#nothing wrong with having a beta

[lunarystarry]

You know how people are always fighting which game is better in terms of graphics blablabla "wuwa better" "HSR better" "genshin better" "zzz better"

But brooo

INFINITY NIKKI SOLOS 😝😝😝😝

The designs are so pretty, it's simple but fun and there are no sexualizing characters just pretty girly pops. Granted it's not perfect but honestly when I heard the people who made BOTW are involved in this game I'm like 😆

If you want an aesthetic healing game that doesn't involve wracking your brain and just chilling this is great. (Although if you're a hardcore gamer who likes games that has a complex fighting mechanic, then I don't think this is for you, even tho yes it does have a battle mechanic it's really simple. But it doesn't hurt to give it a try)

Honestly can't wait for it to come out. Here's the trailer

Update:

Um so I take back about the whole no need to wrack your brain part 😭 this game WILL humble you I'm not kidding (it's still fun tho I like me a little challenge)

Momo >>>> every small sidekick character

[estrellami-1]

(hi hello i hope this is okay)

“Good afternoon,” a voice says. A woman, Eddie can tell, even with the way the shop echoes sounds, even with his entire upper half under a car. “I was hoping you could take a look at my car.”

“Of course,” Billy says. Eddie grimaces. He hates Billy, and Wayne definitely doesn’t like him either, but in this podunk town there are precious few people who know cars well enough to work at Wayne’s, and unfortunately, Billy is one of those few. Wayne tolerates him until he screws up big time, then he’s out on his ass. Eddie and Wayne have spoken about it before. In detail.

Well, okay. Maybe Eddie provides most of the details, but its not like he’s wrong.

“It’s just the v-belts,” she continues, breaking Eddie out of his reverie. “I just don’t have what I need at home to fix it.”

Billy chuckles. “Well let me take a look, and I can tell you,” he says. Eddie grits his teeth and peeks out from underneath the car.

Holy fucking shitballs, is his first thought, because this woman is gorgeous. He’s about to float over to her like a damn cartoon character smelling a pie.

He then clocks the look on her face, and oh, she is pissed. Eddie grins maniacally. Billy’s had it coming for a while now.

Eddie slips out from under the car, pokes his head into the office where Wayne’s focused on some paperwork. “Hey, Pops, you might wanna come out here. I think this might be the time Billy finally gets what’s comin’ to him.”

Wayne raises his brows, but does follow Eddie back into the shop, where Billy is popping out from looking at her engine. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart,” he says apologetically. “You were partially right, it was the v-belt, but there’s a couple other things, too. First of all, your spark plugs need to be replaced. Then your battery’s half corroded, so that’ll need replacing, too. And lastly, the bearings in your alternator are worn out. That’s a bigger job, too, so you’ll need to leave you car here for the next couple of hours.”

She raises her brow. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart,” she says back, bitchy and perfect. “I replaced the spark plugs last month, so I know those are still good. Strike one. My battery is not corroded, I can see that from here. Strike two. You didn’t turn my car on and you can’t see the alternator bearings without removing and opening the alternator, so you have no way of knowing if they’re worn out or not. Strike three.” She puts her hands on her hips, juts a hip out. “Now, do you wanna try to lie to me again, or are you gonna do what I told you needed to happen in the first place?”

“Actually,” Wayne says, “if I’m not mistaken, three strikes means you’re out, Hargrove.” He crosses his arms when Billy looks over, nods toward the door. “You’re fired. I’ll send your last check on Monday. Get the hell out of here.” He turns to Eddie. “You got time to take care of that belt?”

“Sure do,” Eddie grins, bouncing up to the woman with a grin. “I’ve half a mind to start applauding you,” he confides in a theater whisper. “We’ve been trying to fire him for ages, now, but no one’s ever caught him in the act. I think you’re actually my savior now.”

She blushes and giggles, and Eddie does his best not to swoon. “Well, it’s not that hard when you know what you’re looking for. I really just didn’t have the tools at home to do that repair myself, otherwise I would’ve.”

“I’ve got no doubt,” Eddie grins. “But hey, we’ve suddenly got an opening here in the shop, if you’re looking for a job.” He winks. “I know Wayne can look like a sourpuss, but I promise he’s a marshmallow on the inside. He’ll love ya instantly.” He chuckles, “hell, he probably loves ya already, since y’gave him reason to fire Billy.”

She laughs, extends a hand. He raises his, showing her the grease on his hands. She rolls her eyes and grabs his hand to shake anyways. “Stephanie Harrington.”

“Eddie Munson,” he grins, bowing. “Wayne’s nephew.”

Stephanie giggles again. “And theater kid?”

Eddie tilts his head side to side with a considering look. “I may have dabbled,” he allows, grinning when she does.

“I’m kinda a package deal, when it comes to work,” she admits. “Tell me, does your uncle need someone to handle phone calls and paperwork?”

“Stephanie Harrington, Wayne will actually adopt you. He hates all of that and I’m terrible at it. When can you start?”

Stephanie laughs. “How about you fix my car and we’ll go from there?”

He considers her: sensible slacks and shoes, a nicer shirt than anything Eddie owns, one hand dirty from shaking his. “How about we fix your car together?”

Stephanie raises her eyebrows. “Is that allowed?”

“Eh,” Eddie shrugs, winking, “I’m the owner’s nephew, I think I get a free pass.”

“Well,” she says, this time bitchy and teasing, and Jesus Christ, could she get any more perfect? “I guess there’s no use arguing with the owner’s nephew.” She looks around, snags a nearby towel and tosses one end over her shoulder with a grin. “Let’s get started.”

