… well, really good. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you knew it, it was racing like it was trying to tell you something you weren’t quite ready to hear.

“See? All fixed,” he said, flashing that same comforting smile.

You nodded, but your thoughts were far from calm. Why is my heart doing this? It was as if everything about this moment was trying to make you notice something you’d never felt before. Something fluttery and confusing, but undeniably there.

You got quiet for a moment, staring up at him, completely lost in thought. His wet hair, the way his shirt clung to him, that easy smile—it was like everything else around you blurred, and for just a second, you forgot where you were.

“Hello? Earth to you?” he teased, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. “Oh! Uh, right, yes. It’s done,” you mumbled awkwardly, stepping back and fumbling with the sleeves of your jacket. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you wished you could disappear right then and there.

He laughed, a soft, easy sound that made your heart skip a beat again. “You sure? You look a little lost.”

“No, no! I’m totally fine!” you said, waving your hands in front of you. “I can go now.”

Before you could make your great escape, he stepped closer, extending his hand toward you with that same amused smile.

“I’m Chan, by the way,” he said, his hand hanging in the air between you two.

For a moment, you just stared at his outstretched hand, your brain working overtime to process what was happening. Chan. His name is Chan. You reached out slowly, feeling the warmth of his hand as your fingers met his.

Your voice barely came out, still a little shaken from the chaos of the last few minutes. “I—I’m…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently.

“I’m… just really sorry again,” you blurted out, completely missing the introduction moment, but he only laughed more, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, really sorry,” he joked, his smile growing wider.

You felt your cheeks heat up even more. “No, no! I mean, I’m—” You cleared your throat, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m y/n.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, y/n , it’s nice to meet you too. Even under… interesting circumstances.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the tension starting to lift. “Yeah… sorry about the whole… you know.”

He waved it off like it was nothing. “Trust me, this is one of the more entertaining things that’s happened to me this week.”

You smiled, feeling a little more at ease. He was so easygoing, so calm, and it made the situation feel less like a disaster and more like a… funny mishap. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling the weight of your guilt finally easing up.

But as you looked at him again, standing there, smiling at you like this was the most natural thing in the world, that flutter in your chest returned. Why am I still nervous?

“Hey,” Chan said, breaking your train of thought. “If it makes you feel better, I’m glad we bumped into each other.” He winked playfully, and before you could respond, he added, “I mean, now I know there’s someone who cares enough to make sure my shirt’s spotless.”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile too widely. “Yeah, well… I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

Chan grinned, giving you a quick nod. “I appreciate it. Anyway, I’ll see you around, y/n.”

And just like that, he turned to leave, but something inside you wanted to stop him. You stood there for a moment, watching as he walked away, your mind still reeling from everything that had just happened.

What just happened? You thought as you absently touched your hand where his had been moments ago.

Days passed, and you went back to your usual routine as the good student you were—well, the good student who occasionally made accidents. You submitted your assignments on time, participated in class, and did everything as you should. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a lingering thought in the back of your mind. A name that kept coming back to you: Chan.

After that incident in the cafeteria, you hadn’t seen him again. It was as if he’d vanished into thin air, leaving you with nothing but the memory of his laugh and that smile. You weren’t sure why you kept thinking about him. It wasn’t like anything major had happened, right? Just an accident. And yet…

“Your drawing is really nice,” Jeongin’s voice snapped you back to reality. He leaned over, studying your work on the easel with an approving nod.

You blinked, looking at your painting. It was your class in the arts department, and you’d been lost in thought, working quietly. But now that you looked at what you’d painted, your eyes widened.

It was a man. A man with soft features, standing against a background of delicate flowers. The detail in his face, the way his eyes seemed to hold a quiet kindness… it hit you like a ton of bricks. Chan. You painted Chan.

“What—” you muttered, staring in disbelief. “Did I just…?”

You turned to Jeongin, who was giving you a confused look. “What’s wrong? Did you paint that by accident or something?” he teased, not realizing how spot on he was.

Your face flushed. “I—uh—no, it’s just…”

“Come on, it looks really good,” Jeongin said with a grin. “You should be proud of it.”

You laughed nervously. How did I not realize I was painting him? You thought, staring at the canvas. The flowers around him gave the whole thing an almost dreamlike quality, and the expression on his face was so familiar it made your stomach flip. What is wrong with me?

Before you could process it, the teacher walked around the room, acknowledging everyone’s work. “Alright, class, it’s time for everyone to explain their paintings,” she announced, clapping her hands to gather everyone’s attention.

Oh no. You glanced at your painting again, heart racing. How were you going to explain this?

As each student took their turn, you grew more and more anxious. And when it was finally your turn, you stood in front of the class, staring at the painting as if it might offer you some kind of excuse for what you’d done.

“So,” the teacher prompted, “tell us about your work.”

You swallowed hard, gripping your hands together. “Uh, well… this is a… um…” You stuttered, completely lost for words. What do I say?!

Jeongin, sitting in the back, raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your nervousness.

“I—uh, I painted a man,” you started lamely, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. “With, um… flowers.” Great. Very insightful.

The class waited, but you had no idea how to continue. “The flowers are, um… a representation of…” Oh no, why did I paint flowers? You stared at them, desperately trying to come up with something meaningful to say.

“…of how fragile and… fleeting moments can be?” you mumbled, hoping it sounded deep. You heard a few murmurs of approval from your classmates, and you exhaled in relief. Okay, not bad so far.

“And the man?” the teacher asked, her head tilted as she studied your work.

You froze. The man. Oh no.

“I, uh, I didn’t really plan on… painting him. He just… kind of happened?” You winced at your own explanation. The teacher raised an eyebrow, but thankfully, she didn’t press further.

“Well,” she said after a pause, “it’s beautifully done. Accidental or not, you’ve captured a lot of emotion here.”

You nodded stiffly, trying to suppress the rising panic inside you. Emotion? I didn’t even realize I was painting Chan!

As you sat back down, Jeongin leaned over with a smirk. “So… did the flowers represent how ‘fleeting’ your accidental crush is?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t have a crush!”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he said with a knowing grin. “You keep telling yourself that.”

One day, as you were walking down the hallway, your arms full of books and your mind racing, you couldn’t stop mumbling to yourself. The upcoming oral examination was consuming your thoughts, and you found yourself counting the names of famous artists on your fingers, trying to memorize them.

“Okay, Picasso… Monet… Van Gogh… oh, and Da Vinci…” you muttered, completely focused on your mental checklist.

Just as you rounded a corner, you collided with someone. Your books flew out of your hands, scattering across the floor with a loud thud. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, dropping to your knees to gather your belongings.

“Hey, it’s fine!” a familiar voice replied. You glanced up, and your heart skipped a beat. It was Chan.

“We meet again,” he said, a playful smile lighting up his face as he helped you collect your scattered books.

“Wow, what are the odds?” you replied, still a bit in shock. “It seems we have a knack for bumping into each other… literally.” You couldn’t help but laugh, a bit embarrassed by the situation.

He chuckled, his laughter warm and inviting. “Yeah, at this rate, we might as well call it fate,” he joked, handing you the last of your books.

You stood up, brushing off your pants and trying to regain your composure. “This time, I was so focused on artists that I completely forgot to look where I was going,” you admitted, a sheepish grin on your face. “What about you? Are you just wandering the hallways, waiting for your next accidental encounter?”

Chan raised an eyebrow, pretending to think. “Maybe I’m just here to collect the most interesting stories,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “And you, my friend, seem to be a goldmine.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a playful banter sparking between you. “Well, if that’s the case, I should probably start charging you for my accidental stories,” you shot back, enjoying the lightness of the moment.

“I’m all for it,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning slightly against the wall, making himself comfortable. “So, what else do you have planned for today, besides running into me?”

You hesitated, your nerves creeping back as you remembered your oral exam. “Just… trying to survive this exam,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I have to present on famous artists, and I keep mixing up their names.”

Chan’s expression softened, and he nodded in understanding. “You’ll be great, I’m sure. If you want, I can help you practice later. I mean, I have some free time in the arts department.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Did he just offer to help me? “Really? That would be amazing! I could definitely use some backup,” you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Perfect! Just let me know when you’re ready,” he said, flashing that signature smile that made your heart race. “And try not to bump into anyone else on your way to the exam, okay?”

You laughed again, feeling lighter than you had all day. “No promises! I might have a talent for accidents.”

With a final wave, he turned to leave, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was different—something more than just another accident. Your thoughts raced as you watched him walk away, the hallway buzzing with energy. You had a lot to prepare for, but suddenly, the day felt a little brighter.

As the days passed, you found yourself wishing for those unexpected encounters with Chan every time you walked through the hallways. Maybe if I just keep my eyes peeled… But it seemed like the universe had a sense of humor; you only ever bumped into him when you least expected it—just like the last time.

Today, you were on a mission. You needed a specific art book for your upcoming project, and, of course, it was stored on the highest shelf in the library. Determined to get your hands on it, you made your way to the stairs, your heart racing with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again.

You climbed the stairs, reaching for the book that was tantalizingly out of reach. Just as you stretched your arm up, your foot slipped slightly on the step, and in a split second, you stumbled backward, teetering precariously.

