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shaiyasstuff · 4 months ago

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side effects may include: marriage, blushing, and one shirtless husband. | zayne

synopsis : You never planned on getting married straight out of college—especially not to a broody, absurdly attractive cardiac surgeon with the emotional range of a paperweight. But one wine-infused chocolate, a half-unbuttoned shirt, and an accidental kiss later, you’re rethinking everything.

content : arranged marriage!au, pure fluff, comedy, writer on crack

The letter in your hand crumples with the weight of betrayal as you wave it in front of your mother’s face like a white flag soaked in passive-aggression. “What is this?”

She barely glances up from her tea. “Your marriage agreement,” she says, taking a sip as if she hadn’t just casually handed your freedom over like a lunchbox.

“Why didn’t I know about this?!” you exclaim, arms flailing like you’re directing traffic in a thunderstorm.

“Because you wouldn’t have agreed,” she replies smoothly, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

Which, apparently, to her, it is.

“Mom, I literally just graduated,” you groan, dragging your hands down your face.

She raises a perfectly plucked brow. “I married your father before I even finished.”

You let out another groan, louder this time, before collapsing face-first onto the designer couch like a Victorian heroine with a Wi-Fi addiction.

It probably doesn’t help that your family owns one of the biggest tech companies in the country.

Wealthy, yes.

Emotionally prepared for an arranged marriage? Absolutely not.

“I don’t even know the guy!” you practically shout, sounding one emotional notch away from launching yourself into a soap opera.

“I do,” your mother says, flipping open her book like this conversation is just background noise. “He’s a very charming young man.”

You grab the nearest pillow and dramatically smother yourself with it. “I’m not doing it,” you declare, voice muffled and full of angst.

“It’s already been decided.”

You fling the pillow aside like it personally betrayed you. “No!”

Somewhere in the distance, a rich person’s violinist probably sighed in sympathy.

“You can’t make me do this!” you cry, pointing an accusatory finger at her like you’re about to cast a spell of teenage rebellion.

“You will move into the new house in a week. Pack your things,” she replies, turning the page of her book without even looking at you, as if she’s ordering takeout instead of destroying your life.

You gape at her. “I’m not going to prison, Mom. I’m just trying to live my mediocre post-grad life in peace!”

She sips her tea. “And now you’ll do it as a married woman. Congratulations.”

You consider packing alright—packing your bags and running to a country where arranged marriages are considered ancient history.

Except, here you were—one week, three tantrums, and a very dramatic attempt to fake your own death later—standing in front of your husband.

Tall. Towering. Probably sculpted by ancient gods who had nothing better to do.

In your new marital home.

You blink up at him, still hoping this was an elaborate prank and Ashton Kutcher was going to leap out from behind a curtain with a camera crew.

No such luck.

Your new husband just stood there, looking like he stepped out of a magazine and into your worst-case scenario.

“I’m Zayne,” he says calmly, like you’re meeting at a networking event and not at the start of your forced domestic partnership.

You stare. Tall, brooding, buttoned-up like he’s allergic to joy.

Of course his name is Zayne—the kind of name that comes with a tragic backstory and an impressive skincare routine.

A shudder runs through you.

You’re married to that?

Somewhere in the background, the universe probably gave you a thumbs-up and whispered, “Good luck, sweetheart.”

You gulp, trying to summon the dignity your pajama-clad soul clearly lacks. “I’m Y/N.”

He nods. Nods. No handshake, no smile, no “Nice to meet you, fellow victim of our parents’ power trip.”

And then—he just turns and walks away.

Walks. Away.

You’re left standing there, blinking like a Wi-Fi signal trying to reconnect.

Married. To a man who treats introductions like optional software updates.

—•

“This is what Mom called charming?” you grumble, side-eyeing the empty hallway like it personally offended you.

You replay the interaction in your head—“I’m Zayne”—and resist the urge to punch a pillow just to feel something.

Naturally, you do what any responsible adult in a forced marriage would do.

You begin a full-scale reconnaissance mission.

Operation? Figure Out Who the Heck I Married.

You start with the basics—tracking his schedule, observing his comings and goings like an underpaid spy in a bad rom-com.

The man has the consistency of a German train schedule, the emotional availability of a stone wall, and the mystery level of a locked diary in a teenager’s room.

You have no idea what he does for work. He leaves in crisp suits and comes home even more pressed. He talks to no one. He reads thick books with no covers. You’ve yet to catch him watching a single cat video.

So, naturally, you conclude he must be a rich heir. Or a prince. Or some exiled monarch trying to lay low until his kingdom is restored.

It helps that he’s unfairly attractive—black hair that falls just right, piercing eyes that could probably see through walls, and a jawline that could cut glass.

Yep. Definitely a prince.

A very emotionally constipated, tragically handsome prince.

“I know you’re there,” he says, voice smooth and unbothered—of course he does, because apparently your espionage skills rank somewhere between amateur squirrel and nosy neighbor.

He doesn’t even look up from his book at first. Just turns a page calmly, as if catching his new wife spying on him is an everyday occurrence.

Then, slowly, he tilts his head and meets your eyes.

Oh no.

That look is lethal—cool, unreadable, and annoyingly attractive. He sets the book down with a soft thud and takes off his glasses like he’s about to lecture you, interrogate you, or casually ruin your life with a single sentence.

“Come in,” he says, and somehow it sounds less like an invitation and more like a challenge.

You briefly consider fleeing the country.

But your legs move anyway.

You let out an awkward laugh, the kind that sounds more like a hiccup caught mid-lie. “I was just… trying to see what you do.”

Zayne arches a brow, amused. “And lurking behind walls was the most effective method?”

You shrug, stepping inside, the door clicking softly shut behind you. “I considered asking. But you don’t exactly give off ‘share your feelings over coffee’ vibes.”

He leans back slightly in his chair, arms folding as he studies you—like you’re a puzzle he didn’t ask for but now can’t resist solving. “And what have you learned from your mission?”

“That you read a lot of intimidating books and might secretly be a prince,” you mutter, eyeing the hardcover he’d set down. “Or an assassin with excellent taste in eyewear.”

That earns you the ghost of a smile. Barely there—but it softens something in his expression.

“You’re not entirely wrong,” he says, and somehow, that doesn’t help.

You step closer, cautiously. “So… what do you do?”

Zayne tilts his head slightly. “Why? Interested now?”

“Trying to decide if I should be impressed… or mildly concerned for my safety.”

He chuckles under his breath—quiet and low, like he’s not used to laughing, but might want to try. “Maybe both.”

And for a moment, just a flicker, the air between you shifts. Less awkward, more curious. Like two strangers on the edge of something not quite comfortable, but not cold either.

“Well,” you say, fiddling with a stray thread on your sleeve, “I figured if I’m going to be married to a mystery man, I should at least get to know the mystery.”

Zayne watches you for a beat longer, then gestures to the seat across from him.

“Then stay,” he says. “Ask your questions properly this time.”

And you do.

You sit down across from him, suddenly hyper-aware of how your knees almost brush beneath the table.

His gaze is steady—too steady—and you gulp like you’ve just asked for his hand in courtship instead of mild information.

“So… what do you do?” you ask, trying to sound casual. It comes out more like a nervous frog asking a favor.

Zayne doesn’t answer right away. He leans back slightly, arms still folded, one brow lifting like he’s debating how much to reveal—or maybe just how much fun he’ll have watching you squirm.

“I’m a cardiac surgeon,” he finally says, voice low and even.

You blink.

“I—what?”

“I operate on hearts,” he says, like he’s talking about changing a lightbulb.

You stare at him. This whole time you thought he was brooding over world domination or writing dark poetry about rain. Heart surgeon was not on your bingo card.

“Wait, seriously? Like… actual hearts? With… scalpels?”

He tilts his head, clearly amused. “Is there another kind?”

Your jaw drops slightly. “Wow. I was prepared for ‘billionaire with a tragic past,�� not Grey’s Anatomy.”

“I assure you, there’s still a tragic past,” he deadpans, and for a second you’re not sure if he’s joking.

He doesn’t elaborate—but something in his eyes flickers. Quiet. Guarded.

You lean back, blinking slowly. “Okay… that’s kind of hot.”

That gets him. His lips twitch, just a little. “Are you flirting with your husband?”

You pretend to examine the ceiling. “I’m just saying, it makes the whole mysterious-silent-guy thing slightly more tolerable.”

He lets out a soft laugh—barely audible, but it’s real.

And suddenly, sitting across from him doesn’t feel so heavy.

He stands up suddenly, the chair sliding back with a soft scrape against the floor. You jolt slightly, halfway through processing his laugh, and blink up at him.

His expression has shifted—still calm, but there’s something else now. A hint of gravity in the way he looks at you.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, catching you off guard. “For the suddenness of all this.”

You sit up straighter, unsure what to say. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged the whole arranged-marriage-against-your-will situation out loud.

Before you can respond, he steps closer, extending a hand—not forceful, just open. “Let me show you why.”

Your heart skips. “Why what?”

“Why our parents thought this could work,” he says, and for the first time, there’s no teasing in his tone—just sincerity. Gentle, but certain.

You stare at his hand. His fingers are long, precise. A surgeon’s hands. Hands that fix hearts.

And here he was, offering them to you.

So, slowly, hesitantly, you place your hand in his.

And just like that, something shifts again. Less awkward. A little warmer. A little more real.

He guides you out to his car—a sleek, polished thing that looks like it probably knows more about taxes than you do. He opens the passenger door for you, which is either chivalrous or unsettling, you’re not sure yet.

You slide in, still trying to wrap your head around this whole situation, when he leans in unexpectedly close—and reaches across you.

Your breath catches.

Then—click—he fastens your seatbelt.

You blink at him, flustered. Not because it was romantic. It wasn’t. It was clinical. Efficient. Like buckling you in was a task on his daily checklist.

Still, your brain short-circuits a little.

“Thanks,” you mumble, confused by how something so unromantic could still make your stomach flutter.

He simply shuts the door and rounds the front of the car, settling into the driver’s seat like he’s done it a hundred times.

You glance over. “So… where are we going?”

He shifts the gear with practiced ease, eyes on the road. “To see my parents.”

You freeze. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“As in—meeting the in-laws now?”

Zayne glances at you, completely calm. “You’re my wife. It’s only natural.”

You groan quietly into your palms. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”

At your dramatic groan, Zayne gives the faintest hint of a smile—so subtle you almost miss it. Just the smallest twitch at the corner of his lips, like your misery is a quiet source of amusement to him.

You narrow your eyes. “Was that a smile?”

“I don’t recall,” he says, cool as ever.

You huff and turn your gaze out the window, resigned to what you assume will be an awkward, overly formal afternoon in a mansion filled with judgmental in-laws and porcelain teacups.

But twenty minutes later, when the car slows to a stop, your sarcasm dies in your throat.

Because this isn’t a mansion.

It’s a cemetery.

Your eyes flick to him, your voice suddenly small. “Zayne…?”

He cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, his expression unreadable again.

“You said you wanted to know why,” he says, gently. “So I’m showing you.”

And just like that, your earlier words—your groaning, your dramatics, your little internal jokes—feel like they belong to someone else entirely.

Zayne steps out of the car without another word, and you follow, suddenly quiet, your footsteps softer on the gravel. The wind tugs at your sleeves as he leads you up a small hill, the world around you hushed, respectful.

The trees part at the crest, revealing an open clearing.

Two gravestones stand side by side, worn but well-kept, the grass around them neatly trimmed. Fresh flowers rest at their bases—white lilies, carefully arranged.

Your breath catches in your throat.

Zayne slows as he approaches, his hands in his coat pockets. He doesn’t say anything right away, just looks at them for a long moment. When he does speak, his voice is low, quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

“These are my parents.”

Your chest tightens.

You glance at him—his posture still straight, still composed, but there’s something softer now. Something heavy that doesn’t show in his face, but in the silence he carries around it.

“They passed away when I was in my first year of med school,” he says, eyes fixed on the stones. “I visit them every week. I always bring lilies—my mother liked them.”

You stand there beside him, uncertain at first, then quietly fold your arms, the weight of the moment settling on your shoulders.

“I didn’t know,” you murmur.

“I know,” he says, and for once, there’s no edge in his voice. Just truth.

And suddenly, you understand what he meant earlier. Why he said he wanted to show you. Why he apologized.

Because this marriage wasn’t just sudden—it was the first thing in a long time he hadn’t had to face alone.

“My parents made an agreement with yours,” Zayne says, his voice steady as he turns to face you.

There’s no accusation in his tone, no bitterness. Just quiet honesty.

“So in a way,” he continues, meeting your eyes, “we’re both stuck in this predicament. Not just you.”

The word predicament almost makes you laugh—because that’s exactly what it is. A polite, miserable mess you’ve both been handed like a family heirloom no one wanted.

But the way he says it… it’s not cold. It’s not detached.

It’s shared.

For the first time, you see the man behind the silence. Not just the polished stranger with perfect posture and unreadable expressions—but someone who lost his family, who carried grief with clinical grace, who walked into this marriage just as unprepared as you.

You lower your gaze, toeing the earth gently beneath your shoe. “Guess that makes us reluctant allies.”

“Something like that,” he murmurs.

Then, after a pause, he adds, “But I don’t intend to stay strangers with you forever. Not if we’re in this together.”

You feel something small and strange crack open in your chest.

Hope. Maybe. Or just the beginning of something real.

After the quiet moments of prayer—hands clasped, heads bowed, the wind weaving through the stillness—you and Zayne make your way back down the hill in silence. It’s not uncomfortable this time. Just… thoughtful. Like something unspoken has shifted between you.

The ride home is calm, the late afternoon sun casting soft light through the windshield. You glance over at him, watching the way his fingers rest lightly on the steering wheel, the way his profile is bathed in gold.

You hesitate, then ask, voice gentle, “How do you feel about this marriage?”

He doesn’t answer right away. The road stretches ahead, lined with trees and fading light, and you think maybe he won’t answer at all.

But then, a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips—small, but unmistakable.

“I don’t mind it,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road. “Now that I’ve met you.”

You blink.

It’s not grand or poetic. It’s not a love confession or sweeping gesture. But something about the way he says it—so simple, so sure—makes your heart trip a little in your chest.

You turn back to the window, trying to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks.

And for the first time, the silence between you feels like something full, not empty.

—•

When you reach home, Zayne unlocks the door with quiet efficiency and steps inside like he’s been doing it for years—even though technically, it’s your first week as reluctant roommates.

He shrugs off his coat and heads straight for the kitchen.

You trail behind him, curious. “What are you doing?”

“Making tea,” he says, already reaching for the kettle.

You arch a brow. “Seriously… did you go to husband-training-school or something?”

He glances at you over his shoulder, eyes just a touch amused. “Is that a thing?”

“It should be,” you say, hopping up onto a stool at the kitchen counter. “You open doors, buckle seatbelts, visit your parents’ graves with fresh flowers, and now you make tea? Either you’re weirdly good at this or you’ve been raised by a very intense etiquette instructor.”

Zayne smirks—an actual smirk this time, not the half-ghost of one. “My mother believed in manners. My father believed in precision.”

You nod sagely. “Ah, so you were raised by royalty.”

He sets two mugs on the counter, then adds, “And I believe in not poisoning my wife with bad tea on day seven of our arranged marriage.”

You lift your hands. “Low bar, but I appreciate it.”

He chuckles quietly as he pours the water, and you watch him, a strange sort of warmth settling in your chest.

Turns out, “reluctant husband” looks a lot like “softly competent tea-making mystery man” when no one’s looking.

You watch him as he carefully stirs the tea, trying to look casual, though there’s an edge to your curiosity. “So, have you got a girlfriend? Before all this…?”

The question hangs in the air, a little awkward, but you can’t help yourself. You’re still trying to figure out who he is outside of this whole marriage thing. You need to know what kind of life he led before it all changed.

Zayne doesn’t answer immediately, his movements slowing for just a moment as if he’s considering the question carefully. His eyes flick to you, then back to the steaming mugs.

“No,” he says after a beat, the word simple but loaded. “I didn’t. Too busy, I suppose.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Too busy for dating? I find that hard to believe.”

He lets out a quiet breath, placing the spoon down with the kind of deliberation that makes you think there’s more behind it. “It’s not that I didn’t have time. I was just… focused on other things.”

“Like saving lives?” you tease, leaning on the counter.

He glances at you, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest moment before he gives a small nod. “Exactly. I never made time for anything else.”

You hum thoughtfully, but there’s something in his voice that makes you stop. Focused on other things. You wonder if that was his way of avoiding other things. Or maybe he just never let anyone close enough.

You catch his gaze again, and this time, there’s a flicker—an unspoken something in the way he holds it. You can’t quite place it, but it’s enough to make your stomach tighten, just slightly.

“Well, now you’ve got me,” you say, trying to keep the tone light. “I guess that makes two of us.”

Zayne’s lips curl into the faintest smile. “Indeed.”

That night, you change into something nice—half-expecting a stiff, high-end restaurant with white tablecloths, six forks, and judgmental lighting.

But when Zayne pulls the car up to a quiet little corner bistro tucked between a flower shop and a bookstore, you blink in surprise.

It’s not fancy. No valet, no sparkling chandeliers, no menus written in French.

It’s… cozy.

Warm lights glow from inside, casting golden puddles on the sidewalk. Through the windows, you spot mismatched chairs, little potted plants on the tables, and the soft flicker of candlelight.

Someone’s playing gentle jazz on a guitar in the corner, and the air smells like garlic and fresh bread.

“This isn’t what I expected,” you murmur as he opens the car door for you.

He raises a brow. “Disappointed?”

You shake your head slowly. “No. Actually… I like it.”

He doesn’t smile, not really—but there’s a flicker in his eyes, like that’s exactly the answer he was hoping for.

Inside, you’re seated at a small table by the window. The waiter greets Zayne like he’s been here before, which surprises you even more. You hadn’t pegged him as the “quiet Italian bistro” type. More like “emotionally distant, espresso-fueled loner.”

But here he is. Ordering your meal with quiet confidence, asking if you want sparkling or still water like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

And somehow, it feels normal.

As you sip your wine and let the warmth of the room settle around you, you realize this whole evening—isn’t part of some obligation or checklist.

He brought you here because he wanted to.

And that realization sits quietly between you, more intimate than candlelight.

“What did you study?” Zayne asks, his tone casual but deliberate.

You pause, fingers tightening slightly around your water glass—not because the question itself is startling, but because he asked it. He, who rarely volunteers anything beyond necessity, is choosing to ask you something personal. Choosing to know you.

And that… that makes your chest feel oddly warm.

“Uhm,” you say, blinking out of your surprise. “I majored in Economics.”

He nods, his gaze steady. “I assume it’s to help your parents, then?”

You smile faintly, setting your glass down. “Yeah. I mean, I was never really pushed into it, but it felt like the logical thing to do. Legacy and all that.”

He hums, clearly understanding. “Pressure has a way of wearing itself like a choice.”

You glance at him, eyebrows raised. “That was poetic.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “It’s true.”

And you find yourself smiling—not the awkward, forced kind you used to wear around him, but a quiet, genuine one.

“Did you always want to be a surgeon?” you ask in return.

He considers for a moment, then says, “No. I wanted to be an architect when I was younger.”

You blink. “Seriously?”

“I liked building things,” he says, eyes flicking to you with a faint glimmer of amusement. “But life had other plans.”

And just like that, you realize you’re not dining with a stranger anymore.

You’re slowly, carefully, getting to know your husband.

You narrow your eyes at him, lips twitching as you lean back in your chair. “You wouldn’t have made a good architect,” you say, your tone teasing.

Zayne glances up from his plate, one brow arching in mock offense. “Oh? And why’s that?”

You shrug, swirling your water like it’s a wine glass. “Too serious. You’d probably design buildings with no windows. Just perfectly symmetrical, intimidating concrete blocks where joy goes to die.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, the corners of his mouth lifting. “I happen to like symmetry.”

“Exactly,” you grin. “You’d build dystopian fortresses and call them modern masterpieces.”

He leans forward slightly, voice lower, a touch playful. “And what would you build? Something inefficient with fairy lights and personality?”