They finish quickly, just over half an hour, and Eddie grins at her as she slams the hood shut. “I think we make a good team,” she says. “But we’ve gotta test it, right? Go for a drive, make sure it’s all working correctly?”

Eddie grins, shoves his knuckles against his lips, quickly regrets it when he tastes oil. “Fuck,” he mutters, making a face. “Well, if that didn’t completely change your mind, or at least what I was hoping you were saying, I know an ice cream place just a little ways down the road?”

Stephanie laughs, tosses the rag in his face. “Wipe your face. Ice cream is exactly what I was thinking.” She hops in the car, turns it on. Stares expectantly at Eddie.

He comes to life suddenly, jumping and holding a finger up, asking her to wait, before sprinting to the office. “Wayne,” he says, “we’re going to get ice cream, she may have solved all our problems, actually, and I’m gonna marry her one day.”

Wayne snorts. “She know that?”

“Everything except the marriage bit, but she will one day. Bye Wayne!” He runs back out the door and slides into her car. “Onward!” He announces, pointing, then blinks when he points at the garage wall. “Uh… I mean backward!”

She snorts, shifts into reverse. Puts a practiced hand on his headrest. “You’re such a dork.” She’s smiling, though, so Eddie doesn’t worry about it, just grins, happy with the ability to make her laugh. 

She does, ultimately, accept the position at the garage, as long as Wayne and Eddie let her bitch at men who think they know better than her. Wayne readily agrees and Eddie actively encourages it. Robin comes on as their secretary, so Wayne can move back into the garage full-time. 

Very quickly after that, Stephanie and Eddie officially start dating.

Not too long after that, he’s standing at an altar, watching her walk down the aisle towards him.

Mechanic!Eddie fully thriving as he watches Stevie eviscerate one of his fellow mechanics for thinking she can be ripped off.

That's his future wife right there.

She dont know it yet

But that's her.

[mossmx]

here it is

the bane of my existence

my personal crusade with the English language

asdfghjkhgaflkkhgklaf

[sttoru]

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

[aurorawritestoescape]

BE MY GUEST

No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: working as a hotel housekeeper, you meet a handsome guest under quite unexpected circumstances. An awkward conversation leads to a friendly relationship that grows into something none of you expects.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, lots of fluff, a bit of angst, age gap (the size is up to you, Joel is in his late 30s-early 40s, reader is younger), Sarah is alive (7 y.o), pining, strangers to friends to lovers, soft Joel, insecure reader, accidental flashing, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv, creampie, m/f masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, aftercare, phone/video sex, pet names, swearing. Joel can lift reader. Reader wears a uniform dress.

Word count: 12k

A/n: I’m finally posting this story and I’m sooo excited. It took me a lot of time, I love these two very much and I hope you all will like them, too. It’s written for @yxtkiwiyxt ‘s Never Have I Ever Challenge. My prompt was ’never have i ever booked a hotel room just to go have sex‘. Thank you for the fun event, Kiwi!💞 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and supporting me through the journey aka writing this fic lol ILY❤️ Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

“Housekeeping!” you announced yourself loudly when you came up to room 605. Following the protocol, you’d knocked three times before that, waited for two minutes and the silence was your invitation to enter. You rolled your housekeeping cart closer to the door and opened it with your master key.

When you walked through a short hall and into the living area, you expected to find anything. Having worked as a hotel housekeeper for only a year, you’d already seen your fair share of messy beds, spilled drinks, broken furniture, completely trashed rooms, so nothing could surprise you.

Nothing except for a man lying naked in bed with his cock out. Even a glance was enough to realize that he was busy stroking himself, a mobile phone in hand.

Everything happened lightning fast— you gasped, hands clasped over your mouth — the man cursed and hastily covered himself with a sheet — you squeaked a timid ’sorry’ and ran out of the room.

A string of curses was leaving your mouth as you were hurrying away from room 605, pushing the heavy cart in front of you.

***

Minutes later you were in the staff locker room, panting, sweaty palms pressed to your chest, your heart racing.

‘Why?’ You were asking yourself, ’why didn’t he hear you announce yourself and knock?’‘ First, you thought that he wanted you to see him— during your time working in the hotel you’d met a few creeps, but that man seemed genuinely shocked, when you appeared in his room, and embarrassed when your eyes landed on his exposed member.

He must have been wearing headphones. Probably. Hopefully. For some reason you didn’t want him to be a perv. He was too handsome, too hot. And his cock was… ahhh it was amazing— long and thick, fat tip angry red and glistening in the bright light of the sun. He must have been close to coming.

Your eyes were still widened, hands shaking, but your lips curved into a little smile, thinking about him, a heat rising in your belly. You started bringing any detail you could to mind - his dark disheveled hair - he’d probably just woken up, his naked chest, broad and strong, a happy trail on his tummy, the big hand, wrapped around his —

”Hey, babe!”

You jumped, scared to death, your heart, that was slowing down after the incident, was pounding again.

“Hi, Max,” you breathed out, greeting your colleague and friend who’d just entered the room. She was your age, funny, kind and extremely nosy.

You turned to the lockers, away from her, embarrassed by the tingling between your legs, but also worried that she’d notice your flustered face.

”What’s wrong?”

Fuck!

“Nothing,” you lied, trying to calm down. Silence filled the room. When you glanced back at Max, she was staring at you, her eyes narrowed. Obviously, she wasn’t buying it.