“Whoa!” a familiar voice called out, and before you could process it, Chan was right there, steadying you with a firm grip on your arm. “Careful there! Looks like you’re trying to give gravity a run for its money.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart pounding—not just from the near mishap but from his unexpected presence. “Chan! I didn’t see you there!” you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Clearly,” he replied, his lips curving into that teasing smile that always made your heart skip. “What’s the goal here? Trying to become a librarian superhero?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I was just trying to get this book.” You gestured to the high shelf, and he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Do you need a hand?” he offered, glancing up at the shelf. “I’m pretty sure I can reach that without turning it into a circus act.”

You nodded, grateful for his help. “That would be amazing! I think I’d break the library record for most accidents in one visit if I tried again.”

As he stepped closer to the shelf, you couldn’t help but admire the way he moved with ease. He reached up, effortlessly grabbing the book and handing it to you. “Here you go, the hero of the day.”

You took the book from him, your fingers brushing against his for just a moment. “Thank you! You’ve saved my day.”

He shrugged, playfully nonchalant. “Just doing my part to help a fellow artist avoid disaster.” There was a pause, and you both shared a laugh, the air between you crackling with an easy connection.

“So, what’s this one about?” he asked, glancing at the cover.

“It’s about different art movements throughout history,” you said, opening the book to show him some of the illustrations. “I thought it would help with my project, but I got sidetracked with all the high shelves.”

“Maybe we should have a study session later,” he suggested, leaning casually against the shelf, making it seem like the most natural thing in the world. “I can help you brainstorm some ideas, and we can avoid any more… accidents.”

You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest. “That sounds great! I’d love the company.”

“Perfect! Just let me know when you’re free,” he replied, flashing that charming smile again. “And try not to climb any more shelves in the meantime.”

As you watched him leave, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Each accidental encounter felt like a step closer to something more, and you found yourself wishing that every day could be filled with these little moments.

You were placing your things in your locker one day when you noticed him—Chan—just a few lockers down. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you organized your books.

This time, it felt different. You weren’t colliding into him by chance; you were actually seeing him on purpose. “Hi!” you greeted, your voice brighter than you intended.

“Hello,” he replied, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

You hesitated for a moment, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. Finally, you took a breath and said, “Do you have time today? I’m going to brainstorm some ideas for my project at a café.”

He paused, considering it for a moment. “I have lots of time,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “What café are you thinking of?”

You felt a rush of excitement at his eagerness. “There’s that little one down the street, the one with the comfy chairs and those amazing pastries,” you said, your enthusiasm bubbling over. “I could really use a fresh perspective.”

“Sounds perfect. I’m in,” he said, closing his locker and leaning against it casually. “When do you want to head over?”

“Right now?” you suggested, feeling a little nervous but also thrilled at the idea of spending more time with him. “I have my books, and I could really use some caffeine to kickstart my creativity.”

“Let’s do it!” he replied, his enthusiasm contagious. He gestured for you to lead the way, and as you walked side by side down the hallway, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As you exited the school, the warm sunlight enveloped you, and the hustle and bustle of the outside world filled your ears. You glanced at Chan, who walked with an easy confidence. “So, what do you want to brainstorm about?” he asked, looking over at you with genuine interest.

“Well, I’m thinking about how to blend different art movements for my project. I want to create something that reflects both modern and classical styles,” you explained, your thoughts starting to flow.

“I love that idea!” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “You could play with color palettes and textures from different eras. That could really bring your piece to life.”

As you talked, you found yourself more at ease with each passing moment. The café came into view, and you felt a rush of anticipation. “Here it is! I hope they still have those pastries,” you said, glancing up at the sign.

“Oh, they do. Trust me, I’ve been here enough to know their secret menu,” he said with a mischievous grin. “You’re in for a treat.”

Once inside, you ordered your drinks and pastries, and found a cozy table by the window. The atmosphere buzzed with the sound of chatter and clinking cups, adding to the warmth of the moment.

You both settled in, and as you opened your notebook to jot down ideas, you felt a thrill of inspiration rush through you. “Okay, let’s brainstorm!” you said, eager to dive into your project with Chan by your side.

His presence made everything feel easier, and as you exchanged ideas, laughter, and stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the start of something wonderful—something that wasn’t just an accident.

Ever since that day, meeting Chan had become the most exciting part of your routine. Each moment spent with him made your heart race, and the days felt brighter.

“Thank you so much! My project received a nice grade,” you said, your eyes sparkling with gratitude.

“You deserve it,” Chan replied, his smile warm and encouraging. “Your hard work really paid off.”

Feeling a rush of happiness, you mustered the courage to ask, “Are you free today? I want to treat you to something nice to say thanks.”

Chan tilted his head, considering. “I have something to do, but who would let a free meal pass by?” He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Perfect! Let’s go to that new restaurant that just opened downtown. I’ve heard they have amazing food,” you suggested, unable to contain your excitement.

“Lead the way!” he said, his enthusiasm matching yours.

As you made your way to the restaurant, the atmosphere buzzed with energy. The sun was shining brightly, and the warm breeze wrapped around you, making everything feel perfect.

Once you arrived, the tantalizing aroma of delicious dishes greeted you at the door. You both stepped inside, and after being seated at a cozy table, you glanced over the menu.

“Everything looks so good! I don’t even know where to start,” you said, biting your lip in indecision.

“Let’s order a bunch of things to share. It’s more fun that way!” Chan suggested, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You both decided on a variety of dishes, and as you waited for the food, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything—your favorite movies, music, and even your childhood dreams.

“I wanted to be an astronaut for the longest time,” Chan admitted with a laugh. “But then I realized I get dizzy just from spinning around in circles. So much for that dream!”

You laughed, picturing him in a space suit, and then replied, “At least you’re realistic! I wanted to be an artist, but then I discovered I’m more of a ‘creative disaster’ than anything else.”

“Hey, you’re an amazing artist! Look at that project of yours,” he said, gesturing to your notebook resting on the table. “It shows how creative you really are.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment. “Thanks, Chan. That means a lot coming from you.”

Just then, the server arrived with a feast of colorful dishes, and the two of you dove in, sharing bites and savoring each flavor. Laughter filled the air as you both shared stories and friendly banter, each moment deepening your connection.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in ages,” you said between bites, a satisfied grin on your face.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it! I have to admit, I was a little worried you wouldn’t want to hang out with me again after our first ‘accidental’ meeting,” Chan said, a teasing tone in his voice.

“Are you kidding? Those accidents turned out to be the best thing that’s happened to me!” you replied, your heart racing at the thought of how lucky you felt.

As you continued to eat, you realized that these moments with Chan were becoming something you looked forward to every day. The laughter, the food, and the warmth of his presence made you feel alive. And you couldn’t help but wonder where this unexpected journey with him might lead.

One day, as you were walking down the hallway, your heart raced at the thought of bumping into Chan again—not literally bumping, of course. You kept glancing around the corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, and your smile widened when you finally spotted him at the end of the hall.

He was really handsome, and the way he brushed his hair back only added to his charm. Without thinking, you picked up your pace, practically running to him.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath.

“Hey there!” Chan replied, his face lighting up at your enthusiasm.

“What are you up to?” you asked, trying to sound casual even though you were bursting with excitement at seeing him again.

“I’m working on a project for my photography class,” he explained, adjusting the camera strap slung over his shoulder. “Just trying to find some inspiration.”

“Do you need help?” you offered, eager to spend more time with him.

“Yeah, that would be awesome! Thank you!” he said, visibly relieved.

You both decided to head to the nearest park, where Chan could take pictures of the vibrant scenery. As you arrived, the sun peeked through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was fresh and filled with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves.

You watched as he captured shots of the flowers blooming, the trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and the ducks swimming lazily in the pond. Every now and then, you noticed his brows furrowing in concentration as he reviewed the images.

“Are you happy with those?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“Not quite,” he admitted, letting out a sigh. “It just feels like something is missing.”

“Maybe try capturing something more candid,” you suggested, trying to help. “Like when someone is laughing or playing in the park. Those moments can tell a story.”

Chan looked at you with a spark of inspiration in his eyes. “That’s a great idea! Let’s wait for some people to come by and see what happens.”

As you both waited, you continued to chat and joke around, enjoying each other’s company. Finally, a group of children ran past, laughing and chasing each other. Chan’s camera clicked rapidly as he captured their joyful energy.

“See? That’s the kind of moment I was talking about!” you said, beaming at him.

“I see it now! Thank you for your help!” Chan said, his eyes shining with excitement. “You really have a good eye for this.”

You felt a warm rush of pride at his compliment, and as you watched him work, you couldn’t help but admire how passionate he was about photography.

After taking several more pictures, Chan turned to you, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s get a picture of us together! It’ll be a fun memory.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you said, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness.

“Come on! It’ll be great. Plus, I need to document our collaboration,” he insisted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You relented, and he set the timer on his camera before rushing back to stand beside you. As the camera clicked, you both laughed, and you felt a warmth in your heart that made you forget your nerves.

“Perfect!” Chan said, reviewing the picture. “We look awesome together.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, and for a moment, everything around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the budding connection that was blossoming. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this day was just another beautiful accident that led you closer to Chan.

It was midterms day, and the library buzzed with the nervous energy of students cramming for their exams. You sat at a table piled high with notes, textbooks, and a half-empty coffee cup, trying to absorb as much information as possible.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see Chan sliding into the chair next to yours, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Hey, ready for this?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Not even close,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this material.”

“Need a study buddy?” he offered, pulling out his own notes. “I could use a break from memorizing everything too. We can help each other out!”

“Sure, that sounds great!” you replied, relieved to have his company.