You gasp, hand to your chest. “Yes. And they’d be beloved.”

Zayne smiles, really smiles this time—and for a second, you forget the marriage was arranged. Because god damn, he looks good when he smiles.

—•

Zayne drives you home after dinner, the quiet hum of the engine filling the space between you. The city lights blur softly past the windows, and you catch yourself smiling—again.

Not because of the food.

Not because of the warm, candlelit atmosphere.

But because he smiled at you.

Not a smirk, not a polite twitch of the lips—an actual, honest-to-goodness smile.

And it was for you.

You lean your head against the window, trying to play it cool, but your heart’s doing backflips like it’s auditioning for the Olympics.

Who knew one smile from a broody cardiac surgeon could make you feel like you were in a coming-of-age movie?

When he pulls up to the house and parks, he doesn’t rush out or unbuckle your seatbelt like earlier. He just sits for a moment, hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, glancing at you through the corner of his eye.

“Thank you,” you say softly, turning to him. “For dinner. And… for today.”

His eyes meet yours, steady. “You’re welcome.”

You linger a second longer than necessary, then reach for the door handle.

But before you can step out, he adds quietly, “I’m glad you came.”

Your breath catches, but you manage a soft smile.

“Me too.”

And as you walk up to the front door together, side by side, you realize something strange and terrifying and kind of wonderful:

You might actually be starting to like your husband.

—•

You’re halfway through your bedtime routine—hair tied up, comfy shirt on, emotionally bracing yourself for your nightly existential crisis—when you hear his voice from the living room.

“Y/N. Come sit with me.”

You freeze in the hallway like a startled cat.

Your brain short-circuits.

Come sit with me.

On the couch.

In the living room.

You peek around the corner, and there he is—Zayne, in his neatly rolled-up sleeves, glasses off, looking painfully relaxed and devastatingly unfair with one arm resting along the back of the couch like this is some indie romance movie and not your actual, real-life arranged marriage.

You fight the very real urge to scream.

Because—hello?? Attractive, emotionally reserved doctor asking you to sit beside him in dim lighting?

No. Absolutely not. Husband or not, this is a threat to your mental health and emotional stability.

Still, your feet move traitorously toward him.

You sit at the very edge of the couch, posture stiff, like you’re preparing to be interviewed, not casually sitting with your husband.

He glances at you, amused. “You look tense.”

“I am tense,” you mutter, clutching a throw pillow like it’s a life raft. “This feels like a trap.”

Zayne chuckles under his breath, clearly enjoying your slow descent into chaos. “You’re overthinking.”

“You’re underthinking. Have you seen yourself right now?”

He doesn’t answer—just reaches for the remote and switches on a movie.

And you sit there, slowly melting into the couch, wildly aware of how close he is, and wondering how on earth you’re supposed to survive a husband who smiles at you one moment and invites you to sit with him the next like it’s nothing.

It is very much something.

You shoot up from the couch like you’ve just remembered you left the stove on. “I’m gonna go… look for snacks,” you say, your voice a touch too high-pitched to be innocent.

Zayne turns his head slightly, probably about to say something—maybe to offer help or point out where the cookies are—but you don’t wait. You flee the room with the grace and urgency of someone definitely not running from their feelings.

Out of the corner of your eye, just before you disappear down the hallway, you swear you see it.

A smirk.

That little—

Nope. You’re not thinking about that. You are not spiraling over one stupid, stupid smirk.

You fling open the pantry door with more drama than necessary and scan the shelves like a raccoon on a mission. And then… there it is.

A not-so-suspicious box of chocolate. Sitting there. Unlabeled. Untouched. Almost like it was waiting for you.

Naturally, the logical thing to do is take it.

You snatch it like a gremlin, muttering to yourself, “If this is his secret stash, he shouldn’t have left it where I could find it.”

Because if you’re going to emotionally unravel over a handsome surgeon who asks you to sit with him, you might as well do it with sugar.

You shuffle back into the living room, trying not to look suspicious even though you’re literally holding the loot in both hands.

Zayne glances at the box, one brow lifting ever so slightly.

Without a word, you plop down next to him again—this time slightly closer, because apparently you’re a danger to yourself—and open the lid. You pick one out, hesitate, then hold it out to him.

He looks at it, then at you.

And takes it.

Just like that—without hesitation, without question—like it’s the most natural thing in the world for you to offer him something sweet and for him to accept it.

He pops it in his mouth, casual, like he didn’t just cause your heart to skip a full beat.

You stare at him. “You didn’t even ask what it was.”

He shrugs. “I trust your judgment.”

Great. Now you’re emotionally compromised and flustered.

You quickly shove a chocolate into your own mouth before you say something like “Why are you so attractive when you chew?”

This marriage is going to ruin you.

As the chocolate melts on your tongue, rich and smooth, you frown slightly. There’s something… extra about the flavor. A little too warm. A little too bold.

You squint at the box, lifting it closer to inspect the label. The fancy script mocks you as your eyes land on the fine print.

“Hey, these are infused with—”

You stop mid-sentence, turning to Zayne.

He’s flushed.

Not dramatically—but enough. His ears are a little pink, the tips of his cheeks tinged with color, and he suddenly seems very interested in the pattern on the coffee table.

Your eyes widen.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, holding up the box like a smoking gun. “They’re infused with wine.”

He clears his throat. “Just a little.”

“Zayne.”

“I forgot,” he mutters, and now he won’t meet your eyes.

You blink at him, then at the chocolate, then back at him.

And then you burst into laughter.

“Are you—are you buzzed from one piece of wine chocolate?”

He narrows his eyes at you, but there’s no real heat. “I’m not buzzed.”

“You’re flushed.”

“I run warm.”

You clutch your stomach, giggling. “Oh, this is so going in the mental scrapbook.”

He shakes his head, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch.

And suddenly, the couch doesn’t feel so intimidating. The air between you is warm—not from the chocolate or the wine, but from the quiet, ridiculous comfort of two strangers slowly, awkwardly becoming something more.

But fate, in all its twisted sense of humor, decided to laugh directly in your face.

Because as it turns out, Zayne does not do well with alcohol.

At all.

One wine-infused chocolate later, and he’s leaning back into the couch, flushed like he’s been running laps, and visibly warmer—literally and metaphorically.

You glance over just in time to see him tug at the top button of his shirt.

Then the second.

Then the third.

Your brain short-circuits.

You grip the edge of the sofa like it’s the only thing anchoring you to reality. Do not scream. Do not make a sound. You are strong. You are composed. You are—

He exhales, fingers working at the last button near his collarbone, exposing smooth skin and that maddeningly perfect line of his throat.

“I feel… warm,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

You don’t respond. Because you can’t.

You’re too busy having an internal meltdown.

This is not a movie. This is real life.

Real life where your emotionally-reserved, wine-chocolate-flushed husband is currently undoing his shirt on your shared couch like he doesn’t know what it’s doing to your sanity.

You bite your tongue and stare straight ahead.

This marriage is a trap.

This couch is cursed.

And Zayne, evidently, is dangerous in more ways than one.

You try—truly try—to focus on the TV.

You fixate on the screen like it holds the meaning of life, repeating in your head. Not looking. Not thinking. Muscles aren’t real. Buttons are lies. Stay strong.

But then—

You feel it.

A hand around your wrist. Warm. Firm.

You barely have time to register it before you’re turned toward him—face-to-face with all of him.

Half-unbuttoned shirt. Lean muscles. Broad chest. Collarbone on full display like it paid rent to be there. His eyes, slightly glazed but locked onto yours with an intensity that could melt furniture.

Your breath hitches. “Z-Zayne!”

Your voice comes out embarrassingly high-pitched. Like a cartoon character caught in a romantic ambush.

His hand doesn’t let go.

Neither does his gaze.

“You’re really red,” he says, eyes narrowing slightly, as if you’re the one being strange in this situation.

“I’m red?!” you squeak, trying very hard not to look down. Or up. Or anywhere.

He leans just the tiniest bit closer, and his voice drops, slow and low. “Are you feeling warm too?”

You make a noise. Not a word. Just a sound. Because your brain has left the building and taken all coherent thought with it.

This couch is no longer a piece of furniture.

It’s a battlefield.

His grip on your wrist softens, but he doesn’t let go. His thumb brushes lightly—absently—against your skin as he stares at you like he’s trying to memorize your entire existence.

And then, with absolutely no warning, he slurs softly, “You’re really… pretty… you know that?”

Your soul momentarily evacuates your body.

You blink at him. “I—what?”

“You are,” he says, a little slower, a little sleepier, his words curling lazily like they’re wrapped in velvet. “Your face is nice. Your eyes do this… sparkle thing. Like the stars. But not, cliché stars. Like… classy stars.”

You open your mouth to reply, but absolutely nothing intelligent comes out.

Because here is your emotionally closed-off husband—tipsy from a single chocolate, shirt halfway undone, staring at you like you hung the moon and casually comparing your eyes to classy stars.

This has officially become too much.

You grab the throw pillow beside you and bury your face in it with a muffled, “Zayne, you’re drunk.”

He hums, leaning back slightly, satisfied like he’s just confessed something profound.

“I’m married to a pretty girl,” he mumbles, like it’s the best realization he’s had all day.

And you? You are one slurred compliment away from combusting.

You reach out without thinking, hand aiming straight for his cheek—half to ground yourself, half because you want to see if he’s real and not just a hallucination brought on by wine chocolate and emotional confusion.

But before your fingers make contact, he catches your wrist again.

Gently. Firmly.

And then—he tugs.

You let out a surprised gasp as you stumble forward, barely catching yourself with your free hand against his chest. He’s solid. Warm. Way too warm.

Your heart skips, then trips, then sprints like it’s running late for something.

You barely have time to react before he looks up at you—eyes soft, dazed, and entirely sincere—and asks:

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s not breathy or desperate. Not bold or teasing.

He says it like a gentleman asking for a dance. Like he’s asking your permission to step into something delicate. Something real.

Your breath catches. The world stills. The TV hums in the background, forgotten.

You’re close enough to see the way his lashes rest against flushed skin, close enough to feel his breath brush against your lips.

And now, you have a choice to make.

Because despite the chaos, the circumstance, the wine-infused madness of it all—Zayne just asked you so politely to kiss you.

And god help you…

You kind of want him to.

You open your mouth to reply—maybe to say yes, maybe to question your sanity—but the words never make it out.

Because his lips are already on yours.

Gentle. Soft. Careful, like he’s still half-expecting you to pull away. Like he knows he’s toeing a fragile line and doesn’t want to break it.

Your eyes flutter shut as instinct takes over, and the world tilts slightly.

You can barely taste the chocolate on his lips, a hint of sweetness tangled with something warmer, something that makes your heart thrum unevenly in your chest.

Your mind goes fuzzy. Not from the kiss itself, but from the feeling that comes with it—the quiet kind. The kind that settles in your chest like a secret you hadn’t realized you were keeping.

He doesn’t rush it.

His hand stays on your wrist, thumb brushing softly along your skin, as if even now he’s asking—Is this okay? Are you sure?

And you are.

Somewhere between wine-infused chocolates, teasing banter, and the way he said Can I kiss you? like it meant everything—you became sure.

And so you kiss him back.

Somehow—somehow—you’re still suspended there, caught in that precarious space between balance and disaster, one hand on his chest, the other still held by his.

And then his hands slide to your waist.

Slow. Sure. Steady.

He holds you like he’s anchoring you—like if he let go, you might float away.

And that’s when the kiss deepens.

No more polite hesitation, no more softness at the edges. It’s still gentle, yes—but there’s more now. More pressure. More heat. More intention.

Your fingers curl against his shirt, and it takes every last ounce of self-control not to start undoing the buttons he didn’t already conquer earlier. Because God, you can feel the strength in him—lean muscle under your palm, warmth radiating like it was meant for you, and he’s kissing you like he’s waited a long time to do it.

You gasp softly against his mouth, and he swallows the sound like a secret.

Your mind is a whirlwind. Logic? Gone. Restraint? Dangling by a thread.

You are this close to losing all common sense and just undressing him right here on the couch like your sanity isn’t hanging on by a single, wine-infused thread.

But then he pulls back, just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, breath warm and uneven.

And he whispers, barely audible, “You taste sweet.”

You’re going to combust.

This man is going to ruin you.

The world blurs at the edges, warm and hazy like honeyed sunlight through half-closed curtains. His breath still ghosts against your lips, his hands still resting on your waist like they belong there, like you belong there.

You feel weightless. Drunk, not on wine or chocolate, but on him—the warmth of his skin, the way he kissed you like it was something sacred, the way he looked at you like you were something more than a stranger handed to him by fate.

Everything is soft. Glowing. Surreal.

Too perfect.

And then—

Blink.

The warmth fades. The light shifts.

You’re no longer on the couch.

You’re standing, stiff, in a room full of flowers and polished silence, your fingers cold at your sides.

Zayne stands across from you, buttoned-up, composed, unreadable. No wine in his system. No flushed cheeks. No trace of that kiss.

Just a man you’ve never met.

And the moment of your arranged introduction.

Your breath catches, and for a second, you don’t know what’s real.

But you do know one thing.

Whatever just happened—dream, vision, or cruel trick of the mind—it’s already begun.

masterlist

#lads #lads x reader #love and deepspace #lnds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads zayne #lnds #zayne love and deepspace #l&ds x reader #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne x you #zayne x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #l&ds fluff #l&ds #lads fluff #lnds fluff #lnds x you

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nanamiskentos · 8 months ago

Text

(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

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shra-vasti · 1 month ago

Text

I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND, PJS (PART 1)

• SYNOPSIS: A fleeting encounter with Park Jay at a high school party leaves a quiet imprint on your then broken heart. Years later, you find him again, now as an icy guitarist of the campus boy band, HYPHENIX. You never spoke again, but you remembered his eyes, his words, his presence and how he lingered at the back of your mind years after. You wanted to reach for him, but he was so far, popular, untouchable that you decided to pour your heart to him in secret, until the secret was revealed but someone else claimed it before you could. Or in which you pour your heart into anonymous letters for the cold, distant guitarist, Jay, only to watch your best friend claim every word as her own.

• PAIRING: Park Jongseong (Jay) x afab!reader

• WORD COUNT: 21.4k (Part 1)

• CONTENT TAGS: Non idol au, university settings, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, shy reader x popular Jay, down bad reader, betrayal, abandonment, miscommunications or lack of communications, profanities, name calling, stereotyping, best friend's boyfriend, reader is nosy and loves other people's business way too much (my twin fr), fear of rejection and unwanted attention, body image issues in the beginning, toxic relationships and friendships, low-key stalker reader, reader wears glasses, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything.

PART 2

• AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic turned out to be more lengthy than I initially planned, so I am splitting it into 2 part. Lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2 when I post it. Your likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated. Thank you so much for showering my write ups with your love. Happy reading♡♡

The music blaring through the speakers hit you first, deep bass vibrating through the pavement long before you reached the house. It meddled with your heartbeat, getting louder with decreasing distance from the party. You sighed leaning your head on the car's window, the house looked unfamiliar, windows glowing red, blue, green against the night. You didn't know whose house this was, just that your boyfriend said everyone would be there and to let yourself loose from time to time. You fixed the glasses on your nose, and adjusted your jacket, you turned your head to look at your boyfriend.

He looked in your direction briefly when he felt your gaze on him before sighing, "don't stress too much." You gulped, feeling anxious, "I don't really know anyone there Joon," you started, eyes brimming with worry, "you'll stay by my side right?" You heard him exhale a deep breath before throwing a wink at you, "yes babe, don't worry, you look really beautiful today, I'm stressed someone will steal you away from me." You pushed him a bit, blush creeping on your neck as you turned back towards the window.

Cars were lined up the driveway, recklessly parked. You wouldn't expect anything less from high schoolers anyway. You could hear the screams and laughter from the porch, it was loud and chaotic and it made your stomach churned. "Let's go," your eyes followed your boyfriend's actions, and you proceeded to take off your seatbelt. He stood beside the door tapping his foot impatiently, you shook your head and opened your side of the door. He locked the door behind you and started making his way towards the house. You hurriedly rushed behind him, and then slowed your steps down when you reached beside him.

The air was thick inside, tangled in a weird mix of cheap perfume, alcohol and something burning, maybe it was food or the fireworks you didn't know. Your hand latched onto your boyfriend's sleeve as soon as you entered. The environment was warm, crowded, strangers pressed against each other like puzzle pieces that don't belong together. The LED lights stung your eyes. You moved through the crowd tightly pressed against your boyfriend's side. Every corner of the room was alive with conversations you weren't a part of, some shouting over the music, some laughing at their friend's antics, some posing for pictures. The walls of the house felt suffocating though it was relatively big, the energy inside too much, reminding you that you don't belong here.

The music was pounding in your ears, too loud, too bothersome. You stood beside your boyfriend, who anxiously texted his friends asking where they are. Your eyes trailed towards the dance floor, bodies swayed with the rhythm of the music, some too close, some trying not to lose their balance. It happened too fast, one moment your boyfriend was beside you, another moment he rushed towards the other side of the room completely disregarding your presence. Your eyes followed him, your steps following suit. Someone shouted over the bass, out of frustration or joy you couldn't tell.

You grabbed your boyfriend's hand, your action making him stop to look at you. Just in time someone crashed into your shoulder, their clumsy actions making you stumble as a slosh of liquid hit the floor beneath you and onto your heel-cladded feet. The sticky scent of fruit punch or some weird concoction clung in the air, few people gathered around to look at the mess before laughing and stepping over it like it didn't matter. Your feet felt sticky and your boyfriend rolled his eyes at the sight, "how about you go to the bathroom and clean yourself? I'll wait for you here." You grimaced before nodding your head at your boyfriend and making your way towards the bathroom.

You washed your feet and heels with irritation seeping deep in your bones, this is the exact reason why you don't do parties, it's messy and loud and everything you tend to avoid. After drying your feet and heels with tissue, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror. You combed your fingers through your loose hair to make them a tad bit presentable, fixing your glasses yet again you sighed and texted your boyfriend to meet near the dance floor. You made your way out of the bathroom and towards the dance floor, scanning the room for your boyfriend as you waited for him to text you back.

"Joon?" You tapped his shoulder when you found him leaning on the wall as he chatted with someone animatedly. He turned around, visible irritation laced on his face as he excused himself and made his way in the opposite direction, you followed suit, confused about his sudden discontent towards you. "Joon, where are you going? I asked you to wait for me, didn't I?" He stopped abruptly when he was sure he was away from the eyesight of his friends. You collided with his back, "I was just catching up with my friends! Can't you at least leave me alone for a few minutes?" You shuddered at his high-pitched tone, "you know I don't like partying yet I came since you promised that you'll stay by my side."

"Gosh you're so clingy-" his voice was cut off when someone called out his name, both of you turned around towards the person, "is this your girl Joon? Won't you introduce her to us?" You eyed the girl who smiled at you after giving your boyfriend a sharp side eye. He shrugged, ushering her to join others before he turned towards you. "Take your jacket and glasses off, try to look good for me in front of my friends, I've a reputation to uphold." Your eyes widened at his words rendering you speechless. It was the first time he had uttered those words to you, was he ashamed of introducing you to his friends just as you were? You thought he loved you for you.

All of your thoughts came to a halt when he turned you around and took off your jacket despite you protesting. You weren't comfortable with showing much skin. He knew that the spaghetti strap top you were wearing underneath made you feel more conscious about yourself and your surroundings. He threw the jacket somewhere on the couch, grabbing your hand and made his way towards his friends. "Joon, you know I'm not good with people, what are you doing?" He ignored your pleas as he stopped in front of his friends. You put your head down, hoping somehow they'll focus on your boyfriend and forget that you existed.

"Your girlfriend is really pretty, Joon." One of the girls from his circle chimed, her nails lightly scratching his arms, she didn't even spare you a glance as she went on about how pretty you are, and how funny you must be. Everyone else looked a bit uncomfortable at the exchange aside from your boyfriend and her. Someone cleared their throat to break the awkward tension and your boyfriend snapped from his trance and proceeded to introduce you. Awkward and sympathetic smiles greeted you in return, their eyes meeting with each other like they knew something you didn't. The same girl asked you to have a drink, laughing obnoxiously loud as you declined as if not abusing your liver was a mundane thought to have.