“Ok. I’ll tell you,” you sighed, reluctant to talk about it at first, but Max was always reliable and loyal so you thought ‘why the hell not’ and started talking, “Something happened.”

“Yeah?” She immediately lit up, anticipating something juicy.

“I was working on the 6th floor and I entered this room and — shit— I saw a man, you know, naked and —“

Max opened her mouth exaggeratingly wide and was waiting for you to go on.

“That man — he was ehm— watching something on his phone and —you know?”

You were trying to find the right words, but Max was not the one to beat around the bush.

“Jacking off?!”

“Shhh, Max!” you hissed, raising your hands, begging her to speak quieter with your pleading eyes. “What if Ms Hewitt hears?!”

“Ms Hewitt hears what?”

You wanted to drop dead at that moment. Your heart plummeted into your stomach when the housekeeping supervisor, a tall blond middle aged woman, appeared behind you.

“Ehm, nothing,” you replied with a fake smile.

Ms Hewitt looked you up and down as she always did, checking if everything was perfect in her staff’s attire, then her eyes focused on your face. Her piercing gaze was enough for you to crumble, especially when she said,

“Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.”

You had never been a good liar so you took a deep breath and decided to come clean. You were sure that you’d done nothing wrong but anxiety was still churning your stomach.

You cleared your throat and started talking a mile a minute as if it would make it sound less bad.

“I was on the 6th, was about to clean the 605, and I knocked three times, waited for two minutes. No one answered so I opened the door. I announced myself! I did everything by the book, I swear, but somehow the guest didn’t hear me and he was naked in bed and… and…”

Max’s high pitched ‘jacking off’ almost flew out of your mouth but you shut it just in time.

Miss Hewitt's poker face didn’t reveal anything for a few long seconds until she pushed,

”And?”

You shifted on your feet nervously, cleared your throat and exhaled,

“He was pleasuring himself.”

Max burst into giggles, you flinched and quickly made big eyes at her. She clamped her palm over her mouth and shook her head, apologising with her eyes.

Ms Hewitt was less entertained by your story. She kept looking at you with the same expression and you felt like time had stopped.

“Ms Harmon, don’t you have the 3rd floor today?“ the woman asked Max sternly.

Your friend mumbled a disappointed ‘yes, ma’am’ and dragged herself out of the room.

When you two were left alone, Ms Hewitt’s face softened, and she asked you with her voice lowered. “Was he inappropriate with you, honey?”

“Oh, no-no-no! No!” you hurried to assure her, “he was embarrassed— said sorry. I apologised too and ran out. It was just an accident. Maybe he was wearing headphones or something,” you added fumbling with your fingers. “I’m sure he didn’t want it to happen.”

The supervisor was slowly nodding, listening to you.

For a few moments she was standing there in thought until she spoke.

“I suppose you should talk to him and apologise.”

Your jaw hit the floor.

“What? Talk to him? Why? I did nothing wrong!”

“Yes, probably, but if he feels like you did, he might go to the manager and tell him that you committed an invasion of privacy. And what does Mr Stewart always say? ‘A guest is always right.’ You’d be fired in a second.”

You shook your head.

“I don’t think he’ll complain.”

“Why?” Ms Hewitt’s brows shot up. “Has seeing his penis given you an understanding of his whole personality? We don’t know that person. I don’t want you to lose your job over an accident. If you want I’ll go with you.”

Now you were completely terrified.

“Oh no, no, it’ll be even more awkward.”

“Ok, but tell me how it goes,” the woman said on her way to the door, then stopped and added. “Do it today.”

When she left, you plopped on the bench and stared at your palms. How could you talk to him? After what you’d seen. After what you’d felt. You hoped that he was the man you thought him to be and prayed he wouldn’t make it hard for you. Hard, you murmured and hid your smiling face behind your hands.

You knocked on Joel Miller’s hotel door a few hours later, making sure that the sound was loud enough. Your throat dried up and you cursed under your breath, praying that you wouldn’t have to talk for too long.

To prepare for the conversation l, you had asked for the guest’s name at the reception and learnt that he had booked the room for a week.

Mr Miller opened the door fully clothed this time. He was wearing a white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants. You noticed that he swallowed loudly when he saw you and his expression showed

that he definitely recognised you.

“Mr Miller, can we talk? It’ll take a few minutes.”

“Oh, of course, come in.” He gave you a little smile and stepped aside, letting you enter. You walked into the room and he followed you.

He stopped a few steps away, giving you enough personal space, and you were grateful— it was easier to talk that way.

You dropped your eyes to the floor at his bare feet and said the speech you’d rehearsed a hundred times by now.

”I’d like to apologise for what happened earlier. I assure you, it won’t happen again. I’ll knock harder and announce myself louder next time.”

“Oh no, no, it was my fault,” he said hurriedly and you looked up at the man. He was rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks blushed. It seemed that he was embarrassed just like you and it made you feel better.

“I had an earbud in my right ear,” Mr Miller began explaining. “Noise cancelling.. damnit,” he mumbled under his breath. ”And my left ear is really bad…a work accident. That’s why I didn’t hear you.”

You were glad that your theory turned out to be right and sighed with relief.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It must’ve been horrible to see…damn, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s ok.”

That ‘sweetheart’ made you tingle all over and you smiled to yourself, thinking that it wasn’t a horrible sight at all.

“It was an accident. I’m glad that you’re not angry at me, sir.”

“Angry? Of course, not. I’m embarrassed and very sorry for what you had to see and — wait, please.”