As the two of you delved into your notes, discussing concepts and quizzing each other, the atmosphere shifted from one of stress to camaraderie. With every question Chan asked, your confidence grew, and soon you found yourself explaining things more clearly.

“Wow, you really know your stuff!” Chan remarked, his expression genuinely impressed.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at the compliment. “Thanks! I guess all the late nights are finally paying off,” you said, trying to play it cool.

After a couple of hours of intense studying, you both took a break, stretching and grabbing a quick snack from the café. As you were chatting and laughing, a group of your friends passed by and stopped to gawk at the scene.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” one of your friends asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you two… studying together?”

“Yeah, just helping each other out,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your heart raced at their teasing tone.

Your friend nudged you playfully. “Helping each other out? Is that all?” They smirked knowingly.

“Uh, he’s just a friend,” you stammered, suddenly unsure of how to explain your connection to Chan. The truth was, he felt like more than just a friend, but you didn’t know how to articulate that.

“Sure, a friend,” your friend teased, winking at you. “It looks like there’s something more going on!”

Chan chuckled, clearly amused by the situation, and you felt a rush of embarrassment at the attention. “We really are just studying,” he assured them, his tone light and playful.

“Okay, okay,” your friend said, holding up their hands in mock surrender. “We’ll let you two get back to it. But don’t forget to let us know when you finally admit it!”

As they walked away, you couldn’t help but glance at Chan, who was still smiling at the exchange. “Sorry about that,” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like… well, you know.”

Chan shook his head, still grinning. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, it is nice to spend time with you. We make a good team.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, we really do,” you agreed, a soft smile creeping onto your face.

As you settled back into your study session, the moment hung in the air between you—a promise of something more than just friendship, waiting to be explored.

The midterms had drained you completely. The lack of sleep and the stress from weeks of studying had finally taken their toll. You promised yourself that after the last exam, you would treat yourself to a good night’s sleep and a juicy steak—something to celebrate the end of your academic agony.

When the final exam wrapped up, a rush of exhilaration surged through you. You couldn’t help but throw your papers into the air, your laughter mingling with that of your friends. It was a celebration—freedom at last!

“Who’s ready to party?” one of your friends shouted, and the group erupted into cheers.

“I’m calling Chan!” you exclaimed, feeling a burst of happiness. You pulled out your phone, dialing his number, but after a few rings, it went to voicemail. You frowned, thinking he must be busy with his own post-exam plans. Shrugging it off, you put your phone away and joined your friends, who were already dancing to the music blasting from the speakers.

That night, you found yourself at the nearest bar, the energy around you vibrant and electric. You ordered a drink, savoring the coolness as it slid down your throat, and soon the dance floor called to you. You let loose, dancing and laughing, feeling all the stress melt away with each beat of the music.

After a few drinks, you felt invincible. You spun around, arms wide open, embracing the joy of the moment. That was when you noticed him.

Not too far away, standing at the bar with a drink in hand, was Chan. He looked relaxed in a casual outfit, chatting and laughing with a couple of friends. Your heart skipped a beat. It was the first time you’d seen him for first day of midterms, and somehow, he looked even more handsome in the dim light of the bar.

You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Should you approach him? The thought made your stomach flutter. But as you watched him, you noticed he hadn’t seen you yet.

Deciding to make your move, you grabbed your drink and wove your way through the crowd, the music thumping in your ears. When you finally reached him, he turned, and his eyes lit up with surprise.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!” Chan exclaimed, his smile wide and genuine.

“Hey! I just finished my exams, so I thought I’d celebrate,” you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the fluttering in your chest. “What about you?”

“Same here! I needed a break after all that studying,” he replied, leaning slightly closer, making it easier to hear each other over the music. “Looks like you’re having a good time.”

“I am! I thought I’d treat myself, you know?” You took a sip of your drink, feeling a bit more confident. “How about you? Are you enjoying your night?”

“Definitely! It’s nice to unwind,” he said, glancing around the bar. “You should come join us. We’re about to play some pool.”

You felt a surge of excitement at the invitation. “Sounds fun! Let’s go!”

As you walked toward the pool table together, the noise of the bar faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. Your heart raced at the thought of spending time with him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night might be the beginning of something special.

Chan led you to the pool table, where a group of his friends was gathered. The atmosphere was lively, laughter and playful banter filling the air.

“This is Han,” he said, pointing to a tall guy with a warm smile. “He’s the best pool player here—don’t let him fool you with that innocent face.”

Han grinned, nudging Chan playfully. “Yeah, right. You’re just scared I’ll beat you again!”

“And this,” Chan continued, gesturing to a guy who was sprawled over the table, “is Seungmin. Don’t mind him; he’s just being dramatic.”

Seungmin lifted his head slightly, a smirk on his face. “Hey! I’m just conserving my energy for my inevitable victory,” he quipped before flopping back down, causing everyone to chuckle.

“..over there is Yuni,” Chan said, nodding toward a girl with vibrant hair and an infectious smile who was chatting animatedly with another friend. However, as she caught sight of you standing next to Chan, her expression shifted slightly. There was something in her gaze, a hint of judgment that made you feel self-conscious, as if she was silently questioning why you were with him.

You smiled at the lively introductions, trying to shake off the unease. “It’s great to meet you all! Chan’s been telling me a bit about you,” you said, glancing at Chan, who was trying to look innocent.

“Only good things, right?” Chan interjected with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Of course!” you laughed, enjoying the banter, but you couldn’t shake off Yuni’s penetrating look.

“So, what’s the plan?” Han asked, leaning against the table. “Are we playing a round of pool, or is it too easy for you guys?”

Chan glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “How about a little wager? Loser buys the next round of drinks.”

“Deal!” you replied, excitement bubbling up inside you, determined to prove yourself. “But I’m going to win.”

Seungmin raised his head just enough to give you a mock salute. “Good luck with that!”

As Chan set up the game, you could feel Yuni’s eyes on you, scrutinizing your every move. It made you slightly anxious, but you tried to focus on the game instead. The atmosphere felt more relaxed among Chan's friends, and it made you feel like you were part of something special. Chan’s presence was comforting, and you found yourself stealing glances at him, your heart racing every time your eyes met.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!” Chan challenged, holding the cue stick with a confident grin. You couldn’t help but smile back, ready to take on the challenge, even if Yuni’s judgment lingered at the back of your mind.

The game began, and you focused intently on the table. Chan broke first, sending the balls scattering across the green felt. His movements were fluid and confident, and you admired the way he handled the cue stick.

“Nice shot!” Han cheered, clapping him on the back as the solid balls spread across the table. Chan beamed, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Your turn,” Chan said, stepping aside and motioning for you to take your shot. You felt a rush of excitement mixed with nerves as you approached the table, trying to shake off Yuni's scrutinizing gaze.

You lined up your shot, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. “Here goes nothing,” you mumbled to yourself. With a swift motion, you struck the cue ball, watching it collide with the colored balls. You sunk a solid, and a rush of exhilaration washed over you.

“Wow, not bad!” Chan said, genuine admiration in his voice.

“You’re going to have to do better than that!” you replied playfully, trying to channel the confidence you felt.

As the game continued, laughter and friendly banter filled the air. You found yourself lost in the moment, enjoying the thrill of competition and the company of Chan and his friends. You occasionally caught Yuni’s gaze again, but this time, you shrugged it off.

You and Chan worked well together, each of you strategizing and laughing through the ups and downs of the game. “I think we make a pretty good team,” Chan said, grinning at you after you executed a tricky shot.

“Team? I thought we were opponents!” you teased back, leaning on the table with a playful smile.

“Fine, but I’m going to crush you next round,” he shot back, feigning a fierce glare.

The game was intense, with each of you sinking balls and trying to outsmart the other. After a particularly close shot where you barely missed sinking the eight ball, you groaned dramatically, drawing laughter from the group.

“Come on, you can do better than that!” Seungmin teased, lifting his head for a moment to join in the laughter.

“Hey, I’m still getting used to the pressure of having such talented players around me!” you shot back, winking at him.

Eventually, the game came down to the last ball, and the tension in the air was palpable. You took a moment to breathe, steadying your hands as you lined up your shot.

“Just focus,” Chan whispered, stepping close enough that you could feel his warmth. “You got this.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of determination. As you took your shot, the cue ball sailed smoothly into the eight ball, sending it into the pocket with a satisfying clack. Cheers erupted from your friends, and you jumped up in excitement, unable to contain your joy.

“Did I just win?” you exclaimed, wide-eyed with disbelief.

“Looks like it!” Han said, clapping you on the back. “Great job!”

Yuni, however, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, still watching you closely. You tried not to let her expression dampen your mood. “So, who’s buying the next round?” you asked, turning your attention back to the group, hoping to shift the atmosphere.

“Loser buys,” Chan declared, pretending to pout. “But I guess that means I owe you one!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you treat me later,” you said with a teasing grin.

As the group moved toward the karaoke area, you felt an electric energy between you and Chan. With each passing moment, you were more grateful for the accidental encounters that had brought you to this point. Who knew a series of mishaps would lead to a night full of laughter, friendship, and possibly something more?

And even if Yuni still looked at you like a puzzle she needed to solve, you were too busy enjoying the moment to let it bother you. After all, you were finally having fun, and it felt good.

As the night deepened, the lively chatter and laughter of the group created a warm atmosphere. You found a cozy seat at the edge of the karaoke stage, sipping on your drink and watching Chan as he jokingly sang off-key. Everything felt perfect until you noticed Yuni making her way toward you, her expression a mix of confidence and something more sinister.