Joon grabbed the drink from the waiter and held your face with one hand as he forced you to drink whatever it was in that cup, you pushed him, startled by him constantly crossing your boundaries without a single care. The whole group gasped as he stumbled backward and fell on the ground. Few of his friends took out their cameras to record the scene. You wiped the remnants of the drink dropping down from your mouth, your eyes fixed on the way your boyfriend glared at you. The girl from earlier sat by his side, words of venom spilling off from her cherry lips as she helped your boyfriend get up. And with the way your boyfriend's hand rested low on her lips and the concern etched on her face, you knew what place you held in your boyfriend's life.

You shook your head as you made your way towards the back of the house, taking off your glasses momentarily to wipe the tears that managed to fall off your eyes. The backyard was nearly empty save it from a few people who were smoking joints in the corner. You made your way towards the small staircase which led towards the gazebo and sat there, contemplating on your reactions towards your boyfriend's actions. You turned to look if he followed you but got more disappointed as you saw him wrapping his arms around the girl instead. You couldn't figure out if the shiver that went down your spine and the goosebumps on your skin was because of your boyfriend's actions or because of the weather.

You let the tears flow, your glasses fogging up as you took deep breaths to control losing your shit right at a stranger's house. This isn't how you planned the start of your weekend to go, yet here you were, drowning in your misery as your mind went back to all the things your boyfriend did previously which you ignored. You were too busy believing in his potential that you forgot to look at how he is in the present. All the lies, the excuses, the missed dates, the secrecy everything played in front of your eyes like a tape record on loop. You blame yourself for letting him play with you for so long.

You stopped crying when a blurry image came into view, you took off your glasses, wiped it with the hem of your top and put it back to get a better view. You heard a sigh from beside you, as your vision adjusted, a handkerchief. You took it in your hand and wiped your tears, unable to look at the person who handed it to you. "Young love, huh? Must be painful..." your eyes fell on the stranger who sat beside you, a half-smile adorning his face, not unkind but more like he knew how you were feeling, "but hey, heartbreak makes a good story for later, right?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment, "you're saying it like you're some old man trapped in a hot boy body."

"You're saying I'm hot?" Your cheeks flared up with heat as you let the weight of your words sink in your head, your eyes widened in embarrassment as he just laughed. You took in his appearance, he was laughing with his head thrown back, carefree and unfiltered like he owned the world. His cheeks flushed, either from alcohol or laughing, you weren't sure. His smile was wide, the kind of smile which made people look at him twice even without meaning to. His hair's a little messy, pushed back like he ran his hands through it one to many times. His eyes shined with a tipsy charm as they locked with yours, the kind of eyes which makes you forget your own name even when he's sober.

"I saw what happened back there, thought you'd appreciate a company," his words brought your mind back to your current situation, frown appearing on your relaxed face once again. You sighed, hugged yourself, maybe you could use some company, "I really thought he loved me," you started, head hanging low as you felt shame consume you for being so stupid, "I let him break one too many of my boundaries." He sighed as he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders. His scent enveloped your senses, calming your frantic heart a little, "dump him, he's not worth it and you're better than this."

You looked at him briefly, "I don't know if I have that much confidence in me, I don't have anyone else other than him." His hand made its way to your chin, lifting it up slightly, you're met with his sharp gaze, "confidence isn't loud you know, sometimes confidence is just choosing yourself over others. And I believe you're closer to choosing yourself than you think." His determined eyes and lopsided smile made your heart skip a bit. He reluctantly removed his hand from your chin, coughing awkwardly as he looked away as if his words didn't really pierced through your heart. "You think so?" You questioned meekly as you fiddled with your fingers. He looked at the sky, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped, "You don't need to be confident to walk away. You just need to take one step. And yeah, maybe you feel like he is all you have right now but he is not all there is. Don't build your entire world around someone who can't hold it for you."

You let his words sink in your chest, your boyfriend was the only person you had, he made sure of that. Maybe deep down you knew you deserved better than him, and maybe you just needed someone else to remind you, "you're great with words, can I at least know the name of the person I am trauma bonding with?" He chuckled at your words, "Jay's fine." You nodded, telling him your name in return. You spent the rest of the night talking with him, your mind drifting far off from your boyfriend as you laughed at him while he explained how he got fed up with his friends who were shit-faced drunk and creating a scene. He told you how parties weren't really his cup of tea but he liked entertaining his friends who loved it. As the night went on you realized he was drunk as well and probably won't even remember this small exchange with you in the morning, yet you were glad you weren't drowning alone in your misery tonight.

"Ah, I need to go. My friends have been calling me non stop and my phone was on silent mode." He was on his feet and off towards the house before you could bring yourself to stop him to ask for his number. You booked a cab to get you back to your house when you realized he didn't take his jacket back with him. You just looked at him as his figure disappeared into the crowd and ran towards the direction he went but you lost him and you wondered if you'll ever be able to meet me again. You reached home, head pounding due to all the crying and a little bit of drink which your boyfriend forced you to drink.

You quickly messaged your boyfriend to call it quits and blocked his number from every possible app you could, not even waiting for his reply. You opened your instagram, your fingers moving before your mind did. You recognized a guy from your school, Sunoo, at the party. He's a social butterfly. Maybe his profile could help you with finding Jay. You opened his profile, sighing in relief as his page was public, you went to the tagged section to see if you could find Jay and there he was. You zoomed in to take a clear look, the picture was blurry but the jacket in the picture looked familiar to the one currently draped on your chair. You clicked on it to see if his username is tagged and thankfully it did. His profile was more low-key than low-key, just some pictures of his guitars, a group picture and a name, HYPHENIX.

The university's campus is louder and lively than it needs to be. The courtyard buzzing with laughter and talks of people huddling together to make memories. People walk in with their little groups, coffee in one hand, backpacks slung over their shoulders, carefree like they've already figured out how to survive here, like they know they belong here. You pass through them like wind brushing past one's hair, your head down, hands clasped around the straps of your backpack. The hallway isn't any better, students rushing to get to their respective classes, some frantic, some lazed out. There's echo of shoes, heels, sneakers, boots, which remind you that you are walking with them, just not beside. Voices overlap, laughter resonates, lockers being slammed shut and class door's daring you to knock and enter. Everyone seems to have somewhere to be, someone to text, someone waiting for them to join and you just wheeze past them, not invisible entirely just easy to miss.

You're halfway to your class when you hear someone call out your name, turn around and smile softly at your best friend, Ava, short for Avalyn, to catch up to you. "Where are you running off to?" You take off your headphones and place it inside the case, "my morning class Ava! You got free time?" She shook her head, her keratin smooth hair swaying slightly at her movement, "I'm trying for cheer squad remember? I'm going for a practice session to get through the audition." You nodded your head in understanding, she had been trying to have a spot in the cheer squad for a while now, she's good at it you think, but you guess popularity plays a key role in getting into the team.

She continued to walk by your side as she gushed about how she's getting better at cheering, you listened to her, that's what you usually do. You bid her goodbye and enter your class. The class went on as usual, nothing out of ordinary. You took notes of the things the professor said, then quietly packed your things to leave. You were placing the headphones in your ears when your eyes landed on a figure standing a few feet away from you, your steps halted and there he was, Jay. He was leaning against a pillar, nodding his head at the person talking with him, one hand raking through his already messy hair. His other hand was holding onto the strap of his guitar case.

You watched him from the entrance of your class, occasionally sliding your finger on your phone screen to appear busy as you stole glances at him. Your eyes blinked a few times, not really believing the sight in front of you. He barely spoke, just nodded along the conversation with a blank expression on. He hadn't changed much, except he was now taller, his features more sharp, and more mature than you last remember. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, maybe it was because you saw him after so many years or maybe because he hadn't left your mind even once since you had a talk with him at that high school party.

He reminded you of the past version of yourself which you haven't really forgotten. A small crowd gathered around him, he sighed heavily. His eyes scanned around the area, you hid yourself behind the door of your class. You peeked from your place, your breath caught. He didn't notice you, of course he didn't. He excused himself as he started walking towards the opposite direction, the crowd following close behind him and that's when it hit you, how far both of your lives had drifted. There he was, in the spotlight, surrounded by people who admired him while you stood behind the class doors, in the shadows, wondering, watching.

"Where are you?" Ava's voice rang through your headphones as you ordered your coffee from a local coffee shop. You paid the cashier and thanked him as you made your way out of the shop, "at the coffee shop, I'm going out for a bit." You could imagine her pouting on the other side of the phone, her voice whiny, "why are you going out alone? I would have loved to accompany you, don't forget you have me by your side okay?" You pursed your lips as you nodded at her words then realizing she couldn't possibly see you, "I know Ava, but I can't always depend on you right?" She opened her mouth to protest, "you can depend on me, I'm your only friend." You frowned but didn't disagree with her, it was true that she was your only friend, she has been the only one who saw you and has been by your side since the university started and you're glad that she stood beside you and helped you.

"I'll make it up to you okay?" She squealed at your remark, hanging up the phone before informing you about her nail appointment, your eyes unconsciously fell on your own hands, maybe you could get a manicure too. High school was hard after your breakup, with no one by your side but you got through it alone. Now, as you were older and wiser than your high school self, you started to enjoy your own company too. You sipped your coffee as you walked down the street, your feet leading you nowhere in particular when your eyes landed on the familiar mop of hair down the street. You stopped in your tracks, closing your eyes, you shook your head, when you opened your eyes there was no one in sight. You sighed, you're starting to hallucinate about Jay now, it wasn't good for your heart.

You continued your way down the street, ears picking up angry voices across the alleyway. You looked at your surroundings, not many people walk around nowadays. You told yourself you were just stretching your legs, but truthfully curiosity took the best of your senses and guided you across the alleyway where the voices became more clearer as you walked closer. You stood in the corner, your eyes squinting behind your glasses to take a closer look. "I want you to focus on your academics too, Jay. We don't want your silly little hobby to come in the way of your career." Your brows furrowed when your heart a high pitch feminine voice and a name so familiar you could write in your sleep.

You crane your head to get a glimpse of the scene. There stood Jay, his head hung low as he avoided the eyes of two older people, presumably his mom and dad as they lectured him in front of their car. "Your music is taking up more of your time than your academics, don't forget you're going to be the hire of our business, the sooner you realize this the better it will be for you." Your heart sank as they went on and on about Jay's choices and how disappointed they are at him. Your eyes followed his parent's car as it left, then trailed towards the boy who now was crouched down on the road. He took a few rocks from the ground and threw them across the road, his face visibly contoured with hurt and anger.

You took a step forward before deciding against it. You were eavesdropping, which you were sure wasn't welcomed with the scenario that unfolded right in front of your eyes, but watching him slump against the concrete wall, head between his hands, you wanted to comfort him, just like how he did when you were at your lowest. You wanted to help him, encourage him to not give up on his love for music just to satisfy his parents but with the image he had built around himself in the campus, it was impossible for you to just randomly show up to him to console. He would kill you with his stare before you even opened your mouth, so you decided to stay in the shadows and help him with his issues. By being a secret admirer, the book girlie inside of you was dancing in excitement.

Early morning in the campus was just how you imagined it would be, it carried a quiet kind of hush which felt too sacred to disturb. The sun had began to rise not long ago, casting long golden rays across the campus building, few of the students were scattered around the campus, you walked through the hallway which was nearly empty save for some lone students with headphones on or a book in hand, your footsteps were light but quick as you occasionally turned around to check in your surrounding. Your hands tightly clutched around your bag as you overworked your brain to map out the locker room in the building. You relaxed when you found the large 'Locker room' sign hung upon the metal rod, your eyes scanning the area nearby before entering inside.

Few of the students were busy with their own things inside the room, none of them paying attention towards you. Your eyes scanned the area, feet moving towards the locker you were determined to find, you causally scanned the names on the lockers, totally nonchalant if anyone asked you. Your steps came to a halt when you came across the 'Park Jongseong' locker. Peeking your head at the entrance to check anyone's presence one last time, you hurriedly took out the letter you had neatly packed inside an envelope and slid it inside the locker from the small gap that was present. Your hands trembled, heartbeat erratic as you stepped away and started walking towards the cafeteria, your head hung low as you zipped your bag.

You saw Jay pass by you with one of his band members, Heeseung, the vocalist as both of them animatedly chatted about something. Your eyes followed his features, he seemed to be far more relaxed as he laughed at something Heeseung said, that laugh almost reminded you of the night of the party. You wondered what they were doing in the campus early in the morning when your eyes landed on the new notice on the notice board along with various other banners which decorated the walls of the hallway. You stepped closer to have a clearer view of the notice displayed, Symphoria 25, the widely known college fest of your university.

Your eyes went back to Jay and Heeseung who were now entering the locker room, their backs turned towards you. Symphoria, you'd heard a lot about the college fest, it draws in thousands of people not just from the campus but from the city and beyond. A perfect opportunity to showcase your talent and get exposure. Maybe Jay and his band had started early morning practice to perfect their art for the fest, it was inevitable that they would participate in the fest. You checked the time on your phone, you still had a good 20 minutes before your class started so you made your way back towards the locker room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jay to see if he got your letter or not.

The hallway had started filling in with the usual chatter of students, as soon as you were about to enter the locker room you caught Jay coming out of the room and in a reckless way to avoid facing him you turned around to run in the opposite direction. But luck wasn't by your side and your leg slipped and you fell, right in front of Jay, and his friend Heeseung. "Are you okay?" You recognized Heeseung's voice as he extended his hand for you to take. A few of the students gathered to watch the commotion. Your head was hung low, and you prayed the universe to swallow you whole instead of letting you face humiliation. You held Heeseung's hand to stand up, then immediately let go and hid your face with both of your hands.

Heeseung chuckled at your antics, finding your embarrassed self quite endearing, he looked at Jay whose eyes were trained on you, a subtle frown adorning his face, lips pursed together. Jay tilted his head as he watched, you peeked from the gaps in between your fingers, head still down, your eyes caught the sight of your letter in between his fingers, the letter still sealed neatly. "Hey don't be embarrassed, things like this happen every time," you turned towards Heeseung, your hands still on your face as you nodded at his words and bolted out of the place and towards your class.

Heeseung's eyes followed you till you turned around the corner, confusion etched upon his face like a question scribbled in a language he wasn't proficient in. He turned towards Jay, who was also looking at the direction you just ran to, his expressions blank but with a hint of curiosity behind his eyes. "I guess she was too humiliated to wait and talk, I genuinely thought she did this to have our attention," Heeseung broke the silence, making Jay look towards him. Now one would paint Heeseung as a stuck up individual after what he said, but it wasn't a regular sight for any of their band members to not have girls lining up to have a conversation with them, you'd be the first to avoid them all together. He was genuinely confused with your actions.

Your footsteps echoed off the walls of the hallway in frantic rhythm. Your hair sticking on your face and bag bouncing off your side. You reached towards your classroom door, slowing down just enough to avoid getting slammed on it. You slipped inside and scanned the room for an empty seat. Your chest raised and fell as you sat on an empty seat, you took deep breaths to look composed but the flush of your cheeks and the way your hands gripped the edge of the desk betrayed you. The professor entered the class and began the lecture but your mind drifted off towards the incident that happened back in front of the locker room. You slammed your head on the desk lightly to avoid attention, grimacing about how humiliating the incident was.

"You look tired, did you not get enough sleep?" You glanced towards Ava, who was happily munching her food while her doe eyes stared at you, "Yeah, couldn't sleep." She pouted at your words, shoving your shoulder lightly, "you should take care of yourself more, you worry me so much, you don't have anyone else other than me who takes care of you." You smiled awkwardly at her statement, internally grimacing. Her words are always sweet like honey, the kind that drips with warmth and affection until you realize what comes next, like she's trying to convince you that your light only shines when she's with you.

Your eyes wandered towards the cafeteria door when students started talking in hushed whispered and gasp, there they stood Heeseung, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon, the four members of band, HYPHENIX. Ava followed your gaze, vast smile etching on her face, "aren't they just dreamy? You think Sunghoon's single?" Your head turned towards her instinctively as her voice reached your ears, "since when are you interested in them?" You don't remember her gushing about the band before, sure they were pretty popular but Ava was too obsessed with cheer to ever focus on anything else. She just shrugged, not bothering to reply, you frowned, following her line of vision where Jay was seated with his bandmates.

Your breath hitched when you spotted the familiar looking envelope in Jay's hand, the seal broken off, he had read the letter. Your eyes traced from his hands to his face, watching, observing, like you always do. Jake was talking about something while nudging Jay, Heeseung throwing his back as he laughed and Sunghoon just shook his head, amused by his friends. Jay smiled softly, his eyes still trained on the letter in his hands, playing with its edges gently. You haven't seen him smile like that ever since you saw him, his expressions always so distant and reserved, one would think twice before approaching him. You could tell you weren't the only person to witness it when you heard whispers around you.

"Wow I never knew he could smile like that!", "so the icy guitarist of HYPHENIX knows how to smile?", "is that a letter in his hand? A love letter maybe?", "didn't think of him as the romantic type."

You turned your head back towards your food when you felt Jay's gaze travel towards your table, you hid your face by keeping your palm over half of your face. "Oh my Jay's looking towards me," your eyes met Ava's as she exclaimed happily, gathering attention from a few of the students sitting nearby. More whispers started arising after her exclamation cause indeed Park Jay was looking towards your table, at who? You weren't sure. Your mind unconsciously drifted towards the time when you fell down in front of Heeseung and Jay, and you hoped he didn't remember how you looked.

"Yah Jay you keep on looking at the envelope like it will come alive and tell you who sent you this..." You were making your way towards the last class of the day when you heard Jay's name, looking up you saw the music room sign above the closed door. You walked towards the half opened window trying to listen to what they were talking about. From where you were perched up, you could see Jay's side profile, Jake standing in front of him, you could see half of Sunghoon's face and Heeseung's back, all huddled up with their respective instruments in their hands. "I really wanna know who wrote this, I mean their words hit so close, it instantly lifted his mood as soon as he read it," Heeseung followed as others nodded. Your heart skipped a beat, you stepped away from the window. They said he loved your letter, that it instantly lifted his mood. You smiled sheepishly, a new skip in your step as you made your way towards your class.

Maybe you could continue to support him like this, silently, from afar, without the fear of getting rejected. He would be aware that there's someone who silently has his back, and you wouldn't have to worry about being the center of attention. And that's what you did, you wrote letters for him, every week. Words you couldn't say out loud found a home on paper wrapped in a plain envelope. You poured your admiration, your care, and all the quiet things you felt into the letters. You slipped them into his locker, or tucked between library books you knew he'd borrow, each note was a small piece of your heart, anonymous but sincere. You watched him smile at the words, never knowing they were yours. He would sometimes write back to you, placing his letters inside the library book he last borrowed and when he would come and check the next time, he would smile at its disappearance. He would know you got his letter when you'd mention it in your next one. And somehow, that was enough.

And the campus was big but apparently not big enough to keep your little secret in between you and him. It wasn't the letters that caught everyone's attention, it was him. Jay had always been stoic, guarded, the kind of person who kept people at arm's length, never too close but lately that shifted. He smiled more, his posture relaxed, he didn't shoot anyone with his icy glare for merely talking with him. He lingered longer near his locker, reading something in his hands. His bandmates noticed the recurrence of the letters first then few of his admirers. Questions flooded in their minds, was the guitarist of HYPHENIX finally seeing someone? Who would be the lucky person to capture the heart of someone who never showed interest in dating? And If he was getting interested in someone then who's this mystery person?

And then one afternoon, someone overheard Jay talking with Sunghoon, his voice low as he murmured something along the lines of, "I received yet another letter today, they just know what to say to make my heart skip a bit." Hushed conversations between close friends, fell upon wrong ears and soon enough the campus buzzed with new gossip about this secret admirer of Jay. The talk wasn't about Jay anymore, they were more about what made Jay change, about the anonymous person who poured their heart out on the letters, about how the coldest guy on the campus might have someone who has enough warmth that melts his walls. And how maybe, just maybe, he was starting to care about those letters more.