Mr Miller walked to the nightstand and bent over to grab something. Your eyes immediately slid from his broad muscular back, straining his tee, to his ass, looking absolutely sinful in those sweatpants. His body made you feel hot all over again. You quickly snapped your eyes back to his face when he turned to you.

"Oh no, Mr Miller, you don't have to—.”

You shook your head, having noticed a wallet in his hands.

"I insist.”

He walked up to you and pulled a few bills out. He stopped in front of you, leaned closer, took your hand and placed the cash into your palm.

"I'm really sorry."

You felt the warmth of his skin against yours, his smile was warm and timid, and it was a fleeting moment, but the time seemed to feeeze for you. You drowned in his honey eyes, his gruff voice reached the deepest parts of you and a scorching fire licked at your core. Your chest swelled with a feeling so overwhelming and strong that it almost knocked you off your feet.

Trying to hide the tornado inside you, you lowered your eyes and glanced at his hand, so big in comparison to yours. Suddenly, an image of Mr Miller's palm wrapped around his cock flashed in your mind. Your breath hitched, you pulled your hand away, squeaked "Thank you, sir” and rushed to the door on shaky legs.

“No, thank you for your work. And call me Joel. Please. If it’s ok with you,” he added, following you.

”Yes, of course, Mr M—- Joel.”

He smiled widely, when you called him that, and trying not to scream at how handsome he was, you opened the door.

“Oh,” you stopped and turned to him again. “I’ll ask them not to assign me to this floor anymore. So you don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Hey, no, please.” Joel raised his hands and shook his head. “I don’t mind seeing you again. I— I’d love to, actually. And I promise to be clothed next time we meet.”

You laughed with him gleefully and said ‘goodbye’. Walking through the hallway with a giddy smile on your face, you thought that you’d love to see him again, too. Clothed or not.

You told Ms Hewitt about your conversation with Mr Miller and she seemed satisfied with the way you handled the situation.

All day you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel — he had been so charming, so apologetic and kind to you, that the awkwardness of the morning incident faded out of your heart, and all that remained was a bright, exciting feeling of meeting someone wonderful, someone you wished to get to know better.

Yet not only your heart and mind were occupied by your accidental acquaintance. You felt tingling between your legs every time you remembered Joel’s body, a scorching fire igniting your core.

***

When you came home in the evening and went to take a shower to wash the tiring day off, you found yourself fantasising about the guest in room 605. In your mind the rivulets of water turned into Joel’s strong arms, snaking around your body. You closed your eyes and imagined him standing behind you, naked and gorgeous, just like you’d seen him in the morning. The vision was bright and vivid behind your eyelids, and a needy moan escaped your parted lips.

You could finally quench your thirst. Your hand slid from your neck to your chest, down to your belly and when it reached your mound, you gently massaged your wet folds, envisioning that it was Joel touching you, his fingers were tracing your seam and then pushing inside. In your mind his pads began rubbing your hardened clit, he was the one twitching and pulling your pebbled nipples, and your needy whimpers and moans reverberated in the small bathroom. Joel praised you for your lustful serenade, whispering into your ear,

“Yes, sweetheart, need you to be loud for me. Show me how much you’re enjoying it.”

You were imagining his hard cock push and slide between your thighs, slippery and hot, hotter than the water running down your body.

“Ahhh, Joel,” you whined, as an upcoming climax was licking at your body. Edged by your memories of Joel during the day, it was craving a release. You heard Joel’s gruff ‘sweetheart’ in your ears and came hard, shaking on your trembling legs, holding onto the cold tile wall, trying not to collapse.

Before going to bed you thought of the handsome guest again, wishing to see him in your dreams, to talk to him, to touch him, but your mind didn’t give you that chance, and you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Without any effort on your part, you began seeing Joel often. When you two ran into each other in the hallway, he always gave you a warm smile and your heart skipped a beat every time you heard his ‘Mornin’, sweetheart.”

You were good at your job, but when you worked in Joel’s room, you tried to do everything perfectly. You wanted to make his stay as pleasant as possible and dreamed that he would think fondly of you. Every day you left him more shampoo and conditioner bottles than one man could need in a week and put a little flower on top of his fresh towels.

He seemingly felt your care because every day he would leave you a tip. It was nice but you never needed any money from him - the fact that he thought about you was enough.

You had never snooped around guests’ belongings, it was going against your principles, as well as a big no-no in any hotel, but whenever Joel left anything in the open - on the nightstand or on the desk, you meticulously studied ‘the thing’, not touching it but simply looking, eager to get any information about the man.

Once on his desk you saw a flyer that said ‘Small Business Contracting Expo’. He must be a contractor, you thought. You sighed dreamily, standing in the middle of his room with a turned on vacuum in hand. You found his job incredibly sexy.

But not all the discoveries were pleasant. One day you noticed something that upset you. It was a photo, lying on the nightstand - a Polaroid of him with a 6 or 7 year old girl. She was very pretty and had a beautiful smile. His smile.

‘He has a daughter. He’s married,’ you thought and your heart dropped. Of course. How could such a handsome and sweet man be single? That moment you shared… He was just friendly and your head was full of stupid fantasies.

All the rules and regulations forgotten, you plopped on his bed and tears flowed down your cheeks as you were staring at the photo of the happy family man.

The next day you were in the hallway, rummaging your cart for the right cleaning detergent, when you saw Joel exiting his room. He was wearing a leather jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans. At first, your eyes feasted on the sight of his strong back, straining the shiny leather, and you bit your lip, admiring his broad frame, but then you remembered the photo you’d seen on his nightstand - happy Joel with his little daughter. You hastily averted your eyes from the guest — you’d never be a homewrecker.