Her confident stride and sharp smile cutting through the laughter and music. She leaned closer, her voice low and dripping with a condescending sweetness. “Hey there, just wanted to have a little chat.”

“Sure,” you said cautiously, bracing yourself for whatever she had to say.

“Listen,” she said, crossing her arms, “Chan is mine. You need to back off. He’s not interested in you.” Her tone had that classic mean girl edge, and your heart raced as you absorbed her words.

“No,” you replied firmly, trying to match her intensity. “I like Chan, and I think he likes me too. I’m not going to just walk away because you say so.”

Her laughter was sharp, almost mocking. “Oh, really? You think he’s into you? That’s adorable.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Let me show you some proof.”

Before you could respond, Yuni stood up, her heels clicking against the floor as she strode confidently towards Chan. You felt your heart drop, your gut twisting in anticipation and dread. The entire bar seemed to fade into the background as you watched her approach him.

She whispered something in his ear, and for a moment, Chan turned to look at you, confusion crossing his features. Then, without any hesitation, Yuni leaned in and kissed him. The moment felt like a punch to the gut, and time seemed to freeze as you watched Chan’s reaction.

He didn’t push her away.

That was your sign. Your breath caught in your throat, a mixture of disbelief and disappointment washing over you. You stood up abruptly, the weight of the moment crashing down on you. You couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

Ignoring the sounds of laughter and music, you turned and made your way toward the exit, the laughter of your friends fading behind you. Each step felt heavier as the reality settled in. You thought you had something special with Chan, but seeing him with Yuni shattered that illusion in an instant.

You stepped out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath to calm the storm brewing inside you. You needed to collect your thoughts. This wasn’t the end, you reminded yourself. It was a moment, not a conclusion. You wouldn’t let Yuni or this situation define how you felt about Chan or yourself.

As you walked away from the bar, your resolve strengthened. You would figure this out—whatever it took.

You stumbled out of the bar, the cool night air hitting your flushed cheeks like a splash of reality. Once outside, you leaned against the cool brick wall, the laughter and music fading into the background as the tears you’d been holding back spilled over.

You cried silently, each sob echoing the turmoil inside you. You knew it; deep down, you had always known. All those moments—each little accident that had brought you to Chan—had turned out to be just that: accidents. The awkward encounters, the clumsy run-ins, the way you had been drawn together—it was all a series of mishaps that had somehow made you believe there was something more.

Meeting Chan had felt like fate at first, like a spark that ignited something inside you. But now, standing alone in the dark, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it had all been a fluke, a twist of the universe that had no real purpose.

“An accident is an accident,” you murmured through your tears, repeating the words like a mantra. Every encounter had been a result of your own clumsiness, your carelessness leading you into a whirlwind of emotions you weren’t prepared to handle.

You thought about how carefree you had felt with him, the way he made you laugh and the comfort of his presence. But now, that joy felt tainted, overshadowed by the image of him kissing Yuni, the girl who had made it clear she wanted him. It felt like a cruel joke, and you were the punchline.

As the tears flowed, you took deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside. It was time to let go of the fantasy you had built around Chan, to accept that maybe what you felt wasn’t meant to be.

Wiping your eyes, you stood up straighter, determined not to let this moment define you. It hurt, but you wouldn’t let it break you. “You deserve better,” you whispered to yourself.

With one last deep breath, you turned away from the bar and started to walk. It was time to reclaim your night, even if it meant facing the reality of the situation head-on. No more accidents; you needed to be more careful, not just with your surroundings but with your heart.

As you walked home, you made a promise to yourself. You would move on, even if it took time. You would find a way to let go of the ‘what-ifs’ and embrace whatever came next, accidents or not.

Days turned into a blur, and despite Chan's constant messages lighting up your phone, you chose to ignore them. Why would he contact you after what happened? You found yourself lost in thought as you folded clothes, the fabric slipping through your fingers. A sudden craving for coffee hit you, breaking through your distracted haze.

With a determined sigh, you made your way to the coffee shop. As you approached, doubt crept in. What if you ran into Chan? You paused, took a deep breath, and reassured yourself, If it’s meant to happen, then let it be.

Stepping inside, you felt a wave of relief wash over you when you didn’t see him. You took your sweet time, savoring the aroma of freshly brewed coffee as you glanced at the menu, letting the moment distract you.

Just as you were about to leave, you caught sight of him standing at the entrance. He looked surprised to see you, his eyes widening slightly.

“Can we talk?” he asked, stepping closer.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, your curiosity outweighing your apprehension. You found a small table in the corner, and he sat down across from you, his demeanor shifting to one of earnestness.

He glanced down, his brow furrowed in thought. “What do you want to drink? I can get you something.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m okay; I already have some.”

His gaze softened as he leaned in slightly, studying your face. “Why have you been ignoring my messages?”

You let out a soft sigh, your heart racing at the vulnerability in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was busy.”

He nodded, his expression filled with understanding. “But why did you leave the party without saying goodbye? I was looking for you.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just had to go home. That’s all.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Yuni… she tells me everything.”

You fell silent, unsure of how to respond.

“The truth is, after that party, I’m ignoring Yuni. I’m never talking to her again.”

“Why would you do that?” you asked, concern creeping into your tone. The thought of him standing up to her made your heart flutter.

“Because she hurt you,” he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion.

You felt a pang in your chest. I’m not hurt because of her… I’m hurt because I was careless, you thought to yourself, grappling with your conflicting emotions.

“Look, I was drunk,” he continued, his eyes filled with regret. “I only realized she kissed me after I pushed her away... and then I saw you running.”

You could see the weight of his words pressing down on him. “You don’t need to explain,” you murmured, trying to keep your composure.

“I need to explain,” he insisted, leaning forward, his intensity palpable. “I don’t want you away from me.”

“Chan…” you called softly, feeling your heart race.

“You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, “after that accident of meeting you… my life changed.”

His confession hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt your breath hitch, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his words. Your heart pounded in your chest as you processed what he was saying. Could it be true?

Chan’s words lingered in the air, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. You could feel the weight of the moment, the vulnerability in his voice pulling at your heart.

"Meeting you..." he hesitated, his gaze falling to the table for a second before lifting back to you. "It felt like one of those accidents that just... changed everything. And at first, I thought it was just that—a coincidence, a bump in the hallway. But then... it wasn’t."

You stayed silent, your pulse quickening as he continued.

"I wasn’t expecting it. To feel this way. But… I think I’ve been falling for you. Accidentally in love, if you want to call it that."

His confession took your breath away, the rawness of it catching you off guard. You tried to respond, but the words got stuck in your throat. He smiled softly at your reaction, the kind of smile that carried relief but also nervousness, as if he wasn’t sure what you’d say next.

"I know everything between us started with these random moments," Chan continued, his voice low and sincere. "But those ‘accidents’ became the best part of my day. Seeing you in the hallway, at the coffee shop… it’s like you became my favorite surprise."

You swallowed hard, the emotions swirling in your chest almost too much to bear. "Chan... I..." you started, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. The truth was, you’d felt it too—that strange sense of anticipation every time you thought you might see him, the way your heart raced whenever your paths crossed.

His hand gently reached across the table, brushing against yours, and you felt warmth spread through you. "I don’t want to lose you," he said softly. "I don’t care about the circumstances. I just want to be with you, whether it's an accident or fate."

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t just an accident anymore. Maybe it never was. The two of you were brought together by chance, but now, it felt like something deeper.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Maybe accidents aren’t so bad after all," you said with a shy smile.

His eyes lit up at your words, and a smile slowly formed on his face. "Yeah?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

"Yeah," you nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I think I’ve been falling for you too, Chan."

He let out a soft laugh, a sound filled with both relief and joy. "I’m so glad you said that," he murmured, his hand closing around yours. "Because I really don’t want to go through another day pretending I don’t feel this way."

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. Maybe the best things really do happen by accident.

Chan’s hand, warm and steady, held yours like an anchor, and for the first time in days, the weight on your chest seemed to lift. What started as random, fleeting moments had turned into something real, something neither of you could deny any longer.

"Maybe," you said softly, meeting his eyes, "we were supposed to find each other like this—through all these accidents."

He smiled at that, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "Then I guess I'm grateful for every one of them," he said, his voice tender. "Because they brought me to you."

The tension that had been hanging over you for so long melted away, replaced with a quiet sense of happiness. What you thought were accidents, moments of carelessness, were really the universe pushing you toward each other, piece by piece.

You realized that sometimes, the best things in life don’t come with planning or expectations. Sometimes, they come when you're not looking—an accidental meeting that turns into something much more. And now, sitting across from Chan, his hand in yours, you knew that this wasn’t just an accident anymore. It was the start of something real.

And just like that, the uncertainty faded away. You had no idea what the future held, but you didn’t need to know. Right here, right now, was enough.

Because in the end, maybe the best kind of love really is the one you stumble into, accidentally.

an: a heart, reblog, and comment is very much appreciated. thankyou

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oddinary4bts · 2 months ago

Text

Be With You | ch 5

☆summary: who knew that the hot guy you've been paired with for a class project is also a kind soul? Certainly not you, and you feel yourself falling even though you know you shouldn't. Will it be your demise, or will it all work out in the end?