With each letter you wrote, your feelings for him kept on getting more intense and with all the gossip surrounding you about your own letters you wondered how Jay would react if he ever found out who was behind those letters. It didn't help that Ava seemed to be getting more interested in Jay's love life than focusing on her cheerleading auditions. You had to constantly hear her gush about this mystery admirer of Jay and how an anonymous person was getting more recognition than she ever could even if she tried her best. "Popularity shouldn't be your goal, being good at what you do should be!" You remember explaining this to her when she kept on complaining about how privileged the popular people are with everything.

She wasn't wrong entirely, everything around the campus depended upon how good you were with something and ultimately how much audience you bought with it. Maybe she wasn't wrong about not getting into cheerleading yet because she wasn't famous enough to make the cut and not because she was just decent enough for the sport. Ava is attractive, has friends from every block of the campus, yet she somehow always sticks to you. She goes to parties, easily becomes the center of the room but somehow it's not enough, it's never enough. There's always someone who is prettier, more talented, more popular who steals her show and you get her. Perhaps that's the reason you let her guide and lead your university life instead of trying and failing to meet new people who would befriend you.

For the next few weeks when you walked down your campus, every corner was slowly transformed into a living stage. The air surrounding last-minute rehearsals, buzz of sound checks vibrating against your ear drums, every corner of the university was filled with excitement. Symphoria wasn't just a college fest, it was an emotion, a movement held towards rising artists and their talents. By day the fest was filled with different stalls, and artists showcasing their raw talents to sharpen it for the night show. By the time the night arrives, the main stage would come alive with performances that shake the ground. You were excited to attend the last show of the fest as it was the night HYPHENIX would perform, the most talked about and most awaited performance of the whole fest.

You made your way towards the locker room early in the morning to place the letter inside for Jay to read before his performance. This time though, you had bought a little bouquet of red roses to cheer him up a little with a note that is addressed to him in case someone else misplaced it. You couldn't open his locker enough to put the flowers inside so you decided to keep it above the locker. You walked out of the locker room before anyone could see you, leaving letters inside his locker had gotten a bit difficult with all the attention from the campus. Yet you woke up extra early to not get caught and cheer Jay up for his performance.

You made your way towards the library to finish the rest of your assignments, dropping a message to Ava about meeting you in the cafeteria during lunch. You sat down, opening your laptop to get started. The library was relatively empty, not many students were in the mood to study when there's literal fest going on around the campus. You wondered if Jay will even have time to open his locker today, you heard they had been practicing extra hard for this performance. Lunch time rolled around but Ava still didn't reply to your text, you tried calling but no answer so you ate alone. You made your way towards the locker room to check on the flowers and letters, when you reached there was none, it made you smile at the thought that he received it before his performance just how you wanted.

The evening started off with a blast, you made your way near the left side of the main stage. You look around to find Ava in the crowd and even send a few messages of your location in case she decides to find you. You frowned at her behavior, she was so excited to attend today's show, some of her favorite people were performing, not to forget her constantly ranting about being excited to watch HYPHENIX's performance. They were the last act to perform, everyone from the campus gathered around to watch you with banners in their hands. You crane your head to see if they are coming.

They walked on the stage, your eyes landed on Jay and suddenly the crowd didn't matter. They got in their position, the noise faded, the lights dimmed around everyone else but them and you stood frozen in your spot, eyes never leaving his silhouettes. Heeseung led up to the mic, the crowd erupted, waves of cheers and reckless energy filled up the air, but your eyes were locked on Jay. Jake, the drummer chimed in and suddenly the world was nothing but sound. Jay's guitar and Sunghoon's keyboard roared to life, drums thundered beneath your feet, and the music hit you like a memory you didn't know you'd been holding onto. It wasn't just some random noise pieced together, it was emotion, pouring from the stage and crashing into you like fire and rain.

You watched them, the way their fingers moved on their instruments, how Heeseung's voice danced a high note, how they closed their eyes like the song was something they felt, not just performed and in that moment, it felt personal like somehow, they were singing straight to you. The lights flashed on the stage, the chorus soared. People around you screamed and swayed, but you stood still, like you were spellbound. It was more than music. It was a moment you didn't want to end and in that moment, nothing existed but the stage, the sound, and the feeling of you falling deeper and deeper for Jay.

You felt a wave of emotion so overwhelming that tears strung in your eyes, their performance ended and they bid their goodbyes. The crowd cheered, you were sure they would be the talk of campus if not city for a whole year. Jay looked happy as he made his way backstage and before you could think your feet led you towards the back of the stage to catch a glimpse of him, it was one of the important parts of his musical career after all, you could at least muster up the courage to congratulate him. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be bad to introduce yourself into his life as someone he once met at a random high school party. You were about to enter backstage when a volunteer bumped into you, all the papers in his hands flying everywhere. You managed to apologize to him as you helped him with the papers but your eyes were somewhere else, in search of a person you couldn't get a hold of.

You made your way deeper into the back of the stage, volunteers and performers going on about their works. You located Jake and Sunghoon at the far corner of the stage, Heeseung sitting close beside as they wore brightest smiles and talked with each other about something. You tried finding Jay, your heart beating fast as you tried finding someone who would tell you about his whereabouts. "Uh-hello, do you know where Jay went? The guitarist from HYPHENIX?" The girl randomly pointed towards the exit of the backstage, you thanked her before following the direction she gave. As soon as you were out of the door, the coolness of the night air made you shiver.

Your footsteps slowed, the moonlight casted a soft glow on your face, yet it was still relatively dark. You took a step forward, then another, then you heard voices, familiar and close. Your steps halted when you caught two silhouettes standing close to each other, then your world stopped. One second they were talking, Jay and Ava, the next second his hands were on her neck, pulling her close. Ava stepped forward, her hands reaching for his shirt to stabilize herself. Your hands didn't drop your phone, but it slipped a little in your grip as your breath stilled. A sharp pain sliced in your chest, the silence of the surroundings more louder than the ringing in your ears.

It felt like someone pierced their hand in your heart and squeezed it without any care, like your soul has been ripped apart without any warning. You felt the kind of pain that didn't echo, it throbbed in your chest, deep and ugly. You blinked once, twice, then again for good measure, hoping and praying this was just an illusion, a misunderstanding but it wasn't. It was real. Jay and Ava, kissing each other like the world around them didn't exist anymore. You stood there, watching him hold her like he's afraid if she let go she'll disappear. Your eyes landed on the bouquet of red roses in Jay's hand, the one you brought for him, confusion and hurt etched upon your face, unable to comprehend anything.

Neither of them noticed your presence, they didn't see the way your hands trembled and how your lips parted slightly like your body was trying to breathe through the ache in your heart. They didn't see the way your eyes glossed over with a kind of hurt you knew would take years to heal. You took a step back, suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, the distant sound of people leaving the campus, the humid air, the floor beneath your shoes. You turned around, mind still hazy, eyes unfocused, you stepped on an empty water bottle. Then you hear a soft call of your name, you shut your eyes closed as if it would somehow help you disappear from the unwanted moment you tried to avoid. You heard footsteps coming closer and decided you couldn't possibly excuse your way out of this uncomfortable situation so you took a deep breath and turned back around.

Your eyes landed on Jay before they could even acknowledge Ava, he tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched you. Ava's voice broke your attention from him, she made her way towards you, her arms enveloping one of yours as she beamed at Jay. "This is my best friend Jay," He smiled in your direction, your heart skipped a bit and Ava continued while looking at you, "I told him the truth, that I wrote those letters for him, I couldn't help myself from confessing to him after today's performance, you are proud of me right? I finally got the love of my life." You never once broke your gaze away from Jay as you listened to Ava go on and on about something which you both know she didn't do. You silently listened to her take the credit for the things you did, Jay's smile was wide as he looked at Ava and just like that you couldn't bring yourself to tell the truth.

"Let me drive you both home, it's too late to go by yourself." You sucked in a breath, your head turned towards Ava who nodded enthusiastically at Jay's suggestion. "I'll manage to go by myself, I don't really live too far," Jay shook his head at your words, "It's my responsibility to take care of my girlfriend's loved ones, wouldn't dream of getting on your bad side." Ava chuckled at Jay's words as she leaned against his arms, his own hands slipping on her shoulder pulling her close. You felt like throwing up, you needed answers. Jay pulled out his phone to inform his band members that he'll be leaving first and joining them later.

Reluctantly you agreed with Jay after Ava forced you to say yes and now you were seated in the back of Jay's car as you watched him act lovey-dovey with his supposed secret admirer. Ava's home arrived first and Jay got off to kiss her goodbye, you sighed, lending your head on the window wondering how you were supposed to get through with this. Jay entered the car, you were still sitting on the backseat. He eyed you from the rearview, "I think I've seen you before." You looked at Jay when you heard his voice, contemplating on whether to tell him that he did see you before or not, "well, we go to the same campus...." You trailed off softly, not really minding if he could hear your answer or not, your mind was haywire with everything that happened today anyway.

Jay took one last look at you before shaking his head, chuckling lightly and agreeing with your words. You sent a quick text to Ava about wanting to have a talk with her about the stunt she pulled and she replied she'll tell you tomorrow. You felt the car come to a halt and you straightened up, eyes taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment, you thanked Jay but he stopped you. He got out of the car and towards your door and opened it, "you don't have to do all this, Jay." But you smiled at his sweet gesture regardless and got out of his car. He bid you goodbye and went off as you watched his car retrieve from your apartment's parking lot.

You couldn't sleep the whole night, mind racing with all sorts of things. The sight of them kissing each other playing in front of your eyes like a mere flashback from a dream you wish you never had, cruelly brought to life. You tossed and turned in your bed, but neither the tears stopped nor did the hollow feeling creeping up your chest. You decided you can't take it anymore, your fingers tapping on Ava's number before you could think. It was late at night, her parents were probably asleep but they always had a soft spot for you. She picked up the phone on the last ring, her voice groggy.

"What are you trying to do? We both know you didn't write those letters..." you heard some shuffling from her end, "right I didn't, but who cares?" You frowned at her nonchalant answer, "the one who wrote the letter might come forward and expose you Ava, it won't end well for you, did you not hear how Jay is?" She groaned at your words, "well if the person was brave enough they wouldn't have pulled this secret admirer shit, I need Jay to get in the cheer team, this is my chance." You sighed, rubbing your forehead as it had started aching, "your relationship is based on lies Ava, it won't do you good, trust me. You're hurting someone else while trying to reach your goals-"

"Don't nag at me, I've already taken the leap so there's no going back, I like Jay and I want to be with him so let it go...just for once, for me, let it go please..." you sighed but stayed silent wondering if you were strong enough to watch Jay be with Ava when she clearly was using him just to gain popularity while pretending to be you, Ava continued when she didn't hear anything from your side, "I'm your best friend, I never asked you to do anything for me, please ignore what I did just this once, I'll treat him right I swear." You cut the call after talking to her for some more time, things got messier than they were supposed to be, and you wondered how things will unfold from now on.

Earlier attending university was something you looked forward to as the constant chattering of students, the latest gossip, the various events and classes helped you ignore how lonely you actually were. But now everywhere you go, there is at least one person talking about the perfect couple Ava and Jay. You tried your best to ignore but you couldn't as Ava started gaining popularity now that Jay won't leave her side whenever he isn't with his bandmates. And you, despite wanting to lay low and finish your degree quietly, were unwillingly dragged into the Ava-Jay love drama since you were her so-called best friend.

Being best friend of not so famous Ava was hard, but being her best friend after she got famous was harder. People randomly started approaching you to gain latest information about their relationship or how they behave out of the campus. They bombarded you with questions about Ava and what she liked and disliked, like you were some kind of assistant they could get information from. It was annoying, and downright disrespectful. You never wanted the spotlight but even if you did, you knew you wouldn't be happy by being labelled as someone's girlfriend's best friend. It was inconvenient at first, then it became blatantly dehumanizing when people started suggesting Ava to be with someone of her 'level' that you were just some charity case of a friend for her. What hurt you the most was Ava's reactions to those things, she just laughed with them, like she couldn't see how disrespectful people were towards you. So naturally you tried your best to ignore her and her 'well-wishers' all together.

"Come on, don't be like that! Jay has told me to make sure you'll be present at the celebration party of their successful performance at the college fest, you know how big of a deal it is for him and his friends," you continued typing your essay as Ava sat on the edge of your bed, begging you to attend the party. "I'll see if I can go...I'm not sure though..." she stomped her feet as she made her way towards your desk, hands sliding into yours to get your attention on her, "please? We haven't spent time together since so long," you sighed, releasing her hold from your hand, "it's because you're always so busy with your cheer, or Jay, or your new friends and not because I don't have time for you."

"It's not like that, you don't like being around people, I can't always cater to your needs right? You should be considerate towards me too, you're so mean," you close your laptop after saving your document and look at her as she begins gathering her things. "I didn't mean it like that Ava-" "I'll give you space, you don't seem to be in a good mood, think about your decision, I'll wait for you at the party and if you won't come I won't go either." You opened your mouth to say something but she was already out of the door. You put your head in your hands as you pulled at your hair, deciding sleeping would be best for now since you had class in early morning.

Attending early morning class felt like stepping into a world half-asleep. Your brain lagged behind as the professor went on and on about topics you were too tired to pay attention to. One of your hands grip on the coffee cup like your life depends on it and other drawing doodles on the margins of the notebook you had opened to take notes. Your eyes hurt and stifle a yawn, thanking the universe when the professor concludes the class. You check your schedule, there's still a 30 minute gap before your next, maybe you could get a refill of your coffee to go on about your day. You smiled to yourself when you stepped out of the class, feeling accomplished that you managed to survive the morning class as you made your way towards the cafe near your university for your daily dose of coffee.

"Hey!" You turned around halfway through the campus when you heard someone call out to you, "in a rush?" Jay waved at you as he made his way towards you, his guitar slung over one shoulder, his smile was easy-going as he finally stopped right in front of you. Sweat formed in your hands as you gulped, "you need something from me? I haven't heard from Ava since yesterday so I don't know where she is..." He laughed slightly, motioning you to continue your walk as he stepped beside you, "no, I'm not here to ask you about Ava, though I know I used to do that a lot but I'm here to talk with you about something else." You looked at him then immediately looked forward because how can you be this close to him and act sane? You adjusted your glasses on your face in nervousness.

"Then what are you here for?" He looked at you, biting his lips in thought and you tore your eyes away to not stare for too long. "For the party...." you halted your steps when you reached the cafe, Jay opened the door and held it for you. You meekly thanked him before entering the cafe, "what about it?" Jay ordered his coffee and you ordered yours, he paid for both the drinks before you could even open your bag to get your purse. "After our performance at Symphoria, we've got quite a few gigs and events to perform at, not to forget it's the day Ava finally confessed to me about writing those letters," you suck in your breath as both of you made your way out of the cafe and back into the university's campus.

He continued, "those letters have helped me a lot, I was going through a tough time but they helped me so much, and they also inspired us to deliver that performance at the fest. So the success of that performance means a lot to my bandmates, me and Ava alike, and since you're her best friend, I need you to be a part of it." He took a few strides forward and turned towards you making you stop your walk, "please? Attend it for me?" You sighed, attend it for Jay? Now you could do that, but you weren't sure if you'd be able to watch them without losing your sanity. "I'm not a party person, Jay and it doesn't help that Ava has other friends to be with, she won't always be by my side and I don't want to hold her back.."

He shook his head dismissing your words before you could elaborate further on how pathetic you'd look trying to enjoy the party alone, a party you don't even want to be at, "I'll be by your side then, all throughout the party hm? I'll make sure you won't feel lonely, I promise." He held out his pinky finger in front of you and if you were being honest he looked so silly you wished you could click a picture but you just sighed, eyes switching from his hands to his face, he looked at you expectantly, "I take pinky promises seriously," the corners of your lips twitched a little as you raised your hand to lock your pinky finger with his. He pulled you close, grinning widely, "thank you for coming, Ava and I would love to have you there," he ruffled your hair before jogging off towards the university's music room.

You faced the mirror, one last time, running your fingers through your hair, you opened your phone, Jay's and Ava's messages lying one above the other, both reminding you to not forget about the party. You fixed your glasses, a hint of irritation seeping in your features as you scanned your reflection, if you ditched your glasses for looks then you won't be able to enjoy the party in HD, but the glasses made you look like the loser you always need to read about in your books. You huffed a breath, reminding yourself about your no more stereotyping rule, your phone started buzzing. You looked at the caller ID, Ava.

"Hey!" You put your phone away from your ear to recheck the called ID, still Ava, "hello?" You questioned as you chew on your lips, "it's me Jay...Ava's phone was in my hand so I called you from her phone, I asked Sunghoon to pick you up from your apartment and I think he would reach in 10 minutes or so, I just called to inform you that.." you heartbeat quickened after hearing Jay's voice, then you registered the words that left his mouth, "Sunghoon? In 10 minutes? I could've taken a cab, he didn't have to leave the party for me, I feel bad." You could hear the music blasting in the background and you wondered if he could even hear you, "nah, I wanted to come pick you up myself since I invited you but my hands are full right now so I asked Sunghoon, and I don't want you to travel alone in the dark, it's not safe out there. See you soon, Ava and I are waiting for you."

You stood in front of your apartment building awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for Sunghoon's car to pull up. He didn't take much time, arriving fairly on time. He got out of his seat, his height making you take a few steps back so you don't have to hurt your neck while talking to him. He gave you a smile, his eyes landing on your heel-cladded feet before they locked once again with your eyes. You subconsciously tuck your hair behind your ear, blushing up your cheeks under his intense gaze. He offered you his hand, and you held it after looking at it for two seconds too long. He led you towards the passenger's seat, opened the door and guided you inside the car. You thanked him, a giddy smile plastered on your face as you reminded yourself that this was the supposed bare minimum, but then your thoughts went back to the same high school party where your then boyfriend didn't even look at you, much less open doors for you.

Sunghoon's car reflected his personality, sleek, dark, and polished to perfection. The smell of leather seats of the car mixed with a faint scent of his cologne, and music turned low enough to barely register. You fasten your seatbelt and watch him start the car from your peripheral vision. He didn't say much, and from the time you've noticed him you realized he wasn't a man for many words but whenever he did speak, the attention would be on him. You let yourself relax on the seat and he glanced at your movements briefly. "Thank you for picking me up, you didn't have to, but thank you regardless," You saw him shake his head at your words, a small, barely visible smile dancing on his lips, "it's fine, wouldn't want a pretty girl like you to travel alone at night." You choked on the air, shocked at his words, he laughed loudly, his fang-like teeth showing just enough to make you question if he was just teasing or being serious.

"You're teasing me, didn't think of you as a type to do that," He looked at your pouty face briefly before his attention went back onto the road, "you're easier to tease somehow, but I wasn't teasing when I said you're pretty." He didn't look at you to see your reaction, but your eyes were trained on his profile. His skin was pale, smooth like porcelain under the car's light, his lips full and precise, there was a cold grace to him, and even when he said nothing, he seemed to speak in presence, posture poised, expression unreadable, a flick of his gaze enough to silence a room. He got out of the car when he reached Jay's apartment where the party was in full blast, he helped you get out of the car and led you towards the main door of Jay's house.

"This place feels familiar," you mutter under your breath, Sunghoon looks at you, his head tilted in your direction, leaning in slightly to hear you better over the gradually increasing noise of music blasting through the speakers as you walk. You shake your head at him, laughing awkwardly as you try to figure out the weird feeling in your stomach. The door bursts open even before Sunghoon's hand stretches enough to open it for you, and your breath is knocked off as Jay stands in front of you, an easy going smile etched upon his face. "I'm glad you're here..." he smiles so bright that it's almost impossible to not mirror his smile, like he's genuinely glad you're there to celebrate. "I had to be," your eyes wander off towards Sunghoon who is now standing beside Jay, leaning on the doorframe watching you two, "you left me with little choices to make."