Not that you had any plans to win his heart but in your mind Joel had been single and it was fine to daydream about him, yet after seeing the Polaroid, your dreams had been crushed by reality like a glass butterfly by a hammer.

Avoiding Joel, you quickly crouched behind your cart, hoping he wouldn’t see you and his warm ‘sweetheart‘ wouldn’t cut your heart like a blade.

You were cleaning off a non-existent spot on your shoe when you heard a soft ’Hey there’ over your head.

“Are you hiding from me?” Joel chuckled as you sprung up on your feet, your heart racing in your chest.

“No,” you lied with a nervous giggle. “I was just looking for —ehm.” You shoved your hand into the cart and retreated the first thing you touched— a roll of toilet paper. “This. For the room.”

“Yeah, ok.” Joel was standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his jeans pocket, and his lopsided smile and a twinkle in his eye told you that he wasn’t buying it.

Then he raised his hands a little, palms towards you.

“I hope I don’t weird you out. You know? Because of… the way we met.”

Your breath hitched when he said that but you tried to keep your cool.

“No. I was really just looking for the paper.”

“Ok,” he mumbled, rubbing his scruffy beard. ”I’m heading out and I need help.”

“Yeah?” You were lost in beautiful eyes for a second and then your gaze slid down to his thick neck, his strong arms, covered by the leather. You locked eyes with him again - beautiful and deep they seemed to stare right into your soul, bringing you comfort and torment at the same time.

“What do you think?”

Fuck! You got completely mesmerized by Joel while he was talking and asked you for help. Help with what?! You had no damn idea.

“I’m sorry, could you say it again? I got lost in thought for a second.”

“Yeah, I see”, Joel smirked, a playful joy glinting in his irises, but kindly repeated himself.

“I need a gift for my daughter. I promised her a souvenir from the trip. Do you know any nice stores nearby? I don’t think she’d like a magnet from the hotel shop.”

“Yes, daughter,” you uttered, your face falling at the reminder of your discovery. Trying to hide sadness in your quiet voice, you asked,

“How old is she?”

“7.”

You thought for a few seconds and smiled when an idea came to you.

“There’s a store on the opposite side of the street. It’s next to a bank, you’ll see it right away. They sell these super cute handmade plushies. They’re adorable!”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up as he nodded.

“Yes! She loves plushies.”

“Oh, and they have all kinds of pretty stationery there too. Kids love that, right?” you asked with a little smile.

Joel took a step closer to you and put his warm palm over your hand, which was resting on the cart.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll be the world’s best dad when I get home.”

“I’m sure you already are,” you said quietly and dropped your head, your heart heavy.

“Are you ok?” You heard Joel’s lowered voice.

You looked up at him and lied.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

***

The next day you hoped not to see him at all. Your feelings were cruelly scratching at your chest, making your smile fake, your work day longer. Every minute felt like hours, and to make matters worse you started plucking at your own soul. You were single and lonely, saving up for college and dreaming of a career you probably would never achieve. Why would you want something if all you got at the end was disappointment?

Usually cleaning helped you to put your mind and heart at ease, to organize the thoughts swirling in your head like a bunch of stinging bees, but not that day. That day you wanted to dump all your hopes and dreams in one giant pile and set the useless trash on fire.

***

You decided to skip Joel’s room that day and was on your way to the neighbouring one when his head popped out of the door and he called for you.

”I thought I heard your cart. Sorry, can we talk, sweetheart?”

You smiled weakly at the pet name, and walked up to his room.

Joel motioned for you to step inside and you followed him. He was wearing a white Henley and jeans and you couldn’t help but ogle him. So stupid of you to think that a man like that was available. Especially for you.

Involuntarily you took a deep breath of his scent that was filling the room, piney and fresh with something so him. You felt at ease right away. He was almost a stranger and an emptiness inside was swallowing you bit by bit but his presence made you calm and relaxed.

“Look what I got for Sarah.”

Joel grabbed a toy sitting on his pillow - a cute fluffy bunny, wearing blue overalls, and brought it to you.

“I think she’ll like him.”

“I’m sure she will,” you assured him, petting the plushie, before giving it back to him. It was soft and pretty.

“And I bought her a bunch of pens and stickers and stuff. Thank you so much for your advice. Oh, and..”

Joel walked to the drawer and pulled something out.

“This one’s for you. A little thank you gift for your help.”

He was handing you a cute plushie cat, fluffy just like the bunny. “Had to hide it in case you’d come to my room.”

“You didn’t have to,” you said, accepting the present with a smile.

“I wanted to. Thought about you when I saw it.”

“Why?” you giggled.

“I don’t know. It’s beautiful and you’re—.” A slight blush appeared on Joel’s cheeks and he cleared his throat before adding, “Jus’ thought you might like it.”

“I love it.”

You didn’t lie. His gesture was so sweet that you had to take a deep breath, fighting an urge to cry.

“You’re a great father, Joel,” you said with a shaky voice, your eyes set on the toy, and then added,

“And I’m sure a wonderful husband.”

The words escaped your mouth before you could stop them. It seemed that the despair you’d been carrying in your soul made you bolder, more numb. It was easier to talk to him when all your feelings for the man lost a taste of sweet hope, leaving only bitterness.

“Thank you,” Joel uttered, placing the bunny back on the bed, ”but it’s just me and Sarah.”

Your eyes snapped back at him, and you stared at him in surprise. Your chest swelled with hope and joy. That man was single, but now it sounded almost impossible in your head. How could he be single?