☆pairing: Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: slow burn strangers to lovers, college!au, smut, angst and fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, talks about oc's ex (name reveal oop), explicit content: talks about oral sex (female receiving), nipple play, dry humping/grinding, jerking off, hickeys, basically a hell of a lot of grinding tbh, cumshot

☆word count: 8.2k

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here

☆a/n: another chapter for y'all :) and thank you to @moonleeai for your amazing work as my beta reader, I love you and am forever thankful for you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

Cold snowflakes Withered down Until you bloom As a spring flower I'll be with you

Be With You, Ateez (english translation)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, October 5th

The park is warm, the breeze reminiscing of summer long gone. Though the leaves have been changing colours, a myriad of different shades of yellow, orange, red and green adorning the branches, you almost feel like summer might be coming back.

But the cold lingering in the shade is a clear indication that winter is coming in just a few months.

Today doesn’t really hint at that though. The park is crowded, music playing from the speaker of a group somewhere on your left, and people are bathing in the sun, sharing snacks and drinks as they sit in the grass, or some of them on blankets. You’re sitting on such a blanket, your lips spread in a smile as you listen to Wooyoung and San’s bickering next to you.

They’ve been at it for what must be twenty minutes now. Something about a sports game you haven’t watched and don’t really care for, but they are enthusiastic, waving their hands around as they speak. Their friend Jongho and his girlfriend Lyla are also here, and Lyla keeps jumping in occasionally to share what she thinks of it all.

“It’s football, for fuck’s sake,” Wooyoung says. “Why would they even…”

He never finishes his sentence, San interrupting, and you just laugh along with Jongho and Lyla as Wooyoung just glares at San, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

Your phone buzzes on the blanket next to you, and you take a look at it, noticing you’ve received a message from Sydney. She’s supposed to meet you soon, and you’re excited to ask her about how it went with Yunho last night.

You’ve heard that they spent quite some time together, and you’ve been hoping that it cleared the air between the two of them, if only so that you can all start to hang out again without awkwardness lingering in the air.

[2:37 pm] Syd: where the fuck are you?

You snort, quickly typing back your reply.

[2:38 pm] You: by the baseball field

Sydney shoots back the thumbs up emoji, and you put your phone aside as you zero back in on the conversation. Surprisingly, they have stopped talking about football, and you listen as they talk about the upcoming midterms.

“Should we eat?” Wooyoung asks, glancing at the cooler Jongho brought with sandwiches for all of you, and two bottles of rosé wine to share.

“Syd’s almost here,” you inform him.

He sighs loudly, but then everyone is distracted as Hongjoong and Yeosang show up, greeting the group. They brought snacks and spiked lemonade cans with them, so you all settle on one of those as you wait for Sydney, who arrives five minutes later, grumbling about not being able to find you.

To Wooyoung’s luck, you eat then - Sydney even brought some cookies for dessert - your group sharing lively conversation as time goes by. The sun keeps you all warm, hot even, and you enjoy the last of the warm days like that, playing frisbee in the field once you’ve eaten. It’s filled with loud laughs and screams, and you end up going back to the blanket where Yeosang and Hongjoong lingered, sitting with them as Sydney plays with the others.

San glances your way, and you think he’s frowning in the distance. But then Wooyoung screams at him, effectively distracting him, and you sit on the blanket, reaching for the open bag of chips.

“Long night yesterday?” Hongjoong teases.

Your eyes widen, and you shoot him a look. “What?”

“You went home with San, didn’t you?”

Red creeps on your cheeks, and you look towards the mentioned man. He’s throwing the frisbee, and it does a perfect arc, Jongho catching it effortlessly.

“Huh, yeah.”

You figure there’s no need to lie - they all saw you walking out and not coming back yesterday.

Hongjoong smiles wide, glancing at your friends playing frisbee. “Good for you.”

Yeosang snorts, glancing at Hongjoong. “What the fuck was that?”

“San’s hot now,” Hongjoong replies, shrugging his shoulders.

You’ve never really thought about Hongjoong’s sexuality before, and realization dawns as Yeosang nods. “Can’t deny he’s been working out a lot.”

“Don’t you go with him?” Hongjoong asks then.

You tune out the conversation as you see Sydney walking towards you while the others linger on the field, Wooyoung screaming as San chases him with the frisbee in his hand as if he’s about to knock it on his friend’s head. It’s a funny sight, almost comical, and you smile as Wooyoung drops to the ground, protecting his head.

“They are way too competitive for me,” Sydney deadpans as she stops next to you. She glances at Hongjoong and Yeosang, her cheeks turning pink, and then she meets your gaze again. “Do you want to go for a walk around the park?”

You know what the question means - she has something to tell you. Excitement bubbles in your chest, and you’re up on your feet a second later, waving Yeosang and Hongjoong goodbye.

Sydney hooks her arm with yours as you walk, and you notice San glancing your way as you move away, walking down the dirt path on the side of the field where they’re playing. He smiles at you, and you instinctively smile back, your brain not tuning in for Sydney’s first words.

You only notice she’s spoken when she pulls on your arm, saying, “Are you even listening?”

You clear your throat, your cheeks burning as you look away from San, focusing on the squirrel darting across the path a little further down. “Sorry, come again?”

“I…” Sydney trails off, letting out a small, shy chuckle. “I was with Yunho last night.”

You throw her a quick look, only met with her profile as her gaze remains stubbornly locked in on the end of the path. “I know.”

“No,” Sydney says. “Well, I mean, yes, but… but like no.”

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“He walked me home,” Sydney admits.

As if he hasn’t done so countless times before.

“Yeah?” you press.

“I, huh…” You think you hear her gulp. “I invited him in.”

Oh. Oh.

“Oh my God. Did you fuck my brother?”

Sydney slaps your arm. “Why do you have to be so crude?”

Yet her embarrassed tone reveals everything her words haven’t.

“You did. You so did.”

“It wasn’t…” She wets her lips, searching for words. “It wasn’t like that.”

You can tell she has more to say, but she remains silent for a moment. This time you don’t press her, knowing that she needs to collect her thoughts before speaking, and so you finish walking down the field, turning towards the right where a small pond is rippled with tiny waves from the breeze.

“At first, I just wanted us to talk things out,” Sydney explains. “But then… then we kissed, and…”

Her silence is so long you figure she won’t speak. “And you fucked.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she groans. “We made… love, I guess?”

You almost squeal in happiness, supressing the will to jump up and down. “Finally!”

“Finally?”

“It took you so, so fucking long, Syd.”

Sydney frowns. “What do you mean?”

“You guys have been in love since like middle school.”

Your best friend lets go of your arm as she folds hers on her chest. “No?”

“Yes?” You laugh, shaking your head. “I am so, so happy you’ve finally opened your eyes.”

At that Sydney smiles softly, her gaze dropping to the ground. She’s the perfect picture of the maidens that you read about in books, long gone for their knights, and you’d laugh at the sight if she wasn’t so cute.

If you weren’t that happy for her and your brother.

“I’m happy too,” she says gently, and she meets your gaze with a sparkle to her eyes that makes you think true love does exist. “I hope it’s not weird for you.”

“Nah,” you immediately reassure her. “I’ve been waiting for a really long time for you to realize your feelings for each other.” You chuckle, thinking of all the times you’d tried to push them together, hoping that something would come out of it. “I’ve been rooting for you forever.”

Sydney rolls her eyes, though the smile does not leave her lips. “Shut up.”

“Never.” You grin, and then you glance at the ducks on the lake. “I’ll be your officiant at your wedding.”

“Woah, who said anything about a wedding,” Sydney says with a laugh.

“Syd.” Your tone is almost scolding, like a reprimand is about to emerge from your lips. “We both know that you and Yunho will get married the second we’re out of college.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah.”

But the blush on her cheeks tells you that it’s a possibility she’s probably considered herself ever since yesterday. She’s always wanted to get married after all, unlike you.

Silence rises around the two of you, and you’re on your way back to the field when Sydney finally speaks up again.

“What about you?” she asks.

You think you can spy San in the distance when you answer, “What?”

“What happened with San last night?” she asks.

You worry at your bottom lip, suddenly feeling nervous. You don’t quite know why - it’s not like San has given you any reason to be nervous when it comes to the two of you, even if you got jealous yesterday. But then again, you reckon the nervosity might be linked to someone else entirely, to a person that fucked your perspective of love so thoroughly that you thought you never wanted to let anyone in again after him.

Yet San… San’s been digging his way into your life, and you’re not sure if you’ll survive the vulnerability that it brings.

“We went to his,” you admit. Your eyes drop to the ground, and you look at some weed growing in the middle of the dirt path like it hasn’t been trampled countless times already.

It’s almost poetic, the way that it stands tall despite everything that’s happened to it.

“And we also talked,” you add. “He explained what was happening with Kate, and I apologized for getting jealous. He teased me about it…”

“Mmh,” Sydney lets out.

You cock an eyebrow. “What?”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Oh, it totally was good,” you reassure your friend. “It wasn’t mean, it was just… cute.” Sydney is smiling again when you look towards her. “What?”

“I just…” she trails off, slightly pursing your lips. “I’m relieved that you’re finally letting someone in again.”

Your throat dries out even though you had that exact thought just a few moments ago. “What do you mean?”

“After Jungkook,” Sydney starts, and you almost recoil at the sound of his name after so long. “Sorry,” your friend immediately apologizes.

“It’s okay.”

The words are bitter, but it is. It has to be okay, otherwise you’ll be back three years ago when you almost thought you would die.

“After him, I just didn’t think you’d be able to let someone in again. And it was hard to see how much you suffered from that.”

“I didn’t suffer from it,” you say defensively as a frown makes its way to your face.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way. I really am just happy and proud of you.”