Sunghoon lightly chuckled as those words left your mouth, shaking his lightly at your silent jab at Jay's stubborn behavior he made his way inside the house, leaving you standing alone with Jay. "Where's Ava?" You questioned when you didn't find her waiting for you beside Jay, he sighed, head turning back to look towards the ongoing party, "she must be somewhere, I still have her phone on me, but she's nowhere to be found." You frowned hearing his statement and he quickly made space for you to enter the party, "she gets like that after drinking, she wanders off and suddenly you lose track of her." Jay chuckled at your response still his eyes scanned to room for his girlfriend's presence.

"Jay?" You softly called him, he hummed in return leaning slightly towards you to hear you better. You held your breath as you looked at him, his eyes still wandering across the room to find Ava but then slowly his eyes turned towards you, your lips twitched when his eyes locked in with yours and you gulped before continuing, "go find her, you don't really have to be by my side all night." Jay chuckled at your words, straightening up, he hooked his index finger on the bracelet of your wrist, "well you don't have anything else to do so please help me find my beloved girlfriend," and he pulled you with him into the crowd.

You take in the scene, you spot some familiar faces in the crowd, laughing, drinking, talking with each other. Your heels tap against the floor and you walk exactly behind Jay as he makes room for both of you to walk. The lights flicker in bursts of neon, casting an exciting glow on the crowd. The buzz of conversations rise and fall, people too drunk or too indulgent in the mood to care about the surroundings. You catch a glimpse of Jake talking with some people, beside him Sunghoon and Heeseung are involved in deep conversation about something only they know. Your eyes fall upon where Jay's finger is hooked upon your bracelet, a sigh leaves your lips and in a moment of distraction your shoulder bumps into someone and you lose your balance slightly.

You hold onto Jay's shoulder with one hand to regain your balance and he stops in his tracks, eyes narrowing towards the person you stumbled into, "try to look where you are going next time." The person just waves his hand, mumbling apologies incoherently as he backs off towards the opposite direction. You feel Jay's hand curl around your wrist, firmly and when you lift your head up, he's already looking at you. "You walk in front of me now, you're wearing heels, if you sprain your leg it will hurt like a bitch." You laugh slightly at his tone, his hand pulling you gently towards him and he positions himself right behind you. He's still holding your wrist, his other hand giving your shoulder a slight push to get you walking.

He's so close behind, you could faintly feel his breath on your shoulder. Your eyes scan for your best friend and you turn around towards Jay when you spot her sitting in a corner with few people, drinking happily and laughing with her whole body, "she's there, I think you should get her, I'll get something to drink for myself in the kitchen." Jay's eyes follow the path your finger is pointed at, he sighed in relief, nodding in your direction and making his way towards her. You don't have the courage to watch him go towards her so you make your way inside the kitchen, your hand tracing the spot which Jay held not too long ago. You poured yourself some soft drink, not really in the mood to drink just yet.

"Are you a baby?" You flinched slightly, turning to your side only to find Sunghoon leaning against the counter not too far from you as he poured himself a drink. Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, he looks at you, slowly making his way close to you, "only babies drink soft drinks." You roll your eyes, free hand fixing your glasses. He chuckled lightly, amused at your behavior. "I'm not a baby Mr. Park," he laughed loudly, "that's exactly what a baby would say, your pouty lips and puffed up cheeks aren't helping your case pretty." You immediately straightened up, lips pursed and face blank as you gave him a deadpan look, "I'm not a baby..." He turned around towards the counter, he mixed a few drinks from the table and slided the red solo up towards you.

"You don't seem like a type to drink frequently but trust me with this one, my friends say I'm quite good with drinks." You throw him a suspicious look, hand curling around the cup, you bring it closer to your face to inspect. "What are you both ?" Your head snapped towards the voice, Jay and Ava joining you two as Sunghoon settled beside you, his drink already half empty. "I'm trying to get her to loosen up a bit, she's always so tense." Jay's eyes narrow at his friend's words, "you don't have to drink if you don't want to," You shake your head at Jay's words and you're about to reply when Ava cuts you off, "oh my god! I've tried to get her to start drinking but she always declines me," then her eyes fall upon Sunghoon, a faint smirk forming on her lips.

"I literally made this in front of her, will you try it for me pretty? Just a taste, you won't have to continue to drink it if you don't like it." Ava's smile fell as soon as Sunghoon's attention shifted from her to you, his eyes soft as he looked at you expectantly. Jay sighed from where he was standing, his hand sliding across Ava's waist as he leaned his weight slightly on her, "Sunghoon, if she's not comfortable-" Sunghoon's hand reached forward towards your hand, which was sporting the red solo cup, he gently curled his fingers around your hand and brought the cup towards his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you as he took a sip from your cup, "there, I'm alive, now your turn, just a sip pretty."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding, fingers trembling slightly under Sunghoon's. You brought the cup near you, eyes darting around the other three before you took a tentative sip from the drink. Your eyes widened, a smirk forming on Sunghoon's face, "it'd good right?" You nodded your head with more enthusiasm than you initially wanted to show. Sunghoon laughed, releasing his hold from your hand, eyes falling upon the couple in front of him with smug confidence, "I told ya I'm good at it." Jay gave you a small smile, "you sure you like it?" You nodded your head again, taking yet another sip from the cup and gulping down the whole drink. Sunghoon whistled slowly, feeling proud of himself.

Ava looked at you, "you never drink when I offer...you're so rude and mean to me." Jay sighed pulling her closer, "some people need guidance during their first drinks baby, Sunghoon is good at that. It's not about her being mean to you." From where you stood, you could tell Ava wanted this conversation to go like it did with other people, with them agreeing to every word that spilled from her cherry lips, "want me to make you another one?" You tore your eyes away from Ava and turned towards Sunghoon, "please? This is the first time I'm actually enjoying a drink." And just like that, the night stretched ahead, you smiled to yourself, anticipation settling deep inside you for the night.

"You're tipsy, how many drinks did you have?" You were perched upon the balcony, looking over people who were playing in the pool and around it when Ava's voice cut through the silence. You hummed, standing up and leaning against the railings to have a good look at Jay's house. Your eyes trailed towards the other side of his backyard where people were roaming around, casually. "Is that a gazebo?" You muttered to yourself, leaning in more, squinting your eyes, your glasses slipping off a little. "You're going to fall down if you keep on leaning on the railings like that," you looked down towards the ground, Jay waving off his hand to signal you to back off a little.

"I won't fall," you yelled back, laughing as you fixed your glasses back. Jay shook his head, one hand on his hips while the other massaged his temple, "come down, bring Ava with you." You pouted at his words but still stepped back, holding Ava's hand in yours, you dragged her towards the pool. "Hello ladies, wanna go for a swim?" You smiled at Jake when he approached you both, you released Ava's hand when Jay stood by her side. "Don't wanna," Ava whined as Jay tried to persuade her to join. You looked away, smiling at Jake as you swayed a little, he chuckled at your dazed out state and offered his hand for you to hold. "I'm good though, I don't need your support, but since you're being so nice and offering me your help, I'll take it." Jake laughed as he guided you towards the edge of the pool.

Heeseung joined you and Jake, offering you water, "you wanna go for a swim?" You denied Heeseung's suggestion, eyes looking at the pool as you pouted, "I can't swim." Jake mimicked your expressions, but he looked like a kicked puppy more than a sulky one. You laughed, stepping forward and pinching his cheeks, "you're cute Jake." His eyes widened at your actions before turning into an icy glare when Heeseung slumped forward trying to control his laughter. Jay, Ava and Sunghoon joined you three as the boys teased Jake and occasionally your non swimmer self. You felt at ease, you were expecting to be crying in your apartment by now but you were glad it wasn't like that. None of Jay's friends left you alone, each sharing some moments with you. And by spending your time with them you realized why they are so likeable.

You were sitting on one of the chairs by the pool, Ava still beside you. The boys were already playing in the pool, your eyes drifted towards Sunghoon and Heeseung who were now seated on the opposite edge of the pool making fun of Jake who was now being chased by Jay for trying to drown him. Sunghoon's eyes locked with yours and his lips moved to say something, in your own haze you couldn't comprehend what he was trying to say so you got up, edging closer towards the pool, "what did you say?" Sunghoon laughed at your confused self and you pouted. He opened his mouth to repeat what he said when you felt a pair of hands press hard against your back.

Your heart stuttered, feet losing contact with the ground. Your confusion quickly turned into terror and the next thing you knew, your body hit the water. The water was colder than you expected, it swallowed you whole. The noises of the surrounding vanished, replied by a deafening silence. Your hands flailed, legs kicking in panic. Your lungs felt like they were going to collapse, your mouth filled with the taste of chlorine and fear. A pair of arms circled around your waist, pulling your body towards the surface. You gasped as you were finally able to breathe, your chest aching. Someone took off your glasses from your face, your hands grabbing onto the person's shoulder like you were afraid they would let go.

You felt someone else chiming in to help, pushing you on the edge as few people surrounded you. Your vision slightly blurry as you tried to ground yourself, "Ava are you crazy? Why would you push your own best friend into the pool when you clearly know she can't swim?" You were sure that it was Sunghoon who yelled at Ava for her reckless behavior, your head turned towards your left to see Jay by your side, one of his hands was cradling your head while the other removed hair from your face. You turner your head towards the right where Sunghoon was still going off on Ava, her shoulders slumped as she tried to reason out, "I thought it would be fun-"

"Fun?" Ava's eyes turned towards you, her eyes widening at Jay's sharp tone. He helped you sit up straight, Jake crouching beside you to wrap you in a towel. You shivered, because of the water or Jay's expression, you didn't know. Jay helped you get up and sit down on the chair, your legs trembling slightly. His hand slipped around your waist. "Is this your idea of fun, Ava? She could've gotten into serious trouble if I wasn't swimming near her." You looked at her, wishing to find remorse in her eyes but all you saw was humiliation and anger as she glared at you. She turned around, making her way back into the house.

"I'm so sorry about that, you aren't hurt right?" You shook your head, lips trembling slightly, "I'm fine, just a little shock that's it." Jay nodded at your words, sighing as he took in his surroundings. "You guys go enjoy the party inside, I'll take care of this." He motioned Jake, Heeseung and Sunghoon to lead the crowd back inside. "Take care of yourself, yeah?" Sunghoon requested before going back inside with everyone else. "You aren't responsible for her actions, plus she didn't mean to do it in the wrong way, she's always been like that..." Jay's eyes snapped towards you in lightning speed, "that still doesn't mean what she did was right, you could've gotten seriously hurt."

You shivered again when the wind passed by you, your head was starting to spin. "I'll bring you some dried clothes, you'll catch fever otherwise," You nodded at his words, your chest and throat aching. Jay lifted your face with his hand on your chin, your breath hitched at the proximity. He slipped on your glasses, adjusting it on your face for you. "Thank you," you mumbled, not daring to say it louder, "I can see you clearly now." Jay laughed, losing his balance on the chair, you extended your hand and he happily grabbed it to balance himself. "I'm glad you can see me now." You laughed with him, amused by everything that unfolded in today's party.

You were perched on the bench beneath the tree on the university's campus. Scrolling through your phone in search of something to distract you while you wait for your next class to start. You looked up at the tree above you, its green leaves falling upon you inconveniently. You packed your belongings back in your bag, pocketed your phone and remembered you had to borrow some books from the library for research purposes. "You seem to be so at peace after wreaking havoc in my life," you turned towards the source of voice, frowning at the way Ava walked towards you, eyes scrutinizing your presence. "What are you saying?"

"The pool wasn't even that deep, Jay and his friends were swimming in it just fine, why did you have to overreact like that, do you even know how much Jay has been lecturing me about that incident?" Ava huffed as she reached near you, crossing her arms and waiting for your reply as if you were a murderer waiting for your conviction. "They could swim just fine because they knew how to swim, if that's your logic why didn't you jump in the pool? You also don't know how to swim right?" Her expression flattered, hands going on her hips as she scoffed at your words, "you know I care about you, I didn't do it because I wanted to harm you, yet I'm the bad guy here, how would I know you'd end up like that?"

You rolled your eyes at her words, but the slight pity in your heart for her was overpowering your senses, "why would you even push me there in the first place?" She stomped her leg, pouting at you as if you denied her favorite candy, "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, tell Jay and his friends that you forgave me okay? Bye." You opened your mouth to say something but she was already walking away from you. Finding the boys wasn't very hard considering they spent most of their free time in the music room. You took in a deep breath before you knocked on the door. You pushed open the door, peeking in to see if it was occupied, Jake was the first person your eyes landed on, beside him sat Heeseung, both of them pausing mid-discussion. Sunghoon sat a few feet away, hands on his keyboard and beside him sat Jay, his guitar on his lap.

You stood at the doorway, not exactly sure why you even decided to entertain Ava's idea but you did it, so she won't have another reason to whine at you and also because you wanted to have some reason to be near Jay, even for a while. "Don't stand there looking like a lost puppy, you planning on coming in?" Your internal monologue ended quickly as Heeseung words rang in your ears. You awkwardly shuffled inside, closing the door behind. "Um-" You started, internally criticising yourself for not thinking through before you entered. Your eyes wandered towards the boys sitting in the room, four pairs of eyes, all focused towards you.

"Come sit here pretty," blush rose upon your cheeks as Sunghoon pointed towards the empty chair beside Jay, you nodded sheepishly, and made yourself comfortable. You were about to start saying something when your eyes landed on them, everyone just went back on doing what they were doing previously like you weren't present there at all, your brows furrowed in confusion and you wondered if you should say what you wanted to say or just slip out of the room. "Guys-" And just like that, everyone's attention was back on you, "yeah?" Jake urged you to continue and you shifted in your seat to turn towards Jay.

"I just wanted to say that the pool incident wasn't that big of a deal, things like that happen when you're trying to play pranks with your friends anyway," you laughed awkwardly, "I don't want you to be upset with Ava because of that." There was a brief moment of silence after you finished what you wanted to say, the silent stretching long enough for you to start rambling again, "she's a very good friend, she has always been by my side when I had no one, she can be a bit childish at times but she's sweet at heart-" "Are you trying to tell that to us or yourself pretty?"

"You, ofcourse." You answered quickly, but fidgeting with your hands was a dead giveaway of your real feelings. Jay put his guitar at his side, sighing once before turning to look at you, "did Ava ask you to do this?" You shook your head no, one hand raising to fix your glasses in place. "I saw you talking with her-" "Oh my God, you did?" "I was lying but you busted your own lie with this one." Your shoulders slumped in defeat, "okay maybe I did come to you because she told me but I was about to do that regardless." You blinked at them, smiling and waiting for them to say something, "you wounded me, we thought you wanted to hangout with us." Your eyes widened at Jake's words, "why would I want to hang out with you guys?"

Heeseung's hand clutched his heart, slouching forward as if it physically pained him to hear that sentence leave your mouth, Jake's hands flew on his mouth, Jay had an amused grin on his face and Sunghoon just smirked, "I'm sorry we aren't cool enough for you to hangout with us pretty.." he laughed watching color drain off your face. "No, it's not like that- I mean- wait you guys- you're twisting the plot, I'm not Regina George!" You sulked slightly, crossing your arms as you watched them topple over laughing at your panicked state, "I just wanted to say that I did not think you guys would want to hang out, since you know...we aren't close, I'm just Ava's best friend."

"You could be my best friend if you want," Jake smiled, throwing an exaggerated wink in your direction, you laugh as he threw his finger hearts. "Seriously though, you're not just Ava's best friend, you're fun on your own okay? Why wouldn't we want to hang out with you, we literally let you in the music room without further interrogating you!" A genuine smile tugged at your face at Heeseung's words, which stretched into a full blown grin when the others nodded their heads in agreement. "And what Ava did was wrong, and she should have apologized to you then and there but she didn't, which was again, very wrong of her." You couldn't bring yourself to deny Sunghoon's words.

Your eyes fell upon Jay who was silent all through this portion of conversation, he sat still, eyes unfocused as he stared ahead, his brows furrowed. You could tell he was listening but had his mind somewhere else, "Jay?" Your soft voice brought him back from his thoughts, he looked into your eyes, "Let's just move past this, guys..." and no one could bring themselves to debate with you further. "It's my birthday in two weeks, we're planning a trip, I was hoping you'll join us.." You pointed your index finger towards yourself, as if anyone inviting you for their birthday was something you had only thought of in your luxury dreams list, Sunghoon gave you a deadpan look, "who else?" Yeah that gave you the answer you were looking for.

The trip to Jay's birthday arrived more quickly than you could decipher. Jake informed you that the trip was more like a staycation on Jay's vacation home, from the moment you arrived at Jay's vacation home you knew you've stepped into something exquisite. The gated driveway winds through lush green gardens until the villa reveals itself, the sleek architecture, coastal elegance and everything about it screams luxury. As Jay pushed open the grand double doors, you're greeted by high vaulted ceilings, polished marble floors, and floor-to-ceiling glass panels that blur the line between indoors and the shimmering ocean beyond, you could hear Ava gasp from where she was standing beside you, Heeseung just chuckled, nudging you to go forward.

The scent of the ocean lingered in the air, and Jay informed everyone about their sleeping arrangements. "Everyone gets their own room?" Jake chuckled at your bewildered, stepping closer to help you put the luggage in your room. You made your way through the open-living room plan towards the first floor where your room would be. You, Heeseung and Sunghoon would be sleeping on the first floor whilst Jake, Jay and Ava would be on the ground floor. When everyone was done checking out the interior, your footsteps took you towards the exterior of the house, where the real magic lied.

A pathway of natural stone leads directly to the secluded beach. The sand is soft, untouched and the water crystal clear. There was not a single soul in sight, only the rhythmic lull of waves and the occasional cry of a distant seagull. "Wow, baby! This is literal heaven," your eyes wandered towards Ava who was now clinging onto Jay's arms like he would disappear if she let go. He smiled back at her, ruffling her hair as he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. You looked away, towards the beach where waves crashed into the shore in a gentle kiss. Your chest tightened, a small frown appearing on your face unintentionally. "You good pretty?" Sunghoon nudged your shoulders with his, his gaze trained towards the serene beauty in front of his eyes. "Yes I am-" "Let's see the beach from up front," before you could reply to Sunghoon you felt yourself getting dragged towards the beach by Ava, Jay shouting behind you to be careful. You looked back, Sunghoon giving you an amused look before retreating his steps back into the villa.

Jake called you back after sometime, deciding that since it was already late, everyone could eat the dinner and sleep away the exhaustion to properly enjoy tomorrow. Everyone wordlessly agreed, too tired to explore further. Everyone bid their goodbye. You went into the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water before you went back into your room, your footsteps light. You poured yourself some water, taking a water bottle with you since you felt too lazy to get out of your room again. You slowly made your way towards the staircase leading towards the first floor when you heard light giggles. Your head turned towards the voices instinctively.

Jay had Ava backed up against the wall in between their rooms, their limbs tangled together with a quiet urgency. Jay kissed her like he was falling, fast and fearless and she kissed him back like she knew how to catch, but never intended to. Jay's hand moved from her waist to the door handle, opening it and backing Ava into her room. The door clicked shut behind them, and you still stood there, watching, like you always did. You gripped the bottle tightly, heart heavy and hollow at the same time. You made your way inside your room before your tear could manage to escape. The door clicked shut behind you with more force than you intended but you didn't care, not at this moment when the world around you felt like it was caving in.

"Someone help me with the drinks!" You yelled out to no one in particular as you watched everyone just beeline towards the beach. You put your hand above your head, eyes squinting at the sun. You internally thanked yourself for opting to wear lenses instead, beach and glasses would be a disastrous combination, "let me help you.." You turned towards Jay who slowly made his way towards you. He smiled, taking the box of drinks from your hand and signalling his head towards the lighter box instead. "I would've asked the boys to help with these, you didn't have to help with this." You shook your head, adjusting the box in your hands, "no worries, but if I collapsed right now, tell my parents I died a hero."

Jay's eyebrows rose at your remark, a slight smirk gracing upon his face, "by carrying a box of drinks? How noble. I would crave 'Gone too soon- by a box of Cola' on your tombstone." You huffed a breath, "are you sure we are not hazed? Why does this feel like a punishment?" Jay grinned clearly enjoying your suffering, "I think they went in first to avoid this exact trouble, we were set up." You just shook your head at his words, setting the boxes near each other, Jay ruffled your hair, then Ava called his name and he waved at you before running towards her.