Joel was completely oblivious to a whirlwind of thoughts inside your mind and kept talking,

“Well… there’s also my younger brother, Tommy. She’s staying with him now. Frankly, I’m not sure who’s looking after who,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

You laughed, maybe a little too loudly and too happily, but it was hard to keep your emotions contained.

“I'm sure they’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“Yeah. I call them every day and they haven’t burnt the house down yet — so — it’s great.”

You giggled and Joel seemed to notice your sudden mood uplift. His eyes narrowed as he asked,

“What about you? Husband, boyfriend?”

You bit your lower lip, hiding a smile that would be too revealing of your feelings - his interest flattered you greatly.

“No, none of those.”

Joel hummed and unlike you, didn’t hide his smile.

Your eyes connected and something electric appeared between you two. It started hard to breathe and the tingling warmth spread all over your body. Joel’s gaze slid from your eyes to your lips and you took a sharp breath, scared of the strength of your feelings. Panicking, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind,

“Where are you from?”

As if having forgotten where he was, Joel looked around the hotel room and cleared his throat before replying,

“Austin, Texas.”

You felt flustered by the moment you two had shared, your legs felt like they were made of cotton.

Joel noticed you shifting on your feet and offered you to sit down. You chose to take a chair at his desk, as sitting next to him on the bed could be inappropriate.

“Are you on business here?” you asked, trying not to think about the last time you had seen him on that bed.

“That’s right, ma’am,” Joel bowed his head with a smile and the gesture made your heart flutter. “Tommy and I are starting our own company,” he continued. “Contracting. Very small for now. There's a big expo here this week so we thought it’d be useful to meet people, do some networkin’.” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose and gruffed, “if that’s what it’s called. I’m still learning all the business lingo.”

In spite of the visible self-doubt, Joel’s eyes were glinting with excitement when he was talking about their plans. Then he leaned forward, placed his elbows on the knees, and asked,

“What about you? Do you like working here?”

His soft baritone was caressing your ears and sending heat to your core. His piercing eyes set on you weren’t helping either so you took a deep breath to calm down and replied,

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m saving up to go to a law school. Next year I hope.”

As you were sharing your plans with him, Joel was listening to you attentively, nodding and asking questions from time to time. It was easy to open up to him and the conversation flowed smoothly until you heard someone talk in the hallway and remembered that you were supposed to be working.

“Oh my God, Joel, I’m sorry I need to go.”

You got up, pressing the plushie cat close to your chest, and headed to the door.

“I hope you're not gonna get in trouble because of me,” Joel said, following you. “Some old man lured you into his room…”

You opened the door and walked to your cart, giggling, and then turned to him, smiling widely.

“You’re not old. And you can lure me anywhere anytime.”

Joel scratched his bearded chin, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

“Goodbye, Joel,” you purred, and feeling bold, gave him a playful wink.

“See you, sweetheart.”

You felt his eyes on your back and - hopefully - on your ass as you sauntered to another room as gracefully as you could, pushing your cart forward with the cutest plushie cat, sitting on top of it.

***

It was difficult for you to fall asleep that night. You were tossing and turning, hugging the kitty Joel had gifted you and thinking about his smile, his eyes, his hands, his body, his voice. You kept replaying your conversation over and over, your face aching after smiling so much. You were used to the constant tingling between your legs when Joel was on your mind and it wasn’t surprising - he was a handsome man, big and strong, but what stole your sleep that night was the feeling in your stomach. Something warm filled your belly, it was pushing up against your lungs, stealing your breaths away again and again. The sensation was so encapsulating, so pleasant and exciting that you had no doubt what it was. You fell in love with Joel. You fell in love with a guest.

***

The next day you were assigned to a different floor, but your head was full of Joel Miller. You were yawning because of the lack of sleep the previous night and yearning for the culprit of your insomnia. You wondered if he thought about you, too, if he liked you, if he wanted you. An idea to visit him popped into your head but you brushed it off, not wanting to impose and still feeling a little insecure. What if the spark you felt was one sided? What if it all was only in your head?

You were scheduled to work on the sixth floor the next day, so you were looking forward to seeing him soon.

That day everything went wrong. You overslept, probably because you managed to close your eyes only at 4 am, love-induced insomnia to blame again. On top of that, the traffic was horrible, so you missed the morning briefing.

Ms Hewitt looked at you sternly when you came to her office to get your assignments for the day but your genuine apologies and sorry puppy eyes softened her and she gave you all the info you needed.

“Oh, and it’s final cleaning for the 605.”

“What?!” Your heart plummeted into your stomach when you heard the number of the room. Joel’s room.

Trying but absolutely failing to hide your shock you squeaked,

“He—they‘re checking out today?��

“Yes,” Ms Hewitt's puzzled expression told you that the panic in your eyes was evident. She put her hand on your shoulder and asked,

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart

Sweetheart

Sweetheart

The pet name was ringing in your ears but it sounded like Joel. A scary thought flashed in your mind, ‘Will I ever hear it again?‘

”What time is it?” You exclaimed.

Ms Hewitt’s brows shot up, before she glanced at her watch.

“Ehm. 10:45.”

“Oh god! I need to go— to clean!”

You excused yourself hurriedly and ran to the elevator.

***

A minute later you were at room 605, knocking loudly. No reply. You didn’t stop, remembering Joel’s hearing problem, but there were no heavy footsteps of the man you so foolishly fell in love with. The realization pierced your heart - he was gone, he was gone forever.

Breaking all the rules you opened the door with your card and went inside.