You stretch your lips in a tight line, falling silent. Sydney sighs next to you, but the mention of Jungkook just striked too deep for you to keep talking about this. Sydney’s your best friend for a reason though - she senses your unease, hooking her arm with yours again.

“Did you fuck San yesterday?”

The crude words falling from her mouth surprise you, dissipating the tension that was rising. You let out a small laugh, one Sydney seems far too relieved to hear, and then you say, “He ate me out. But he literally creamed his pants.”

“I did not need to know that,” Sydney grumbles.

“You’re the one that asked!” She just rolls her eyes as an answer, and you shake your head at her. “And you’re so worse, you literally fucked my brother.”

“Oh gosh, stop.” She groans, her cheeks flashing red. “I… I shouldn’t even have told you.”

“As if,” you let out, not taking offense with her statement even though it could have been perceived as rude.

Sydney is just secretive, so you can’t blame her. You love her like that, and wouldn’t want her any other way anyway.

“Yeah, nah,” she says, and she joins you for a laugh. “I definitely wanted to tell you, but please, please do not make a big deal out of this. We’re slowly figuring it out.”

You nod, and you offer a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you guys figure it out at your own pace.” You fall silent, but then mischief sparks in your chest, and you add, “Even though it took you literal years to even get here.”

“You’re so annoying,” Sydney complains, and you just burst out laughing.

As you talked, you got closer to the group where they are gathered on the blankets, and you feel San’s heavy gaze on you. Your eyes find his, and for a moment, your earlier anxiety returns. But then he smiles and it fades away, and all you can hope for is that you’re not setting yourself up to get your barely healed heart broken again.

“What’s got you guys laughing?” San asks.

“Nothing,” Sydney quickly replies as she lets go of your arm, and then plops down on the blanket next to Lyla. “You guys opened the wine without us.”

“Y/n doesn’t drink,” Wooyoung points out as he takes a big sip from the red solo cup he’s holding. “So we figured it was fine.”

“What about me?” Sydney asks.

Lyla hands her a cup. “I got you, girl.”

Sydney beams as she takes a sip of the wine while you make your way towards San, sitting next to him.

“Hey,” he greets you as you’re adjusting yourself to be comfortable on the blanket.

You meet his gaze. His eyes are sparkling softly, like maybe the sun that’s sinking towards the horizon now is sinking into his eyes instead. “Hi.”

“You were gone for a while,” he says, just for you to hear, and you don’t miss the pouty tone to his voice.

“Missed me?” you tease.

He narrows his gaze, taking a sip from his solo cup. “Nah.”

You snort, nudging him with your elbow. “Yeah, yeah.”

He winks at you and then hands you the solo cup. “Do you want to taste?”

You think about it. You truly do, even if you haven’t tasted a drop of alcohol in years now. But then again San’s eyes are soft, his smile genuine, and you think why not?

“Just a tiny sip,” you agree, and his gaze widens in surprise.

He hands you the cup, and you take it, electricity shooting up your fingers and along your arm as you graze his fingers. You bring the solo cup to your lips, tilting it just enough for your lip to dip in the rose liquid. The taste fills your mouth, and your nose scrunches up in reflex at the bitterness on your tongue.

“Ew,” you let out as you move the cup away from your lips, handing it back to San.

He laughs at your expanse, taking a sip of his own. “It isn’t that bad.”

You cock an eyebrow. “It isn’t that good either.”

“Your loss.”

You widen your eyes before letting out a small disbelieving laugh. “You’re annoying.”

San leans in to speak in your ear. “That’s not what you were saying when I had my tongue in you yesterday.”

You choke on your saliva, coughing at San’s crude words. You pull away, cheeks burning, only for you to find him grinning at you crookedly. “San!”

“Am I wrong?”

“Gosh, you so are.”

He leans in again, and this time you don’t turn your head to let him speak in your ear. Instead, you hold his gaze despite the close proximity, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“Maybe I should do it again tonight, mmh? To remind you how much you liked it?”

Your gaze drops to his lips. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one that creamed his pants, mmh?”

San winces as he laughs. “Touché. It was just…”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Wooyoung intervenes, and you instinctively pull away from San, cheeks red at being caught. You find yourself unable to reply as San just shrugs next to you, and Wooyoung narrows his gaze at you. “Alright then, keep your secrets.”

You share a look with San, and then you both burst out laughing.

The rest of the afternoon unfolds without a hitch, laughter and smiles and alcohol flowing amongst the friend group. San doesn’t drink too much - neither does Hongjoong, who admits he still feels hungover from the wine and cheese yesterday evening. The others don’t have that limit - it’s like they all are ready to party again, and you watch them from your corner of the blanket with San, who’s decided to use your lap as a pillow.

You only realize he’s fallen asleep while you card your fingers through his hair and Wooyoung looks at the two of you, fake-gagging.

“He did not fall asleep,” Wooyoung deadpans.

You look down, and San’s serene expression makes you smile softly. “Leave him alone, he’s just tired.”

Wooyoung wiggles his eyebrows. “I wonder why.”

You roll your eyes as he bursts out laughing. San shifts on your lap, a frown creasing his brow, and you gently smooth it with the tip of your fingers. His lips spread in a tired smile, and it does something to your heart that you can’t explain, yet want to feel again.

It’s soft - San has a softness to him that can’t be described with words. It’s like the first sun rays in the morning, or the breeze of a summer afternoon. It’s like the brightness of the stars when the moon is away - twinkling gently, forever. Like the rise and fall of an infant’s chest as it rests peacefully. You’d go on and on trying to find comparisons, yet you’re unsure any of them would come close to explaining what San does to you.

The thought sticks with you until later that evening, when you all start parting ways. San wakes up slowly, wiping some drool on his chin as he blinks his eyes at you, gaze unfocused. It takes him a moment to understand where he is, and then he just smiles tiredly, sighing deeply.

“Good morning,” you tease him.

“Mmh.”

Wooyoung sneaks closer to you, pinching San’s side. San yelps, sitting up quickly as he curses Wooyoung, and your gaze widens as you watch them wrestling for a few seconds. But then you look up, meeting Sydney's gaze, and you both burst out laughing.

Boys will be boys, or whatever it is.

*****

“Are you sure?” San asks for the fifth time.

You’re standing outside of your building, and you’ve been trying to convince him to come in with you. It’s been getting chillier outside now that the sun has set, and though you’ve spent the whole day together, you don’t want him to go just yet.

“Yes, I am,” you insist, tugging on his hand, but he doesn’t budge.

“I don’t want to bother your brother.”

You roll your eyes. “Syd will take care of him.”

Sydney who’s standing by the door throws you a look at her name being called. She doesn’t say anything though, not when San smirks. “Oh, will she?”

Gosh.

“Come have dinner with us,” you say, and this time your voice holds finality, not giving him a choice.

You turn around, pulling him behind you as Sydney waits with her cheeks tinted red from San’s words. You wink at her, and she chuckles as she opens the door, holding it for you as you walk in with San in tow. It doesn’t take you long before you’re in front of your own apartment, unlocking the door.

You find Yunho engrossed in some YouTube video he’s been watching on the TV, and there’s a moment of awkwardness as San walks in, standing by the door. Sydney saves you by heading to where Yunho is laying on the couch, and you kick off your shoes pulling San towards your bedroom.

“Hey, why don’t you guys come here?” Yunho asks.

You curse under your breath - not that you don’t want to spend time with your brother and Sydney, but you were kind of hoping you’d get to spend time alone with San.

You meet San’s gaze momentarily, and he just watches you with his mouth slightly open, as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Your heart fills with warmth like it’s been doing all day, and then you tug him towards the living room. You drop your tote bag against the wall in front of the door on the way, and then make your way to the living room.

“Sure,” you say as you catch sight of Yunho sitting now, with Sydney next to him. “Just don’t tear into him.”

“Why would I?” Yunho says. “We’re friends.”

Right. Though you’re not sure you would call them friends just because they have a friend in common.

“What’s up?” Yunho throws at San.

“Not much, just got dragged here by your sister,” San answers, shrugging his shoulders.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Don’t act like you didn’t want to come here.”

He winks at you. “It’s hard to tell you no.”

You just shake your head playfully, lips curving into an amused smile before you look towards Yunho again.

“Wow,” is all Yunho says.

“What?”

“Did I just see you smiling at a man?”

“What the fuck?” you burst out as Sydney pushes him.

“Shut up, Yunho,” she tells him.

“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, dumbass.”

Sydney turns fifteen different shades of red as Yunho’s gaze brightens, though blush tints his cheeks too. You sit on the couch next to Sydney, and San moves next to you, slowly sitting down. There’s another awkward silence that lingers until Yunho asks how the afternoon was, and you tell him about the park.

You don’t mention the conversation you had with Sydney, though. You keep that to yourself, instead telling him about the frisbee, and the wine, and the weather that hinted at summer. It breaks the ice, and soon conversation starts flowing between the four of you, almost as if San was always part of your little group.

You end up ordering Korean fried chicken for dinner, and you all eat sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table as you watch a movie Sydney recommended. It’s a good movie, and from the corner of your eyes, you notice how Sydney is cuddling into Yunho’s side. You can’t help your smile at the sight, relieved that they have finally made it to each other.

You’ve been dreaming of it for so long after all.

“They’re adorable,” San whispers in your ear.

You nod, eyes sparkling as you meet his gaze. “I’m really happy for them.”