The sun is warm against your skin as you step into the soft sand, the ocean glittering ahead. Around you the world felt lazy and dripped in golden hue but you couldn't shake away the heaviness of your heart. Jake and Sunghoon were already waist-deep in the ocean, calling out the rest of you to join them. Heeseung reclined on a lounge chair, under a fluttering umbrella. Oversized sunglasses perched upon his face as he smirked at the boys playing in the water. Your eyes travelled towards Jay and Ava, who sat a few feet away from you on a shared blanket, their silhouettes framed by the glow of the sun. Ava leaned into him, laughing at something he whispered in her ears.

You knew it was better to look away, that ignorance was the only choice you had in this situation, but you couldn't bring yourself to do that. But your eyes stayed fixed on the way his fingers gently brush a strand of her hair away from her face, and how she leaned her head on his shoulder like she belonged there and maybe she does. You watched as Jay lay down on his stomach, and Ava on her back, his eyes closed as his hand circled around her waist. You wished you could just walk up to him, sitting beside him as your fingers traced your name on his back, not to claim or to mark but to belong, even just for a fleeting moment. But you don't move, you just watch as she calls his name when he runs off towards the boys to play in the water.

"You aren't getting spared just because you are busy daydreaming in your own world, pretty." You screamed as you felt Sunghoon pick you up bridal style and run towards the beach as he spoke. "Yah, you know I can't swim." You tried kicking your legs to get him to put you down but there was no real fight in your attacks, "I know, that's why I'll be near you when you play! Trust me pretty." And with that Sunghoon jumped into the water with his still in his arms. Jake and Heeseung joined you two and helped you with splashing water on Sunghoon's face.

"You're doing good pretty, just hold onto me tight." Your hands were on Sunghoon's shoulder while he had his on your waist as he guided you deeper into the ocean. You shrieked when you couldn't feel anything beneath your feet and his hold tightened around you, his arms now circling around your waist as he pulled you close. Jay watched both of you pinch Sunghoon's ears for his clumsy actions, something twisted low in his stomach and he couldn't explain why watching you both play together made his fingers tighten around Ava's waist. "Jay, it hurts." His attention went back to his girlfriend who looked at him with a questioning gaze, he shook his head, his fingers soothing the skin on her waist as a silent apology.

"Alright, it's enough for the day, let's get back to have dinner." Your head turned towards Heeseung's voice, you walked up to him, others following close behind. "Had your fun?" He asked, one of his eyebrows arching as he spoke, you nodded your head as both of you fell into a casual conversation. "Okay how about we split the chores?" Ava groaned as Sunghoon's suggestion, clearly displeased. She leaned her weight on Jay, blinking up at him as she pouted, "I'm too tired to help..." Sunghoon scoffed unintentionally and Jake's coughed in his elbow to mask his laughter. "You just laid there on the beach and did nothing but you're tired?" Jay threw a glance at Sunghoon, clearly intending to make him shut up, then he looked at you, his eyes soft, "both of you go rest, we will call when everything's ready okay?"

Ava lit up, reaching up to kiss his cheek she ran inside the house and into her room, without a single glance towards the mess everyone was left with. You heard Jake sigh softly beside you, looking at the mess, hands on his hips. You stepped closer, bumping your hips with his, "how about Jay and Heeseung take care of cooking, Sunghoon can take care of collecting the empty drink bottles and both of us will clear the garbage?" He grinned at you, clearly pleased with your suggestion when Jay's voice cut through the air, "we will handle it, you should go and rest, you helped earlier too." You shook your head at his words, "I want to help, so please let me, and the more people are helping the sooner this will be over." You smiled as you pushed Jake towards the cleaning supplements to get started.

"Wow this took longer than we thought," you straightened your back, nodding your head at Jake's complaints. The sun had set and the moonlight casted a soft glow on the ocean. The streetlights were turned on and everything looked straight out of a movie. "We're done with dinner!" You looked at Jake who mirrored your smile, "first one to reach the kitchen is the loser!" You said as you ran towards the kitchen, Jake followed close behind as he complained about you getting a headstart. You laughed when he reached the kitchen first, giving Heeseung a jumpscare when he bumped into him. You laughed at his proud face, enjoying yourself more than you thought when Jay's voice cut in, "Ava's still sleeping, I'll bring her dinner later, let's get fresh and then we will eat."

Dinner was spent with Sunghoon and Jay's bickering while Heeseung just laughed at his friend's banter. Laughter echoed over clinking cutlery, voices overlapping and plates passing with casual affection. "I literally said the first person to reach the kitchen is the loser." Sunghoon laughed loudly at Jake's bewildered face, his eyes round and big as he looked at you, "you're so mean.." You reached out and ruffled his head, cooing at his whiny self, "your fault for not listening properly." He slumped against the chair, giving you faux glasses as other's made fun of him.

"We're sleeping early?" Jay questioned when everyone started complaining about being tired, a gentle frown etching on his face as he looked at you all. Sunghoon nodded his head, "Ava hasn't eaten since afternoon, so feed your girl, we will sleep too now, all the cleaning is finally creeping up on me." Heeseung, Jake and you religiously nodded, making Jay sigh as he prepared a plate for Ava and made his way into her room. "Let's get the cake and other things ready, I believe he will be occupied enough till we get things done," Heeseung whispered as soon as the door clicked shut behind Jay and everyone started preparing for the birthday boy's surprise.

"Okay, I believe we are ready, are we ready?" Jake whispered, box of cake in his hands, beside him stood Heeseung and Sunghoon who had party poppers in their hands. You were given the responsibility to record the moment. You focused the camera on the cake, then slowly backing away to capture all three of them in a single shot. You softly giggled looking at them, a big grin plastered on your face as you recorded them. All four of you were wearing birthday hats, and you couldn't help but coo at how cute the three boys looked. In one of your hands were two birthday hats, one of them extra large since it was meant for Jay. You looked at the timing, signalling them it was time for all of you to huddle outside Ava's room.

You knocked on the door, waiting patiently for Jay to open it. You wondered if giving Jay a surprise while Ava wasn't involved in it was a good idea or not but the plan to surprise was spontaneous, the one which you made while you were cleaning, later Sunghoon informed Heeseung about it when he found him alone. Ava never got out of her room, so you figured it wasn't anyone's fault she wasn't involved. Your heart drummed against your ribs, mind swirling with thoughts that if you catch them in their intimate moments, you couldn't bring yourself to handle that scene again. But all your thoughts flew out of your mind when the door swung open and Jay emerged from the door looking confused.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY JONGSEONG!!!" All four of you screamed, confetti flying everywhere as Jay laughed, completely amused at the little surprise his friends pulled. Sunghoon took the large hat from your hand and placed it neatly on Jay's head. Ava emerged from the room, her hair messy and she was barely awake. You passed the phone to Heeseung and placed one hat on her head. Jay cut the cake, and the rest of the night was filled with questions from Jay about the surprise and what all went down while preparing. Heeseung apologized to Ava for excluding her from the surprise as he explained how the plan was spontaneous and no one got any opportunity to approach her. She smiled at him as she waved his concern off, but when the little party was almost over you could feel her mood getting sour as she looked at you.

You got comfortable on the bed, sighing in relief as your body relaxed. You turned to your side, pulling the blanket closer, you slipped into sleep the moment you closed your eyes, body too drained to resist it. For a while everything around you stilled, the noise, the thoughts, even the time. But after few hours, something stirred, and your eyes blinked open, heart and mind racing. You're half-awake, half-dazed, your body begging you to just go back to sleep. You tried going back to sleep, but it was too late to go back to how it felt before. You got off from the bed and made your way downstairs, maybe Some fresh air would help you with the sleep.

You stepped out of the villa, the air around you lighter and cooler. You made your way towards the narrow stone path, leading you towards the quiet overlook by the cliffside, where the ocean stretches endlessly below. The sky opened with each step you took, you breathe in the air, the wind gently caressing your body. "What are you doing here this late?" You jumped slightly, heart skipping before your mind caught up but you didn't move. Jay stepped beside you, leaning against the railings of the overlook, his eyes trained on your face as you looked ahead. "Couldn't sleep," you whispered, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment.

"Something's on your mind?" You finally looked at him, his shirt was slightly crumpled, hair disheveled, his fingers twitched once before he clasped his hands together in stillness, his gaze was hard even though he looked composed from the outside, "you're angry, what happened?" The words left your mouth before your brain could catch up and your lips trembled as he locked his eyes with you. "I'm not angry," he stuttered lightly, clearing his throat and you looked away, biting your lips. "It's Ava right? Wanna talk about it?" He sighed, looking up towards the sky then back at you, contemplating whether he should talk to you about it or not.

"She got angry at me since she couldn't wish me at sharp 12..." You eyes widened at his words, disbelief gracing your face at the sheer absurdity of the situation, he looked at you, sitting down and motioning you to join him, and when you did, he continued, "I was so shock, she was in a sour mood, she wasn't even looking at me when I tried to approach her so I asked her till she told me why she was acting that way," you silently listened to him, feeling bad that he got into such situation on his birthday, "she has always been like that, there was a time when I didn't pick up her call at 12 AM sharp on my birthday cause I slept and she didn't talk to me whole day," you chuckled lightly.

"Is laughing your type of coping mechanism? Considering she's your only friend, and she didn't talk with you on your birthday, doesn't that make her a bad friend?" His questions caught you off guard and you coughed to reduce the awkward tension it rose in the air. "She'll come around, Jay." He looked at you like he was trying to search for some answers he knew you wouldn't verbally give him, "can I share something with you?" His voice was soft as he asked you that and you nodded your head, not finding the courage in you to decline his request. "You're the only person I'm sharing this with, I know you're her best friend so you should probably be the last person I'm saying this to, but from the time I've known you, I know there's no one better than you who would understand me...."

You nodded your head at him to continue, he looked around, his shoulders slumping slightly, "I feel like the Ava in front of me is so different from the girl who used to send me letters..." your stomach dropped at his words, you didn't say anything, you kept your face still but your inside twisted but still you forced a hesitant nod, "like she's very sweet, but the kind of person I imagined her to be, the kind of person I fell for is so different from the reality. We have our sweet moments but they don't feel real to me," he played with his fingers, head hung low, "whenever I try to talk to her about the letters she diverts the topic by saying what matters is the present, her letters always used to see through me, I felt seen in those letter, I didn't even have to say anything but her letters told me they understood regardless, but it isn't the same anymore, it feel so unreal."

"Jay," you sighed wondering what words would even bring peace to his heart, you wanted to tell him the truth, that it was you who wrote those letters and not Ava, but you couldn't bring yourself to confess that. "You're her best friend but I keep on complaining about her behavior to you, don't snitch on me," he pointed a finger at you, "please?" You laughed at his actions, "I won't tell her about this, I promise." He looked at you, eyes squinting as if he didn't believe in your words, "pinky promise?" You stretched your pinky finger towards him and his eyes lit up as he hooked his pinky finger with you.

Jay looked at the ocean in front of him, "relationships are more complicated than I thought they would be." You nudge your shoulders with him to cheer him up a bit, "tell me about it..." you rolled your eyes, standing up and extending your hand to him, the sun would start to rise after sometime and it would be better if you head back so you'd have enough energy to travel back home tomorrow. He held your hand to pull himself up, dusting his pants a bit. Both of you just walked back in without any conversation, the silence more comfortable in between you. "Let's grab something to drink before we go to bed," you nodded, letting yourself be a little bit more selfish for wanting to spend time with him.

The light of the refrigerator drapes a soft glow on his face, highlighting the curve of his sharp jaw, the way his lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks, his messy hair which somehow still looks perfect to you. And he looks calm, thoughtful even like your heart isn't shattering into pieces right beside him. You took a few steps back, leaning against the counter, pretending to look at something on your phone but your eyes are trained on him. On the way his brows squint slightly to decide which drink to choose, the way he quietly mumbles to himself as if he belongs to a place which is softer, quieter. And you love him. God, you love him.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, try to tear your eyes from his frame, to have some mercy on your heart. You wish you didn't feel this way, wished you never wrote those letters and kept your love hidden deep in your heart. You wished he would just turn around and look at you like you aren't just his girlfriend's best friend but someone who was actually meant to be his. And he turns around and looks at you, flashing you a quick smile, and it shatters you because it's the kind of smile he gives to everyone, and not the one you're dying to get, the kind he has reserved only for Ava. But you smile back, you pretend like you're not falling apart under refrigerator light for a boy who has no idea what he has gotten himself into.

He makes his way towards you, now handing you a soft drink and leaning right beside you. He takes a sip, humming lightly as if he hasn't tasted the same drink countless times today. "So," he started, putting the drink on the counter and turning towards you, "did you break up with your boyfriend?" You choked on the drink at his random question before calming yourself, "what boyfriend?" You tilted your head as you waited for him to answer, he just shrugged, "the one who humiliated you in my birthday party some years ago in high school." Your jaw dropped before you could stop it, "you remember that? And it was your birthday party?"

He nodded his head, finding your reaction amusing, "I was wondering when you'd say something about it but you didn't." You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again when you couldn't find the words, "so did you break up with him?" You nodded your head at him, "yeah, just after I reached home, I broke up with him and never looked back. I realized it after so long that deep down I knew he wasn't treating me right, I just wanted someone else to remind me of that and you did." His eyebrows arched at your words, his lips twitching into a smile, "guess you owe me a big one then," You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder a bit, "in your dreams Jay."

He laughed at your words, now taking both of your drinks and throwing it in the bin, "I'm glad that I met you, I don't think I'd be here if I didn't meet you that day." He smiled softly at your words, turning towards you, he stepped closer, "I'm glad you're here too, I feel so relaxed right now, it's amusing really..." you tilt your head at him, "what's so amusing?" His eyes went back and forth from your face then to the ground a couple of times, wondering if he should say what he wanted to, "hm? Jay?" He sighed, clearing his throat a little bit, "this," he said, waving his hands in between you two, "what's this?" You chuckled, finding his hesitation endearing. "This thing in between us, it feels," you stepped closer, nodding your head at him to continue, "it feels what Jay?" "Real. It feels real."

"Pretty I feel like Jay's birthday this year is going to be very eventful," you and Sunghoon were sitting on the kitchen island, eating fruits, Ava insisted Jay to spend some alone time with her before you go back home so they were out, Heeseung and Jake were still sleeping. "Why's that?" You questioned as you took a bite of watermelon. "Jay said Ava was upset we didn't involve her in the surprise, which doesn't make sense cause Heeseung apologized for it and gave her genuine reason, right?" You nodded and he continued, "but I believe they got into an argument or something, Jay's been tense but he said that Ava wanted to throw a surprise for him too, all alone, and he agreed because he said it would make her happy."

You hummed in response, knowing well that Ava has a habit of bringing attention towards her in any situation, so it was inevitable that she would ask Jay to do something like that. Surprise for Jay sounded good too, they had been dating for months so she must've had something in her mind. "Let her have her moment, despite the reasons we could've texted her or something but we managed within ourselves so let her show her love towards him the way she wants." Sunghoon nodded, silently agreeing with you as he ate the apple, "I hope everything will go well, she didn't even ask any of us for help," you sighed at his words, praying everything would go well.

Now you're dressing up for the surprise Ava had planned for Jay, she called everyone to the living room when both of them returned from their little outing and informed everyone to dress up nicely after you reached back home and meet in her parent's house since they were out on a business trip, he seemed quite excited about it. You hoped it would live up to his expectations and not end in yet another argument. You sighed watching yourself in the mirror, one hand holding the glasses while the other the lenses. You put the glasses down deciding lenses would be a great option if Ava or for that matter anyone else thought about pushing you into the pool again, you'd at least be able to see your downfall clearly.

You asked Ava if she needed your help and she just shrugged, declining your offer and throwing a snarky comment at you, something along the lines of, "wouldn't want anyone else to take credit for what I am going to do for him." And you just hummed, not wanting to trigger her more by reminding her that of course she'd fear someone else taking credit given that she has done the same to date Jay. Those words sounded very rich coming from her, the hypocrisy was astonishing. You texted Sunghoon the address of Ava's parent's house and asked him to forward it to the other boys.

Your eyes fell upon the clock, and you grabbed your things, booking a cab and texting Sunghoon that you'd reach the house in 20 minutes. He texted a thumbs up emoji, informing you that they would arrive at the house around that time too. You leaned against the car seat, watching the other vehicles pass by you in a rushed blur. Your heart thumped in your chest for some reason and you took a few deep breaths to calm the nerves down. It was inevitable you'd feel anxious, it's all you had been feeling ever since Ava started dating Jay, you were mentally preparing yourself to watch them being all lovey dovey in front of you without having a breakdown yourself.

You arrive at the house, a small envelope in your hand, the evening sky painted in hues of pink and yellows. When you reached the door of the house, you could hear faint chatter from inside the room. You hesitate, glancing down at the envelope with Jay's name written on it and then back up at the faint lights flashing through the living room's curtains. You frowned, texting Ava about your arrival, you twisted the door open after you got a signal from her and stepped inside. You were still standing near the entrance of the house, the house was pitch dark, but still you could hear some murmurs, more clearer than before.

The door behind you swung open, the night air brushing your skin as you turned around to find Jay hesitantly step inside, one hand clutching his phone and the other the door. His silhouette was half-hidden in the shadow. Behind him stood Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jake, anticipation etched on their faces. Someone behind you switched on the lights and Jay blinked, first because of the lights and then towards the crowd in front of him. You heard someone gasp from behind you, "Jay is here," and a loud chorus of "SURPRISE" erupted in the previously silence-filled house. Confetti exploded through the poppers, the music volume rising up like inflation.

Ava's shoulder brushed against yours as she ran towards Jay to hug him, he hugged her back, blinking in confusion. The other three entered the house from the corner, Sunghoon throwing a worried look towards Heeseung who silently hushed him. Jake's eyes locked with yours as he passed by you, then he turned towards his other friends to whisper something. Jay smiled tightly when Ava dragged him towards the mini stage where she kept the cake for him. And his eyes found yours before Ava cupped his cheek to give him a birthday kiss. The music stopped and Ava gathered everyone's attention, "Today's my lovely boyfriend's birthday so first we will cut the cake and then we can continue with the celebration."

Loud cheer erupted at her words, you kept your gift on the corner where everyone else kept theirs and made your way towards the mini stage where others were already present. Ava cheered loudly, a bright smile adorning her face as she took off the cover from the cake, a towering, picture-perfect chocolate cake, glossy with ganache, topped with sparklers and gold-letter candles spelling his name. His smile flattered for a second before he masked it with his politeness. "Ava," he whispered quietly, eyes darting towards the people watching each of his actions in anticipation, "I'm allergic to chocolate." You could see the color drained from Ava's face as she looked around at others. "I ordered a vanilla cake, the bakery may have misplaced my order." She pouted, clinging onto his arms as other people gave her words of sympathy that it's the thought that counts.

You were sitting on the couch beside Sunghoon, in front of you sat Jay and Ava, the music blasted in your ears, but you could still decipher the conversations going around you. Jay tapped his foot repeatedly against the ground, his shoulders tensed as he took a sip from his cup. "You're repeatedly tapping your foot on the ground, if you wanna dance, you could've just said so, come on, let's dance." You could see Jay froze at her words but didn't really resist when she dragged him towards the dance floor. You watch as Ava laughs, all bright and confident, clearly proud of the party she has thrown. You could see her dress sparkle and sway with her. One of her hands was clasped around Jay's wrist and the other waved the crowd off to make some space for them.

You could see the way his shoulders sank when he reached the center of the dance floor, the way his eyes were scanning the room, over the crowd as if he was checking the exits. Ava pulled him closed, dancing around him carefree and unbothered. She turned around to face him, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer, she leans in for a kiss and he obliges, people cheer around them, flashing on camera making you blind. And he laughed when they pulled apart, hands on her waist as she sways. Your heart tugs a little, with sadness or jealousy you aren't really sure, cause you know Jay prefers to spend his birthday around his loved ones, intimately and not amongst the crowd. You know, because he had mentioned about it in one of his letters.