“Joel!” you called, desperation loud in your voice.

He didn’t reply.

It felt empty, lifeless. Just another standard hotel room. The biggest sign that he had even been there was his scent, still lingering in the air.

You took a deep breath of him and tears welled up in your eyes. Your loud sob shuttered the deafening silence.

“Joel,” you mewled helplessly.

There was something on the bed. You walked there and saw a note with your name on it. You lifted it with shaky hands and started reading.

Sweetheart, I hope you’ll get this note. I couldn’t find you but I’d like to thank you for everything. Meeting you was a highlight of my trip. I hope all your dreams come true. And sorry again for the way we met. Joel

On the bed there was also a big tip and a bouquet of red roses.

Your chest swelled with a myriad of different emotions - it was nice of him to leave you a message and the flowers but it was a goodbye. A farewell forever.

A tear fell on the note in your hands. You wiped it off and smudged the writing, leaving a blue streak.

He wrote it not so long ago. What if you could still catch him?

You dropped the note and ran out of the room. Pressing the elevator button several times with a rushed hand, wiping your tears with the other, you were praying to all the gods to let you see him at least one more time, to hear his husky voice, to feel his warm eyes on you.

Joel—Joel—Joel

His name was booming in your head and your heart on your way downstairs.

On the first floor, not wanting to alarm the guests and other personnel, you walked fast to the reception.

“Birtie, hi, could you tell me when Joel Miller checked out? Please,” you asked the receptionist who furrowed his brows at you, having noticed your teary eyes.

You didn’t care about his concern, your gaze was glued to the entrance. Through the glass door you saw him.

Joel was standing outside, his back to you, his suitcase at his feet.

“Is everything ok?” You barely heard Bertie, your heart was making somersaults in your chest. He’s still here!

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but a wide smile wouldn’t leave your face as you hurried to your most precious guest.

***

“Joel?” you called softly, standing behind him.

He turned to you and his face lit up. All of a sudden he hugged you and you stopped breathing altogether. Feeling his body so close to yours made your head spin. To your dismay, Joel pulled away in a moment and took a step back.

“Fuck. Sorry. I thought you weren’t here today. But you’re and … I’m glad to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you, too,” you smiled at Joel, still feeling his strong arms around you. “I’ve just found your note and came here to say goodbye and— .”

“Yes?” Joel’s puppy eyes were darting between yours as you paused with your mouth open.

What now? Are you going to shake his hand and let him disappear from your life? The thought made you feel sick.

“There’s a problem. With your room. I’m afraid you have to go back up with me.”

Joel furrowed his brows, looking confused.

“What problem?”

Yeah, what problem?

“Ehm.. Can we talk in your room, sir?”

You added ’sir‘ to sound more formal so he wouldn’t think that you were making shit up.

“Of course. No problem. I have lots of time.”

Joel grabbed his suitcase and followed you inside.

You felt Bertie’s eyes on you as you were walking past the reception with the guest who had already checked out but you didn’t care.

When you stepped into the elevator, Joel turned to you.

“What’s wrong with the room, sweetheart? Tell me you didn’t get in trouble because of my note or the roses.”

“Oh, no,” you replied, nervously fumbling with your sleeve. “It’s— ehm—-it’s the hangers. Some are missing.”

“The hangers?”

“Yep.” You averted your eyes, feeling your heart in your throat. You could feel Joel’s confusion. Then you heard a low chuckle. Was he laughing at your stupid lie? You wouldn’t blame him.

“I didn’t steal the hangers, sweetheart,” he snickered, as you were walking to the room. “I promise.”

You felt bad about lying, but when you glanced at his smiley face, you couldn’t help but giggle along. Your excuse was ridiculous, but it was the first thing that came to your mind and, what was more important, it worked.

You opened the door and Joel and you entered the room. The room where you met. The room where you saw more than you were supposed to. Felt more than you were supposed to.

Joel left the suitcase at the door, followed you to the living area and stopped a few steps from you, as always giving you personal space. You didn’t want that space now. A few minutes ago you’d thought that you had lost him forever so you took a step closer to him, basking in the warmth his smile was giving you, his honey eyes mesmerizing you.

Joel followed your lead and inched closer, too. Now one tiny step was separating you two. He lowered his voice and asked, almost whispering,

“It’s not about the hangers, is it?”

You looked down at your hands and shook your head, nerves, excitement, love churning your stomach. You opened your mouth to talk but didn’t find any words. Why have you brought him here? What do you want? What do you want?

The answer to that question came like a flash. You were seeing it clearly then, fears and worries pushed into the corners of your mind, only your desire in the spotlight.

You took the final step towards him and pressed your lips to his. It was a soft little peck, timid and fleeting, but the feel of him flush to you, his warm lips, his heady scent drew you to kiss him again. Joel didn’t pull back but instead put his hands on your waist. His touch was gentle, careful but it set your whole body on fire. Feeling overwhelmed you broke the kiss and looked into his eyes.

You had just kissed Joel Miller. Your brain switched off completely as you were ogling his handsome face up close, his hot breath fanning your lips, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes.

“I wanted to say ‘goodbye’,” you lied, looking into Joel’s darkening eyes. You’d never want to say goodbye to that man.

“Do all the guests get a goodbye like that from you?” he asked as his lips curled into a smile.

You dropped your head and whispered ‘no’. Joel’s chest rose and fell heavily and his sigh tickled your nose.

“Am I special then?”

A shiver ran down your spine when you heard his question. You looked him right in the eye and your voice didn’t waver when you replied,

“Yes.”