San’s lips spread in a soft smile as he looks between your eyes, his gaze then dropping to your mouth. Your throat feels suddenly dry, the space between the two of you filling with electricity, and you become aware that he’s just a hair's breadth away, close enough that you could brush your lips against his if only you moved an inch forward.

Though the gravity of him is strong, you resist, instead sitting back in your spot with your back against the couch. He chuckles, and then focuses on the movie again. He spreads his legs, his thigh pressing against yours. You’d curse him for it if your brother and best friend weren’t right next to you.

But two can play that game, can’t they?

So you press your thigh into his, slightly shifting so that you can angle your body towards him. You catch him smirking from the corner of your eyes as if that was what he wanted you to do, and so you decide to go further, your hand falling to his leg. It lands right next to the spot where you’re touching, and you feel San slightly tensing.

Especially as you start tracing idle shapes on his skin through the fabric of his pants. He spreads his legs even more, chasing the sensation. It emboldens you, so you lay your head on his shoulder. It brings you so close to him that you feel it when he takes his next breath, and you press your lips together to refrain from smiling smugly.

But you keep your hand on his thigh, idle circles getting closer to his dick with every slow pass. You try to make it as subtle as you can, and San gulps.

Right before you’re about to actually touch his dick, San leans in to speak into your hair, his voice so low you can barely hear him. “You should stop this before your brother notices.”

There’s something husky about the way he speaks, and desire floods your system. But all you do is wet your lips, your idle circles inching away from him this time. He doesn’t seem like he likes it - he moves, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest.

You blush. You blush even though the living room is dark except for the light coming from the TV, which is thankfully on a darker scene at the moment. But you blush as you’re keenly aware that Sydney shoots you a glance.

You’re not big on PDA. Have never been, yet you don’t shrug San off. Don’t try to move away. Not when his body is so warm and he moulds you into his side like you belong there. And for a fleeting moment, you allow yourself to think that you do.

That maybe you’re allowed to love again after your ex. It’s been years after all - it’s not like you believed you had to stay single for the rest of your life. You just never had a romantic interest for someone after Jungkook, especially not with how things ended. But San…

It’s just been so easy with him, even though it’s only been two weeks. Two weeks, yet you feel like a small eternity has passed. Maybe because of how natural it feels to be by his side.

The movie ends a little while later, with Sydney and Yunho cuddling on their side of the couch while you and San cuddle on yours. You move away from San first, stretching as Yunho turns off the movie at the beginning of the credits. Sydney imitates you a second later, though her stretch is accompanied by a yawn.

“I think I should go home for the night,” she says.

“Are you not sleeping over?” Yunho asks, and there’s a pout in his voice.

What a lovesick idiot.

“I don’t have my stuff,” she says, but you don’t miss the way she throws you and San a not-so subtle look.

Yunho misses it though. He frowns, looking towards you as if you’ll help. “You have a tooth brush here and you can use Y/n’s stuff for a shower.”

“Right,” Sydney lets out, and she glances at you with apology in her gaze.

You shrug your shoulders to reassure her, and then you glance at San. “Come.”

He cocks an eyebrow in question as you get up, hand extended for him to take. He glances at your hand, his fingers closing around yours just a heartbeat later.

“Where are you bringing me, woman?”

His tone is teasing, and you just chuckle. “To my room… boy.”

“Hey, I’m not a boy!”

You laugh as he gets up. “Are you not? I didn’t think you were a girl.”

He rolls his eyes. “Gosh, you’re…” He trails off as if only then realizing that Yunho and Sydney are watching the two of you curiously. “A very nice lady,” he concludes, and you all burst out laughing.

“Good night, losers,” you tell Sydney and Yunho, and then you’re pulling San to your bedroom, with no interruption this time.

“Good night?” San repeats behind you. “We’re going to bed?”

“Unless you want to go home?” you say, though you don’t slow down, still tugging him towards your room, though you do stop on the way to grab your tote bag, still filled with everything you brought to San’s place yesterday night.

“I’m a little tired,” he says.

“Well then.” You open the door of your bedroom. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

He laughs, walking in before you. You follow him, turning on the lights - multiple strings of fairy lights with fake leaves intertwined hanging from the wall that your bed is pushed against. They work with an app on your phone, so you just turn them on that way, appreciating the soft glow that reigns on your room a second later.

You close the door as San scans your room. “This is small.”

“That’s all you have to say?” you let out, faking offense.

He chuckles. “I love it. Love the lights, and the plushie.”

Your eyes trail to your bed, on top of which rests the Winnie the Pooh plushie you got years ago when you went to Disney with your family.

“It’s adorable, isn’t it?”

San sits on your bed, grabbing the plushie. “Definitely.” He cuddles it to his chest, resting his chin on top of it.

You smile, and dimples appear in his cheeks as you take a step closer to him. The sight of him in your bed, his eyes twinkling with barely concealed feelings you too have been feeling, is enough to make you pull on Winnie until he lets it go. You throw the plushie, making yourself at home between his legs as you cup his cheeks.

San gulps, tilting his head back to look you in the eyes as you lean in. You stop just an inch away from his mouth, looking between his two eyes repeatedly as if they host the answer to the Universe.

And maybe they do. Maybe they hold the answers of the universe you live in.

“I…” you whisper, and his gaze drops to your mouth.

“You?” he presses, voice breathy.

You don’t know. You don’t know what you wanted to say. So you continue with the only thing that makes sense, breathing out, “San.”

He says your name with the same reverence, and then you’re closing the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips on his. He sighs softly, moving to hold your waist as you gently brush his cheek with a thumb, your other hand shifting to the back of his head.

The kiss reveals an inner light in you that you thought had died with Jungkook. It reveals a land of endless possibilities, of vulnerability you don’t know if you’re ready to let in. Yet it’s knocking at your door, and when San swipes your bottom lip with his tongue, you know it’s too late to stop.

So you kiss him harder, deeper, meeting his tongue with yours until his grip tightens on you. Until your lungs run out of oxygen, and then you straddle his lap, never disconnecting your mouth from his. Because you don’t want to - tonight, Choi San is the oxygen in your lungs.

San caresses your back, one hand going up to hold the back of your neck as the other goes down, gripping at the meat of your ass. You let out a breathy sound that’s barely noticeable through the intensity of the moment, one you know will be repeated countless times tonight.

You don’t think you’ll be able to stop tonight. You want him - all of him, completely.

You want to come undone, together with him.

You gently push him down until he’s lying on his back, your lips still dancing together, tongues mingling like you’re trying to drink his very essence. But then you sit back on him, breathing rapidly as your lungs seek for much needed oxygen. Just like him, whose chest is going up and down quickly as he watches you taking your shirt off, tossing it aside.

Your mouths collide with more intent then, passion taking over the two of you as San’s fingers aim for the clasp of your bra in your back. He fumbles with it for a few heartbeats until it comes undone, and then he gently slips your bra down your arms. You disconnect for a moment so that he can throw the piece of clothing to the floor, and then your lips are on his again.

It’s languid. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted - there’s danger in the speed at which you’re catching feelings, but it’s too late.

It’s too late, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

San’s large hands caress your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as you tease his bottom lip with your teeth. He lets out a small groan, and then his hands move forward, finding your breasts. He massages them, pushing them together, and then his deft fingers find your nipples, gently squeezing them.

You moan. A light sound, one meant just for his ears, and then you’re sitting back on him again, just so that you can circle your hips with your core against his growing erection. His eyebrows bunch together, his lips parted on a silent sound you so wish you had heard, but one you know should remain silent.

Indeed, you can hear Sydney and Yunho talking in the living room, and the last thing you’d want would be for them to hear you having sex with San.

San says your name, a whisper that wraps around your heart like the warm embrace of a lover - something you’re realizing San might become to you - and then he grinds his hips in yours, his length rubbing on your core through the clothes.

It’s sinful, passionate, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I want you,” you say, echoing the words you said last night. “I really want you, San.”

He wets his lips, grinding on you again. “Do you have condoms?”

You freeze. You don’t - you’ve finished the box you owned a couple of months ago with a one night stand you met at a bar at the beginning of the summer. And you’ve never thought to buy more because you weren’t actively seeking to have sex after that.

“I…” you let out, and then you chuckle awkwardly. “I don’t. Don’t you have one?”

San winces, and then his mouth falls open as you circle your hips on him again. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath. “Fuck, Y/n.”

It’s the way he says your name. It takes all of its meaning in his mouth, and you lean forward to kiss him again. He meets every swipe of your tongue with a languid swipe of his, and your core warms up to an uncomfortable level. You’re growing wet, soaking through your panties, and you know you won’t be able to stop tonight.

“I don’t,” San says a moment later - you can’t tell if it’s been a few seconds or an hour.

Kissing him does that to your brain.

“Huh?”

San pecks your mouth once more, and you look down at his glistening, swollen lips as he repeats. “I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

He breaks into a smile, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I don’t have a condom.”

You freeze for the second time in not too long, your heart skipping a beat in your chest.

Shit.

“Oh.”

“I…” he starts, though he seems at a loss for words for a few heartbeats. “I didn’t expect us to have sex tonight.” He wets his lips, attracting your gaze to his mouth. “I actually genuinely didn’t think I’d come here at all.” At the slight frown that appears on your features, San quickly adds, “I’m happy I did, though.”

You nod once, smiling softly. “I’m happy you did, too.”

You cup his cheek from where you’re sitting on his dick, and it twitches in his pants as your thumb teases his bottom lip. You feel powerful, like you’re sitting on a throne and not on his lap - it’s all thanks to him, and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world.