"You do realize he is not the one you're supposed to be looking at, right?" You jumped at Sunghoon's voice, "huh? What?" He shook his head as he leaned back on the couch, your eyes following his actions, "Jay," he started, taking a look at him briefly before looking at you again, "you aren't supposed to look at your best friend's boyfriend with that intensity in your eyes, what happened to the girl code?" You choked on the air, rubbing the area just above your chest to soothe your breathing. "I'm not staring at him," you glared, clearly caught off guard by his observation, "yeah and I'm Michael Jackson," you rolled your eyes, leaning against the couch, "you're reaching, I was just looking at them dance together," Sunghoon smirked leaning close to your face, "without blinking? Was their dance that admirable?"

You groaned throwing your head back, you could hear Sunghoon chuckling at your misery from beside you, "this isn't the first time I saw you staring pretty..." you turned your head slowly in his direction, he smiled lightly, eyes full of emotions or was it the effect of alcohol he was drinking? "Hm?" He sighed, resting his head at the back of the couch, mimicking you, "I saw how you look at him, at the music room, at his house during our celebration, at the villa, at the beach, the time when he served you dinner," your gaze was fixed on his face as he went on and on about all the times he had watch you fawn over your best friends boyfriend. You couldn't bring yourself to deny all his observations, not when he wasn't looking for your approval anyway, he had observed you and was just stating what he saw.

"Your eyes are so predictable, pretty," He said after he didn't get any response from you and saw you looking away. There was not a single bite in his words, he didn't accuse or blame you for being a bad friend. Your eyes met his again, you couldn't find any sharpness, or any judgement, just softness, like he understood where you were coming from without you having to say anything. Your heart swelled with something you didn't quite understand but felt overwhelmed, "are you always this annoying?" Your words were softer than you intended them to be, and he just smirked, putting his hand on your shoulder, "only when I'm onto something." You sighed but didn't resist his embrace, "you're not onto something, Jay's my best friend's boyfriend." His other hand made its way towards yours to play with your bracelet, "he is, that doesn't mean you wish things were different though." You let me play, eyes lingering on the veins of his hands for a second too long, "I didn't say that," "You didn't have to."

"Where did they go?" Your eyes followed Sunghoon's line of vision, "probably in Ava's room to make out or something," you mumbled quietly but he caught that, "you're not going to sit here and sulk," he said grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours, "no girl gets to stand beside me and feel like a loser, that shit is reserved only for boys." You wanted to say something but decided against it when you couldn't think of anything smart to say. He dragged you towards the dance floor, his hands circling around your waist, he abruptly pulled you close, your hands grabbing his shoulders in response. "Focus on me tonight, who knows, tomorrow you might forget who Jay is."

You rolled your eyes at him, hands now comfortably resting around his neck as both of your bodies swayed with the rhythm of music. The night had stretched on, the music settling to something slow and soft. One of his hands slid up to rest against your back, while the other rested snugly on your waist. His actions pulled your body closer to his, from this distance you could count all the moles that were scattered across his face, the curve of his lashes, the point of his nose, and his lips. You gulped, feeling heat rise up in your body at the proximity. You tried looking away but he held you in place with his gaze. You were sure he could hear your heartbeat from how close you were.

One of his hands lifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he looked at your face for any signs of discomfort, his knuckles grazed your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered close and you leaned into his touch. His breath hitched, taking shallow breaths his hand now cradled your cheek, fully, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. You sighed softly, leaning more into his touch as if leaning felt safer than speaking. You felt him inch closer, your nose barely grazing against his, you could smell him, the faint scent of detergent which lingered on his shirt, his shampoo, and something so achingly Sunghoon. Your breath flattered, syncing with his, for a moment both of you just breathed each other in.

His lips meet yours, softly, no urgency, no rush, like he's taking his time to learn the curve of your lips, a little hesitant, like he was giving you time to back out if you want. It was the kind of kiss that communicated his soft sighs and gasps, one that lingers at the back of your mind even after years. His thumb caressed your cheek, his actions meant less for comforting you and more for anchoring himself and for a moment everything single thought from your mind disappeared. Then his thumb suddenly froze mid-motion, he pulled away slightly, enough to look at your face. "You're crying pretty..." your eyebrows furrowed at his words and you opened your eyes, his thumb caught another tear which fell from your eyes but he didn't press further.

"I'm sorry..." you choked, unable to comprehend the reason behind your tears. You wanted to kiss him, and you did, but you couldn't figure out why the tears started to flow. The hand on your cheek, slid up to the back of your neck and he pulled close. You buried your head at the crook of his neck. "It hurts so bad, hoon." You aren't even sure where it hurts badly, Ava's lie, or watching her living the life you only imagined in your dreams, or the fact that even if Jay knew it was you, it wouldn't have bloomed into something so precious. "Shh, everything will be okay, you don't have to pretend in front of me." His fingers tangled in your hair as he drew soothing circles on your head. You nodded your head, pulling away a little from his embrace and from the corner of your eyes you saw Jay furiously walking down the stairs, his shoulders tense.

"Sunghoon," you pulled away from him and he brushed the remaining of the tears with both of his hands, "Jay." You pointed your finger towards his figure, he shoved people who came into his path, his steps hurried and faze fixed on the main door of Ava's house, "follow him," Sunghoon nudged you in Jay's direction, your face contoured into confusion, "but shouldn't Ava be going after him?" He ran his hand through his hair as he watched Jay near the door, "something tells me he needs you more than he'll need Ava at this moment." You looked at him for a second, letting his words sink deep inside you, after a while you nodded at his direction and turned around to run towards Jay.

Sunghoon watched as your hand slipped away from him, the same hand which he had intertwined with yours a few moments back. He watched it all, the way the tip of your finger slid against his one last time, like sand slipping from his palm, the way your lips trembled when you turn away, the urgency in your steps when you try your best to move through the crowd to reach Jay, and his hand tremble beside him. His other hand lifted up to trace the lingering memory of your lips pressing against it. And when he recalled the way your lips moved against his and how he tasted the salty taste of your tear before catching a sight of it, he wondered if that's what heartbreak tastes like. Like a kiss dipped in honey, ruined by the sting of salt you never meant for him to find.

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witchywithwhiskey · 16 days ago

Text

🍻 beer and bad decisions 🍻

pairing: best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: you've been hooking up with your best friend, steve rogers, and when he walks you home after his birthday celebration, you end up drunkenly making out against your front door—which leads to some reckless decisions.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, pwp, porn with feelings, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, just the tip, drunken kissing that leads to sex (both are clear-headed by the time they get to sex though), consent checks, enthusiastic consent, dry humping, vaginal fingering, thigh riding, nipple play, cockwarming, sex toys, dirty talk, daddy kink, breeding kink, praise kink, brief degradation kink, begging teasing, pet names (sunshine, baby), aftercare, happy ending

word count: 7.3k

a/n: after angsting all week about what i was going to write for steve rogers' birthday, i had a stroke of inspiration yesterday and then i worked on editing this fic today—and i'm getting it posted just in time!! i really, really, really love this fic ☺️ i wanted to do something with 'drunk makeout session' and 'just the tip' and this idea came together so well it actually surprised me! it might be my favorite birthday fic for steve that i've written yet! so i hope y'all enjoy ♡

A cool breeze swept through the dimly lit Brooklyn street, rustling the leaves of the trees lining the sidewalk and chasing away some of the July humidity that clung to the late evening air.

An errant gust brushed along your legs, flirting with the edge of your dress as it swirled around your thighs. It teased you, as if hoping to catch your attention.

But you paid the summery breeze little mind. You had more important things to focus on, like drunkenly making out with your best friend, Steve Rogers, against the front door of the Brooklyn brownstone where you lived.

His big body was curled around yours, his thick, muscled arms feeling like bands of steel as they held you tight to his broad chest. His palms cradled your body, fingers splayed and digging into the bare skin of your back where your dress dipped low.

You could feel his need in every point of contact where he touched you, his hands clinging to you like he was afraid you’d be swept away on the summer breeze if he loosened his hold even a little bit.

The way he held you made you feral, ravenous. You’d never get enough of Steve Rogers, and if he let you go—even for a moment—your body would combust, leaving only ashes and devastation in your wake.

A moan dragged its way up your throat, spilling into Steve’s kiss.

He slipped his tongue past your lips, messily licking the filthy sound from your mouth. His hands slid down your spine, bunching in the sweet sundress clinging to your curves as he hauled you even closer, until there wasn’t any space remaining between you.

Steve’s rumbling groan tasted like beer and bad decisions, and you gulped it down eagerly.

The heady flavor of him went straight to your already hazy mind, making the edges of your mouth curl into a smile, before you met his tongue with your own, kissing him like you were starved for him.

Your fingers trailed up over Steve’s broad shoulders, reveling in the strength hidden just beneath the surface, before diving into his soft, blond hair. You raked your fingers through it greedily, mussing it up the way you’d wanted to all night.

It had been torture to keep your hands to yourself at the bar where all your friends had assembled to celebrate Steve’s birthday, but you and your best friend were still keeping your hookups a secret. You’d both agreed not to tell everyone and risk blowing up the friend group until you knew what you had was real.

It had occurred to you, though, while you’d been playing the part of the dutiful best friend and merely watching as Steve politely shrugged off the attention of other women that you were kidding yourself. What you felt for him was plenty real.

But you weren’t ready to have those thoughts yet, so you’d drowned your feelings in beer and tried to have a good night at your best friend’s birthday party.

Steve didn’t make it easy to not think about him. You caught him staring at you across the crowded bar too many times to count throughout the night, even as his friends tried to get him drunk by buying him birthday beers.

No matter what, though, Steve’s eyes always found you, and when the time came for everyone to go home, he’d insisted on walking you back to your Brooklyn brownstone.

You’d hardly lingered even a moment at your front door before you were kissing your best friend, abandoning the pretense that you didn’t want his kiss more than you needed air.

“Invite me inside, sunshine,” Steve growled against your mouth, his hips grinding the hot, hard length of himself into your belly. “Or I’m gonna fuck you against your front door.”

He sucked your lower lip into his mouth, dragging a whimper from you that had another, feral growl rumbling in his chest.

“Unless you wanna give your neighbors a little show?” he mumbled against your lip, laughter in the warmth of his tone.

You knew he was joking, but you still snorted at his suggestion. Your neighbors weren’t the type to take kindly to such a performance, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t like the idea—you didn’t want anyone else to see that side of Steve Rogers.

He was all for you.

“No way, Rogers,” you shot back, your voice dripping with breathy excitement even as you tried for a teasing tone. “This show’s all mine,” you said, your hand slipping down his chest and palming his cock possessively through his jeans.

Steve’s hips kicked forward, grinding his hardness into your palm. He tried to kiss you, but he let out a groan so tortured, you began to take pity on him.

“You wanna—” you started to say, then you remembered something crucial and a bolt of sense shot down your spine. Your body stiffened in your best friend’s arms.

Immediately, Steve eased back, giving you some space and straightening up so he could catch your eye. You’d known each other a long time, long enough that you could read the question in his blue eyes without him having to voice it.

“I don’t have any condoms,” you explained, your voice filled with anguish. “We used them up last week and I forgot to get more.” Hope made your body thrum as you asked, “Do you have any?”

Your best friend grimaced, his expression one of misery, and all the hope you’d felt a moment ago shattered. Steve’s head dropped, his forehead pressing to yours as he confirmed what you already knew.

“I don’t,” he said. “I meant to pick some up and forgot.”

You hummed in resigned acknowledgement, but even with that knowledge hanging in the air, you couldn’t seem to untangle yourself from Steve’s arms.

Your nails raked idly through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and you breathed in the comforting scent of him—the cologne he always wore and the leather of his jacket.

Steve didn’t pull away either, holding you in his arms while his hands skimmed lightly up and down your back. Eventually, they settled on your waist, his fingers groping lazily at your soft curves.

Without saying anything, your bodies drifted closer together, as if your hearts and hips were magnetized and there was nothing either of you could do to resist the pull.

Steve’s bulge brushed teasingly against your belly, and heat surged through your body, making you suck in a sharp breath as you pressed closer on purpose.

He was so big, his shoulders so broad. His hardness was so hot and thick against your stomach.

You and Steve had been hooking up for a few months—ever since that fateful night when you’d leaned in to kiss him on the cheek after he’d walked you home, and you’d ended up kissing him on the lips.

Even so many weeks later, you weren’t sure if he’d turned his head or you’d somehow missed. Personally, you suspected it was a combination of both, your bodies giving in to the attraction you’d both kept secret for years.

But it didn’t matter, because that accidental kiss had led to more, and the two of you had been hooking up every chance you got ever since.

And that meant you knew all too well how good Steve’s cock felt inside you while he was wearing a condom—and you imagined he probably felt even better bare.

In your opinion, your best friend’s cock was perfect.

He was big and thick and filled you so good, stretching you out to make room for him without hurting you. And if it was that good when he wore a condom, you knew that letting Steve Rogers bury his cock in your cunt without anything between you would be amazing.

It could even be life-changing…

“Y’know there’s plenty we can do without condoms,” Steve said, tearing you from your dangerous thoughts and towing you back into the moment.

His big hands were sliding around to your ass, his fingers digging in so he could hike you up against his thigh, which he pushed between your legs.

“Bet I could get you off without even putting it inside.”

Steve’s smirking mouth found yours and he kissed you deeply, his lips sliding slowly against yours as he guided your hips to rock against him. He knew exactly what he was doing, angling you just right so your pussy dragged against the hard denim of his jeans and the thick muscle beneath.

When your clit bumped against his hip, you tore your mouth from Steve’s with a gasp, but he only let out a low growl and chased after you, drinking down the sound like a starving man.

You moaned your pleasure into your best friend’s mouth, feeling the tantalizing breeze swirling around your bare legs, teasing against the heat between your thighs.

Already, you could feel yourself making a mess of your panties, soaking through the thin fabric to the point that you worried you’d leave a wet spot on Steve’s jeans with how tightly your soft, sodden pussy was pressed against his leg.

You knew Steve was right—he could absolutely make you come just by having you hump his thigh, but it was a special day and that didn’t seem good enough.

“But it’s your birthday,” you whined, pulling back enough to pout up at your best friend, giving him your best pleading, puppy dog look. “I want to give you more than some dry-humping, at least let me give you a birthday bj.”

“Baby,” Steve cooed admonishingly, sending sparks of pleasure dancing in your head. “There’s nothing dry about what I wanna do with you,” he rumbled, his hand sliding down your ass and slipping under your dress, finding the drippy slit between your thighs from behind.

The moment Steve’s fingers brushed against your aching core, you buried your face in his shoulder, muffling the obscene moan that spilled from your lips. Your body flushed hot, your muscles spasming as you tried to hump against his thigh and push back against his fingers at the same time.

Steve was stubborn when he wanted to prove a point, so his fingers pressed deeper, pushing your panties into your drippy, throbbing heat. He rubbed his fingertips along your soaking wet slit, rumbling a sound of deep male satisfaction in his broad chest.

“See, sunshine, you’re already fucking soaked for me,” Steve purred, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “It’d be a shame to let this go to waste.”

Between his fingers rubbing your pussy and his warm breath ghosting over your cheek, your best friend’s touches sent delightful shivers up and down your spine, and it wasn’t long before you were trembling in his arms.

“Besides, it’s my birthday,” he went on, his voice dropping low so it wouldn’t carry on the evening breeze. “Which means you should let me have what I want—and what I want is to rub my cock against your hot, wet pussy until we both come.”

A breathy little laugh escaped your lips, and your shoulders shook under the onslaught of pleasure your best friend was wringing from your body on your front stoop.

It didn’t take much thought to realize Steve was right. It was his birthday, and you wanted to give him exactly what he wanted. But that didn’t mean you had to make it easy for him.

“I guess that’s how it works,” you said, heaving an exaggerated sigh. Leaning back, you caught Steve’s eye and gave him a playful smirk to let him know you were joking, and were gratified to see his gaze sparkling with humor.

Then you did the hardest thing you’d ever done in your life—you extricated yourself from Steve’s arms, pushing his hand out of the way and easing off his thigh before digging in your bag for your keys.

You spun around, grateful Steve still kept his arms looped around your waist since your knees were a little weak, and unlocked the door.

Before you opened it, you cocked your head to the side and turned to Steve, letting your eyes rake over his handsome face as you shot him a flirty smile and murmured, “But just so you know, the offer for a birthday bj is still on the table.”

He chuckled, the sound husky and hot as his hands gripped your hips and he ground his erection into your ass. “Good to know, sunshine—now get this cute butt inside,” he rumbled, pushing you gently through the front door of the brownstone.

You lived on the top floor of the building, which had been converted into apartments, and thankfully, you and Steve knew the way up the stairs well enough that you didn’t have to pay much attention.

Instead, you could focus on more important things, like kissing and groping each other’s bodies, trying to make the other even more feral.

You grinned when you felt Steve’s cock twitch whenever your palm or fingertips brushed against it, drinking down his groans of torture, just like he smirked and greedily devoured your moans when he copped a feel under your dress, cupping your pussy possessively in his big hand and making you clench pitifully around nothing.

At the door to your apartment, Steve barely gave you a chance to unlock it before he was propelling you through it and kicking it closed, reaching back to make sure the lock had latched.

From there, the two of you made quick work of shedding your clothes. Steve helped you drag your dress up over your head, tossing somewhere in the hallway as you stumbled together toward your bedroom.

His shirt joined it a moment later, and you paused in the threshold of your room, admiring the broad shoulders and golden, sun-kissed skin of your best friend’s bare chest. A dim lamp was on beside your bed, and you took a moment just to appreciate the gloriousness of Steve Rogers.

After a slow sweep of his body, the urge to touch him struck again, and you crashed back into your best friend, your mouths fusing together in a fierce kiss while your hands continued exploring.

Your fingers trailed across the breadth of Steve’s shoulders, then down the sculpted planes of his pecs until you reached the little divots demarcating his abs. You loved the layer of softness covering his muscles, and the way his waist tapered down, as if inviting you to his cock.

Steve huffed a shaky laugh, his stomach contracting beneath your touch when your fingertips dug hungrily into his abs, and you felt him smile against your mouth.

With a grin, you suddenly remembered your best friend was ticklish. But before you could exploit that knowledge, he was shucking off his jeans and boxer briefs, letting his cock bounce free, and distracting you entirely from thoughts of torturing him with tickles.

Steve Rogers’ cock was a thing of perfection. You swore it was sculpted by the gods themselves to turn you into a squirming, lustful creature with nothing on your mind besides touching him, stroking him, taking him inside your body.

If you’d been able to speak in that moment, you would’ve blurted that he could take any hole he wanted for his birthday, just so long as he was inside you. But then you remembered what he wanted, and heat suffused your body, gathering between your thighs.

Unable to hold back another moment, you reached for him, your fingers curling around the perfect girth of Steve’s cock. He was long and hard, and you knew from experience that he filled you up perfectly, like his body was made to fit your own.

When you gave him a firm, affectionate stroke with your fist, you wrung a pleasured groan from your best friend, his head tipping back and showing off the long length of his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing just for you.

“Sunshine,” Steve growled, his voice a low, delicious rumble that licked a long line of heat down your spine.

You watched as he gathered himself and reached behind your back.

With a quick twist of his fingers, he undid your bra and yanked it off your body. The garment had barely hit the floor before his hands were on you again, his big palms cupping your tits, fingers plucking at your nipples.

The cool air of your room teased across your bare skin, warring with the heat building in your body, erupting in bursts of pleasure everywhere Steve touched you. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough—you didn’t think you’d ever get enough of him.

So you kissed your best friend harder, your tongue tangling with his as you moaned into his mouth and stroked his cock. His fingers pinched your nipples and pulled, sending sparks of an aching, exciting pleasure through your body, and you mewled loudly, squeezing his cock tight in your fingers.

Steve thrust into your grip, chasing your hand as you pumped his cock in a slow, lazy rhythm. Your mouths slid against each other messily, the kiss devolving as both your moans grew louder.