“I gotta admit I really fucking want you too,” he says, his voice resembling a growl.

You’re barely surprised when he sits up to kiss your lips again. Indeed, you’re immediately kissing him back, tasting all of him until he’s the only thing in your mind.

Until you forget all about the world - all that’s left is Choi San, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You let your hands explore his body, appreciating his hard muscles through the shirt he’s wearing. It’s a little on the thicker side - he’d put it on back at the park when it started getting chillier - yet you can still feel his hard-earned body. It emboldens you, turns you on even more, and you’re pulling on the hem of his shirt a second later, letting him know you want him to take it off.

He understands the cue, and he’s pulling away from the kiss just long enough to take his shirt off, revealing the t-shirt underneath. He’s about to kiss you again when you stop him with a hand on his chest.

You can feel his quick heartbeats on your palm, and he just looks at you with questions in his eyes.

“Take it off, too,” you say, motioning to his t-shirt.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side. “I guess it’s just fair, mmh?”

You don’t reply anything, too distracted by the body that’s revealed when he finally takes the t-shirt off. And though you saw his body yesterday, there’s just something about the strong planes of his chest that makes you roll your hips into his, and San’s hands shoot to your waist to guide your motions.

It’s hot, even if your panties are sticking to your pussy uncomfortably from how soaked they are.

“You know what’s wild?” he says with a low, husky voice that sends shivers down your spine.

“What?” you breathe out.

“I deadass think you could make me come like this,” he admits with not even a single ounce of shame. “You turn me on so fucking much.”

You moan as he grinds up into you again. Even with all the clothes between you and him, you can still feel how hard he is, and your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Fuck, San.”

“I know,” he lets out, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. “I know, baby.”

“I need to feel you,” you purr. “I…”

You don’t finish your sentence, instead getting up. San watches you, leaning back on his hands, as you finish undressing, breathing a sigh of relief when your panties finally stop sticking to your pussy. You drop them to the floor, fully aware that San’s eyeing you up and down. It makes you feel hot, more attractive than you’ve ever felt - it helps that his bulge is so evident, protruding from his pants so much you think he might rip through them.

But it looks uncomfortable, and you want to relieve him. Want to feel him - will feel him. So you lean closer, fingers finding the button of his pants, and then you’re doing quick work of taking the rest of his clothes off, too. His boxers follow his pants right away, his dick slapping on his abdomen from how hard he already is.

You haven’t seen him fully naked before. He’s always kept either his shirt or pants on, and you understand why.

You think you would have gone insane if you’d seen him fully naked before. It’s just so sinful - he’s a Greek god sent down to Earth to whisk you away to Olympus. But in all honesty, you think you go a little insane anyway as you look at him now, watching the bead of precum that sits on his slit.

“Fuck.”

The word falls from your lips right in time with San’s dick twitching as you reach for it, running a finger along his length. San just surveys you as you’re doing so, so out of breath he looks like he’s just finished a marathon.

Your finger stops at his slit, smearing the precum on his tip. San throws his head back, eyes shutting in time with his mouth falling open as you wrap your hand around him next, giving him a stroke up and down.

You’re dripping. Dripping between your legs, your juices rolling down the inside of your thighs. You doubt you’ve ever been so wet before, and you’d be embarrassed of it if San didn’t look so helpless from just your hand on him.

And maybe you’re wild for it, maybe you’re stupid, but you push him back down on the bed, straddling his lap again. The lack of fabric between the two of you when your pussy rubs on his dick from the motion makes the both of you moan, and you still with his tip nudging your clit, your mind swimming in ecstasy already.

“Holy shit,” San lets out. “Fuck, I…”

And then he’s moving, grinding against you, coating his length in your juices. You don’t move, almost hoping he’ll slip inside of you as he goes back and forth, the friction on your clit enough to make your vision blurry.

But you need more. Want more, need the friction to send you flying over the edge. So you lean forward, finding leverage on his shoulders as you start moving too, and San lets you take the lead, grunting under you as you rub your clit on his hard length.

He feels heavenly. He feels like you’re about to reach nirvana, and you genuinely think you might. It’s just too good, and his hands on your hips so gentle despite the actions you’re partaking in that you know you’ll be able to come in no time.

He murmurs your name, eyes still closed as he takes in the sensation of you on him, and you bend down until you can kiss him again. He takes over then, slowly pushing his dick harder into you as he rubs your clit. Your walls clench around nothing, and you’re so wet you know he might accidentally slip right in.

You don’t care - you want him to. You want to know what it would feel like to be impaled by his large dick, to feel him stretching your walls.

So do you slightly shift when he moves back? You do. Just enough for his tip to starts slipping inside of you, and San immediately pulls his hips back, even as you try to chase him. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you in place, and then he delivers a light slap to your ass.

“Be nice, mmh?” he lets out.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck as he starts rubbing his dick on your clit once more. You moan in his ear, and then go straight to the skin of his neck, sucking on it just hard enough to leave a faint purple mark behind.

But then you’re sitting back, and this time with a goal. You need completion, need to come undone, so you add your motions to San’s, being careful not to push his dick inside of you again. It’s so good your eyes roll to the back of your head, and it doesn’t take long before you start feeling a knot forming in your lower stomach.

Your hand is on his chest as you grind on him, your free one moving to your breast so that you can pinch your nipple. San gets the message, and then he’s pushing your hand away from your breast, replacing it with his.

The second he squeezes your nipple between his thumb and index you’re coming undone, your climax hitting almost out of nowhere.

It’s too good, far too good, and you go limp, falling into his chest as he keeps going, his rhythm accelerating for a few heartbeats until a warm liquid squirts all over your lower stomach, though it mostly falls on his. Even then San keeps moving, but he slows down, his motions sloppy until he entirely stops.

Your room is silent then except for your mingling breaths, and San holds you as you slowly come down from the high, your head resting on his chest. It takes a while for his heartbeat to slow down, and you only raise your head to meet his gaze once his heart does go back to a normal rhythm.

He’s already looking at you, eyes shining brightly like a star was born in their depths. You can’t help yourself - you kiss him, but this time it’s softer than a feather. It’s the perfect conclusion to the action that just unfolded, and you sigh in contentment, eyes still shut as you pull away from the kiss.

Your eyelids flutter open to see San with his eyes still closed. He sighs too, a lazy smile growing on his lips, and you chuckle at the sight.

“I can’t believe we just basically fucked without fucking,” you comment.

He snorts, and then you both burst out laughing.

“What are you doing to me, woman?” San asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. “You’re so…” His eyes flutter open. “You’re so fucking perfect, you know that, right?”

Pink dusts your cheeks. “Stop, I’m not.”

“To me, you are,” he insists as he shuts his eyes again with the same satisfied smile on his lips. “I’ve never come like this before. You really turn me on so much, you have no clue.”

“Then why don’t you carry a condom around, mmh?”

He chuckles. “You still came, didn’t you?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up just enough so that you can look at the mess between the two of you. “Like you didn’t? You made a mess.”

He cracks an eye open to glare at you playfully. “It’s your fault. You’re the one that started grinding on me.”

“No regrets,” you tease, and you both laugh again.

When the laughter recedes, you reach for the box of tissue on your bedside table, putting it on the bed next to you. And then you grab some tissues, sitting back on San so that you can clean your lower stomach. He makes to reach for some tissues too, but you swat his hand away. He laughs softly, and then looks at you with those sparkling eyes of his as you clean him up too.

“You’re sleeping over, right?” you ask.

San smiles, tilting his head to the side. “I’m getting the feeling that you wouldn’t let me leave even if I wanted to.”

“You want to leave?” you say with a pout.

He props himself up on his elbows, and the muscles on his chest shift from the switch in position. It’s hot, almost enough to get you going again, so you quickly look away, meeting his gaze instead.

“Not at all,” he answers truthfully. “I just want to sleep with you.”

You cock an eyebrow, mischief in your gaze. “To sleep with me, mmh?”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, sleep. To sleep with you in my arms like we did yesterday.”

Butterflies take flight in your stomach, and you barely can hold your smile. San just looks at it for a few seconds, and then he sits up to kiss you softly as he loses one hand in your hair.

“We should probably take a shower first, though,” he says in the space between the two of you as he leans his forehead against yours.

You agree. You definitely should, yet you don’t want to leave the comfort of the safe haven that your room is. But you have to, so you force yourself to pull away from his forehead, turning your head to the side so that you can focus on the sounds in the apartment.

It’s dead silent, and though you wait a couple of seconds, Yunho and Sydney don’t make themselves heard at all.

“Do you think they went to bed?” you ask.

San ponders for a few seconds as he, too, listens to the apartment. “Seems like it.”

You nod once, and then you’re getting up. You grab San’s t-shirt, putting it on quickly before he can steal it from your hands. He just smiles at the sight as you hand him his pants.

You put a pair of PJ shorts on while he gets dressed, and then you guide him to the bathroom so that you can take a shower together.

Later, when you’re finally tucked in bed with your head on his shoulder, his arm holding you close to him, you trace idle shapes on his stomach. San kisses the top of your head, bringing a smile to your lips, and you peck his jaw.

He kisses you a second later, and though it’s short, his heart is beating quicker in his chest when you lean your head against him once more after. It fills you with warmth, and you nuzzle your face in his neck, breathing in the distinct scent of him.

You fall asleep entwined with him, dreams of a park and a dimpled smile occupying your night.

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