Steve’s hands skimmed down your sides, grabbing the plush curve of your hips in a delicious squeeze before slipping his fingers under your panties and shoving them down to your feet.

Finally, you were both naked, and you pressed close to him, mindless moans falling from your lips as you felt the heat and solid firmness of his body against yours. It felt so fucking good, you could lose yourself in it.

Steve growled against your mouth, pulling you back into the moment as he muttered, “Get on the bed before I toss you down myself.”

A panting laugh burst from your lips even as a bolt of heat shot straight down your spine. The thought of your best friend manhandling you onto your bed was too good to pass up, so you hooked your free arm around his shoulders.

“Mm, actually I think I’d like to see that, Rogers,” you shot back, an insolent challenge in your tone. To drive your point home, you nipped at his lower lip playfully, satisfied when it had the desired reaction.

With a deliciously deep growl, Steve grabbed the backs of your thighs and tumbled you down onto the bed. Your back landed on the soft blankets, but he didn’t stop there, his hands digging beneath your body and moving you up the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

A delighted, breathy laugh tore from your lips and you wrapped your free hand around the back of Steve’s neck, dragging him in for another messy, filthy kiss. He licked your laughter from your tongue, your hand still pumping his cock while he manhandled you into the position he wanted.

His hands slid down to your legs, grabbing them and pushing your knees up toward your chest, spreading your thighs until they bracketed your breasts. Then he sat back, his cock slipping from your grasp, and stared down at you, a smirk on his flushed face as he admired his work.

You were folded in half, your pussy on full display for your best friend while he loomed above you like a golden god. You were entirely at his mercy, and you couldn’t possibly be happier.

Steve’s blue eyes were bright and shining in the dim light of your room, all remnants of the drunken haze having been burned away by his desire for you. He looked so handsome—his blond hair mussed by your hands, and his eyes burning with lust for you—that it took your breath away.

Your heart thumped in your chest, butterflies whirled in your belly, and you knew right then that Steve Rogers was way more than your best friend. He was…yours.

He was yours and you were his. But what that meant, and how exactly you felt about him, could wait to be unpacked and discussed in the morning.

Still, you suspected Steve had an idea about what you were thinking and feeling by the way his eyes narrowed on you, darkening when they raked over your expression.

He’d been your best friend long enough to know you, and somehow, you were sure he knew exactly how you felt—and he felt the same way.

A shaky smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you stared up at him, feeling just as clear-headed as he looked—if a little drunk on the yearning desire simmering between you.

Steve smiled back at you, his eyes filled with so much affection, it made your heart feel warm and cozy and secure.

“Ready, sunshine?” Steve asked, his words gruff and tentative.

You got the sense he was asking about more than just what you two were about to do. But Steve Rogers was your best friend, and you knew you were safe in his hands. So you nodded, your mouth curving into a beaming smile.

“Ready, Stevie,” you answered sweetly, tilting your hips up and holding your legs spread for him, giving him your pussy the way you’d already given him your heart.

A grin stole across his face and Steve shifted closer, until his cock slid against your pussy, making you whimper while he grunted at the feel of you.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve groaned, staring down at his cock dragging between your slick folds. “You have the prettiest pussy, ya know that?”

His hands stroked down your inner thighs, goose bumps raising in their wake, before settling in the juncture between your legs. Using his thumbs, he pushed his cock deeper into your slit, bullying between your soft, swollen lower lips to drench himself in your dripping desire.

“The prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen in my life.”

His voice was ragged with barely leashed hunger, his blue eyes dark and focused as he stared down at where his cock was splitting your pussy lips open around his thick length. He rolled his hips, fucking against you at a steady, maddeningly slow pace.

“Steve,” you cried in a keening whine, lifting your hips up off the bed to roll against the underside of his cock. Your fingers clawed at the blankets of your bed, desperate to cling to something while he drove you wild.

You could feel every hard ridge and throbbing vein on his shaft, could feel the way the flushed tip bullied your clit as he pushed through your folds over and over and over again. You could feel the way your slick coated his hard length, making him slide more easily against your hot, needy cunt.

“Fuck,” you cursed, your body writhing on the bed. Your lips moved, words spilling from your mouth before you could even think to bite them back. “Oh god, daddy, you feel so good.”

A low, delicious chuckle sounded above you and you cracked your eyes open in time to see Steve flicking his gaze to your face. He wore a crooked grin that only highlighted his flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

“Already calling me daddy, baby?” he teased, leaning down until he was hovering above you, his thumbs still pressing his cock as deep into your slit as it would go without pushing inside your tight hole. “I’m not even inside you—usually you don’t go dumb for me until I’m balls deep in your hot little pussy.”

Steve’s words sent a rush of heat through your body so devastating, your spine arched up off the bed and your eyes rolled back in your head. A loud, throaty, obscene moan wrenched from your lips, and you could feel your cunt clenching pitifully around nothing.

You were so lost in the reaction of your body, your mouth opened and you spoke again without thinking.

“Put it in, Steve,” you panted, still squirming beneath his larger form. With great effort, you opened your eyes and met your best friend’s gaze. “Just the tip, just a little bit. Please.”

At your pleading words, Steve went completely still.

You expected him to shut you down—gently, of course—so you were surprised when you saw the conflict in his eyes.

His mouth twisted with desire, and his gaze turned scorching as he stared down at you. But his brows were pulled together, a divot of uncertainty marring his handsome face.

“Sunshine,” he growled, his voice a deep, delicious rumble as he shifted above you, planting his hands on the mattress on either side of your body so he could lean down close to you.

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he went on.

“I don’t… I genuinely don’t know if I’ll be able to stop,” he confessed, his words rough and blistering, like he’d dragged them from the depths of his soul. “I know how good you feel with a condom—like fucking heaven wrapped around my cock…”

He trailed off, his fingers smoothing over your cheek before trailing down to trace along your lower lip. You stayed still, your breath caught in your throat, mesmerized by the sight of your best friend wrestling with your request for him to fuck you bare.

“If you let me put it in without a condom, even just the tip, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stop myself from pushing all the way in—from pounding into your cunt until I make you come on my cock and fill you up with so much of my seed, you’ll be leaking for the rest of the night.”

Shivers zipped through your body until you were trembling beneath Steve, and you had to close your eyes for a brief moment while you collected your thoughts, which had been scattered across your bedroom floor by his filthy words.

When you blinked your eyes open, you found your best friend—your Steve Rogers—watching you closely, his brows still furrowed with concern. For a moment, you were so thankful that life had led you to him, because you didn’t want to be in this moment with anyone but him.

You knew it was risky to have bare sex. You were on birth control, but you knew there was always the possibility that it failed, which was why you used condoms.

But in that moment, you didn’t care about the risk half as much as you wanted Steve to fuck you bare. And once you allowed yourself to want that, you wanted it so fucking bad.

You wanted Steve to fuck you raw and come inside you, fill you up until his seed spilled over.

Besides, you reasoned with yourself, if the worst happened, you knew your best friend wouldn’t abandon you. You’d never felt safer than in Steve Rogers’ arms, and you knew that if you got pregnant, you’d figure it out together.

So you let a smile curl the corners of your lips and you turned your head, pressing a sweet kiss into the palm of Steve’s hand. He’d been cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek, while he waited patiently for you to make your decision.

You could still smell the faint trace of beer on your breath as you exhaled against Steve’s palm, and you remembered what you’d thought when you were drunkenly making out against your front door—he tasted like beer and bad decisions.

Maybe someone else would say your decision was a bad one, but you didn’t care. It was yours, and it was Steve’s, and you were excited to make it together.

“I trust you, Steve,” you whispered, turning your face back to him. You stared deep into his eyes, showing him the surety of how you felt. Then you let your mouth curve into a playful smile. “What’s a little birthday breeding between friends?”

Steve’s expression was inscrutable for a moment. Then a grin broke across his face like the sun emerging from behind a cloud, and he huffed an amused laugh.

Ducking his head, he stole a kiss from your lips before pulling back to hover above you again.

“You’re ridiculous, sunshine,” he murmured, nothing but affectionate teasing in his tone. He pressed his forehead to yours, and you stayed like that for a moment before he spoke again. “We’ll get the morning after pill tomorrow, yeah? I’ll take care of you—we can watch all those silly movies you like.”

Happiness bubbled up inside you and it spilled out in the form of a goofy laugh, which you silenced by wrapping your arms around Steve’s shoulders and dragging him down for another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter, the two of you savoring each other as the heat between you began to build again.

“You’re the best, Stevie,” you said sweetly on an exhale, your lashes fluttering as your eyes opened. You met Steve’s gaze above you, trying to fight off a flirty smirk as you taunted him. “Now, will you put it in already?”

Steve huffed a surprised laugh, stealing one last kiss before sitting back up on his knees and shooting you a good-natured glare. “Remember, sunshine, it’s my birthday—so be good.”

At the steely, commanding growl in your best friend’s voice, you lost the fight against the smile trying to spread across your face. You grinned up at Steve as you settled back into the pillows on your bed, spreading your thighs wider and using your arms to push your tits together, offering them up for your best friend.

“Yes, sir,” you purred, watching Steve’s gaze rake appreciatively down your body until it fixed on your cunt, where his cock was still wedged between your folds.

Before you could tease him any more, Steve pulled his hips back and pushed forward, dragging the hard length of his cock through your drippy, messy pussy lips.

A moan tumbled from your lips, and your hands found their way to your tits, your fingers pinching your nipples while Steve slid his cock through your slit, coating himself in your slick juices.

He thrust against you a few more times, his pace slow and controlled, driving you wild until you were whining and writhing beneath him, staring up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Please, daddy,” you panted pitifully. “Just the tip.”

Steve’s eyes flicked to yours, so much heat in his gaze that you felt it burning through your entire body and making your cunt pulse between your thighs. His blue eyes darkened as he watched you, a wicked smirk curving his perfect mouth.

“Ya want the tip, baby?” he crooned, his tone patronizing and a little bit mean.

A woeful whimper fell from your lips as you nodded your head eagerly, your eyes opening wide and giving Steve your best pleading look. “Please, Stevie.”

His grin widened, turned wolfish, and it was your only warning. He pulled his hips back until the tip of his cock notched at the entrance of your tight hole, ready to give you exactly what you wanted.

Steve paused there, both of you holding your breath. Your eyes locked with his, a hungry, greedy smile curving your lips to match his grin, and then he was pushing forward.

Your chest heaved with a gasp, your tits bouncing, when the thick head of Steve’s cock slid into your pussy. He breached you slowly, making you feel every bit of your pussy enveloping the tip of his cock in your warmth.

Once he was inside, Steve paused, his eyes sliding closed and his head tipping back. An obscene groan fell from his lips, and it looked like he was having a religious experience.

You understood, because the feeling of having the hot, hard tip of your best friend’s cock inside you bare was searing itself into your mind.

Time stretched on, and it felt like the entire universe was rearranging itself to lengthen the moment, letting you live in it long enough to savor it fully—and then grow restless for more.

Before you could beg your best friend to stuff you full of even more of his cock, Steve pulled back. The tip slipped out of your tight hole, so he was only pressed against your entrance, and it left you feeling so empty you could cry.

A whimper of protest tumbled from your lips and Steve cooed your nickname soothingly as he pushed the head of his cock back into your snug cunt. You moaned your appreciation, your nails digging into his taut forearms while he held himself above you.

“Christ, baby, you feel so fucking good,” Steve groaned, rolling his hips in steady, measured movements so he was fucking you with only the tip of his cock. “Your pussy’s so warm and tight—it feels like you’re sucking me deeper, sunshine, do you want me deeper?”

“Nngh, yes, please,” you cried, your arms hooked around the backs of your knees, keeping your body folded in half because you knew if you let go, you’d drag Steve deeper into your pussy in an instant. “Gimme your cock, daddy, stuff me full—please, Steve, I need it!”

“Then take it, sunshine,” Steve growled, thrusting into you another inch, his eyes closing as he reveled in the feeling of your tight heat wrapping around his cock. “Fuck, so good, baby. You feel so good on my cock.”

“Steve,” you wailed your best friend’s name on a choking sob, pleasure sweeping through your body in dizzying waves. “You’re splitting me open—oh god, it feels so good, daddy, I want it all!”

Steve was burying his cock deeper with every roll of his hips and it felt so scorchingly good. His hot, hard cock was spearing into you, rewriting the very fiber of your being to etch himself into your soul—and you welcomed it happily, eagerly.

“Please, Steve, give it all to me! I need it—I need your cock, please!”

“You want it all, you’ll get it all, baby,” Steve grunted, his hips snapping forward with a vicious thrust. The move pushed his hard length all the way into you, so you were completely connected in the most intimate way possible.

Pleasure surged through your body in a devastating swell, and a scream fell from your lips when Steve finally filled you up to the hilt. His cock was stuffed so deep in your pussy, you could feel his balls nestled against your ass. And it was exactly what you needed.

“Thank you, daddy,” you sobbed in pleasure, your mind scattered in the wind, your hands reaching blindly for your best friend. “That’s s’good—so full, ungh, yes.”

Steve chuckled, leaning down and gathering you up in his arms. His mouth found yours and he kissed you sweetly, sucking on your swollen lower lip before licking inside your mouth. His tongue stroked against yours, wringing a soft moan from you before he pulled back.

“Thank you, sunshine,” he murmured, the warm tone of his voice so drenched in affection it penetrated some of the blissful haze filling your head. “Feeling your precious cunt wrapped around my bare cock is the best birthday gift anyone’s ever given me—you feel like heaven, baby, like you were made just for me.”

“I was, Steve,” you babbled, your heavy-lidded eyes blinking through the fog of pleasure to focus on your best friend. “I was made for you, and you were made for me—you fill me up so good, Stevie.”

Your words dissolved on a whine, your hips writhing beneath Steve’s big body, wordlessly urging him to move and fuck you.

With another sweet kiss that stole your breath, Steve took the hint. His hips pulled back a little, then he rocked into you, his cock splitting you open all over again. He cradled your head in his hands as he rolled his hips, fucking you in deep, firm thrusts.

Your tits bounced against his chest, his warm, taut muscles rubbing the puckered peaks of your nipples, and you arched your spine to get more of that delicious friction. Needing him closer, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, and you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his soft, messy hair.

But it wasn’t enough. You didn’t know if you’d ever get enough of Steve, get close enough. You wanted to be wrapped around him, pressed so tight it felt like you were one.

So you curled your legs around the backs of his thighs, using the leverage to meet his thrusts and drag him deeper into your body until you were nearly fused together. The two of you were little more than tangled limbs and writhing hips, your cunt grinding down on Steve’s cock as he throbbed inside you.

And all the while, your mouths stayed slanted together, even though you were long past being able to kiss.

You tasted beer on Steve’s breath as he panted into your mouth, and you moaned your pleasure right back, smiling wildly when he licked the sound from your lips.

Nothing about this was a bad decision, you decided. It couldn’t be, not when it felt so fucking right.

“Fuck, baby, ‘m getting close,” Steve rasped against your mouth, one of his hands cupping the back of your head. He curled the fingers of his other hand around the curve of your shoulder, holding you in place while he pounded into you. “Tell me what you want, sunshine.”

“Come inside me,” you gasped, tugging on his hair until you could look into your best friend’s eyes. “Breed me, Steve, fill me up over and over until your seed is dripping out of my achy hole.”

Your best friend’s eyes darkened so much they were nearly black, his handsome face twisting with feral hunger as he fucked you harder, rutting deep inside you with his thick, heavy cock.

“You’re such a filthy fucking slut, sunshine,” he growled, staring deep into your eyes, his gaze reverent and wild, “And so fucking perfect.”

His fingers brushed against your cheek with a surprising gentleness, and then he was stretching his arm out, fumbling with the drawer in your bedside table while he held your gaze with his own.

Your heart lurched in your chest when you realized what he was looking for, and your pussy squeezed excitedly around his cock. “Daddy,” you breathed, need dripping from your tone.

The way you sounded made Steve’s lips curve into an arrogant smirk, but he had every right to be arrogant. He knew exactly how to use that perfect cock of his, and he knew that pairing it with the toy in your bedside table would thoroughly ruin you.

“You’ve been such a good girl for daddy, sunshine, I’m gonna make you come so hard,” Steve promised.

He snagged the small, but powerful vibrator from the drawer and brought it toward you. With deft hands, he slipped it down between your bodies, wedging it against your clit and holding it steady while he fucked you.

“I wanna feel your greedy cunt milking all the seed from my balls, baby—gonna fill you up and breed you good.”

Then, Steve pressed the button on the toy and it came to life, sending wickedly strong vibrations straight into your clit.

Sparks danced across your vision and you sucked in a sharp breath, your body careening toward your release at breakneck speed.

Between Steve’s thick, perfect cock filling your cunt and the vibrator pressed to your clit, you never had a chance of holding on to the edge. Your best friend pushed you over and the tension in your body snapped, sending you into free-fall as you came apart on his cock.

A strangled scream tore from your lips and your body clenched hard, your cunt squeezing so tight around Steve’s cock, he grunted loudly.

The flash of his feral grin and the hungry spark in his blue eyes were the last things you saw before your eyes rolled back in your head and you lost yourself in the ecstasy of your release.

Your body convulsed with pleasure beneath Steve’s heavy form, and he groaned his own need, his hips rutting into you as he chased his peak. He found it only a moment later, the vibrations from the toy and the tight squeeze of your throbbing pussy too much for him.

Steve came with a roaring groan, tossing the vibrator onto the blankets before wrapping you up in his thick arms. His hips shoved flush against yours, his cock filling your cunt as it twitched and spilled his seed against your cervix.

You were still gasping for air, the waves of your release crashing through your body. You could feel him throbbing his load into you and you moaned softly, tugging on his hair until his mouth found yours for a messy kiss.

You kissed as your bodies writhed together, eking out every last bit of pleasure from your releases.

Even when you were both spent, Steve’s body slumping down on top of you—as much as he could without crushing you—you kept kissing. You made out for long, languorous moments until your mouths finally slowed to a stop.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you, sunshine,” Steve murmured against your lips, one of his hands cradling the back of your head while the other stroked your thigh soothingly. “You taste so sweet, like sunshine and summer breezes.”

You laughed breathily into your best friend’s mouth, voicing the thought you’d had earlier in the night, when you’d been making out against your front door.

“You taste like beer and bad decisions,” you said, swallowing the grunt of protest from your best friend. “And I love it, Stevie—I never wanna kiss anyone else.”

A slow smile curved the corners of his mouth, pressing his happy grin into your lips, and it wasn’t until he spoke that you realized what you’d said.

“You love it, huh, sunshine?” he teased, rolling onto his side and dragging you with him, hiking your thigh over his hip so his cock didn’t slip from your pussy. “Is that the only thing you love, baby?”

Steve pulled back, giving you a mock serious look, the edges of his lips fluttering as he held back a smile. He looked so devastatingly handsome, his cheeks flushed pink, his blond hair mussed, his blue eyes sparkling with humor and affection.

“It’s my birthday,” he said in an overly serious tone, fighting to keep the stern look on his face. “So you gotta tell me the truth.”

You knew what Steve was asking of you, but you weren’t ready to confess your feelings for him just yet. So you rolled your eyes in an excuse to look away from the all-too-knowing gaze of your best friend, and shook your head at him.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Rogers,” you hissed with little heat, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck and dragging him close. “Besides, your birthday’s probably over by now,” you mumbled against his mouth, nipping playfully at his lower lip.

Steve chuckled, his warm breath ghosting over your skin and making you shiver. His hand slid up your thigh and groped your ass, holding your hips tight against his body, making sure your pussy was keeping his cock warm until he was ready for another round.

“Guess I’ll have to wait until next year to get the truth out of you, huh, sunshine?” Steve asked teasingly, a laugh in the warmth of his tone.

Instead of answering, you slanted your lips to his and kissed your best friend with all the love you had for him.

You felt him take a deep breath, his arms tightening around your body, crushing you to his chest as he kissed you back, showing you he felt the same.

The words and confessions of feelings could come later. For the rest of Steve Rogers’ birthday, you were happy sharing nothing more than beer and bad decisions with him.

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