Your boldness seemed to touch him deeply, his face lit up as if he’d just gotten the best compliment in his life. His reaction warmed your heart but your eyes still were puffy from the tears, the pain was still fresh in your chest.

“I was afraid you’d left forever. Thank you for the note but, frankly, I hoped you’d leave your number,” you said, sadness coating your words. Joel sighed again and his puppy eyes made your heart flutter.

“I did. In the first note. But then I threw it in the trash.”

“Why?” you mumbled, blinking at him in confusion.

Joel inched closer and took your face into his big warm hands.

“Because you’re young and beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down, and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

“You have your whole life ahead of you.” – he kissed the corner of your eye,

“I’m a single dad.” — He kissed your nose, your other cheek, until his lips grazed yours for a fleeting moment.

Then he pulled away, his eyes glossy.

“And I live in another state. I didn’t have a right to leave you my number.”

Joel was still holding your face and it was heavenly but his words squeezed your throat with a tight grip.

“Why are you kissing me then?” you murmured, searching for the answer in his sparkling eyes.

Joel sighed again and croaked,

“’cause I can’t help it.”

That was when he kissed you. If your first kiss was like a soft breeze, a gentle caress to the skin, his was like an ocean, heady, overwhelming, you both drowning in it in seconds.

Joel’s arms bound you to him, your bodies flush against each other, and when he licked into your mouth, the taste of him made you dizzy, the ache between your legs grew and you bucked your hips against his thigh.

Joel growled, feeling your need, and your wet arousal leaked into your panties when you heard that he craved you, too. You broke the kiss and panted,

“When’s your flight?”

“In six hours.” Joel’s blown out eyes were darting between yours as he offered, “Can I spend this time with you?”

“Yes,” you replied immediately, having never been more sure about anything in your life.

Joel was beaming at you, his grin wide and happy. His hands were running up and down your arms as he mused,

“We can have a walk. Or we can stay here. What do you prefer?”

You dropped your head, contemplating your answer, and in a second you knew exactly what you wanted to do. You had about three hours to spend with the man of your dreams and you decided to use them to the fullest. There was no time to be shy.

“Can we stay here?” you asked quietly and Joel eagerly nodded.

“Yeah, sure, sweetheart. I’ll call the reception, see if I can have this room for today. Ok?”

“Yes! If it’s not booked, it shouldn't be a problem.”

Your belly was full of butterflies, your core was on fire, and it was hard to think straight, but suddenly you remembered that you had work to do.

While Joel was talking to Bertie, you pulled your phone out of your dress pocket and quickly texted Max.

Need to leave. Cover for me pls. I’ll explain later.

She sent you back an ‘ok’ just as Joel hung up.

Judging by his wide smile, the room was available.

“We can stay here.” He took your hand in his and you whispered a breathy ‘good’, already under the spell of his dark eyes.

He pulled you into his embrace and kissed you. His lips were moving gently against yours until they travelled lower to your neck, his moustache and beard deliciously tickling your skin. The sensation was intoxicating, your whole body was buzzing, craving him, your heart was beating fast.

You couldn’t wait any longer, your poor pussy was crying and begging for him, so you took his hand and led him to the bed.

“Thank you for the roses,” you purred, looking at the flowers, their crimson colour a bright contrast to the whiteness of the sheets. “They’re very beautiful.”

Joel barely glanced at the bouquet, he had eyes only for you.

“You’re beautiful, baby.”

***

A few kisses later you were making out, sitting on the edge of the bed, you’re on Joel’s lap, straddling his thighs, your arms wrapped around his thick neck. Joel’s hand was gently cupping the back of your head, the other, pressed to your lower back, keeping you close. You were softly whimpering into his mouth, your tongues tangled in a passionate dance.

“Ahh, Joel,” you moaned and began grinding your burning pussy against the big bulge in his jeans. Timidly at first, but the growing desire gave you courage to take what you wanted.

“I’m here,” Joel breathed out. “My needy girl.”

He broke the kiss and dropped his head down to watch your hips move, the hem of your uniform dress inching higher, exposing more and more of your tights-covered thighs.

“I need you too, sweetheart,” he confessed but then his hands left your hips and flew up to your face. He searched for your eyes and asked,

“You sure you want this? We can just kiss, baby. You don’t have to—“

“No, please, I want you,” you panted, surprising even yourself. You weren’t hiding your feelings anymore, you were begging him to give you more, to put down the fire burning you on the inside.

“Ok,” he nodded, his lips in a lopsided smile. “I needed to make sure.”

“I’ve never done this,” you mumbled, nervously chewing your lower lip. “Never been with a guest— like this.”

Joel brought his hand to your mouth and glided his thumb over your lip to stop you from hurting yourself.

“Me too, sweetheart. Never got a hotel room to —. He paused and you noticed a light blush painting his cheeks. Joel ran his hands down your neck and traced your neckline with his knuckles, lightly grazing your skin and sending chills down your spine.

“Can I undress you, baby?”

His voice was low and raspy, gorgeous and alluring, and you swallowed a moan when you heard his question. You replied with a sultry ‘yes’ and got off his lap.

Joel’s hands were gentle and slow. Standing behind you he unzipped your dress on your back, pulled it off your shoulders and helped you to step out of it. He slid the tights down and off your legs.

His fingers were gliding up and down your arms, his breath fanning your shoulder before he pressed his lips to the crease of your neck. You moaned, melting in his arms, turning into a puddle when his hand slid down your neck to your chest. You looked down and just then remembered what you were wearing that day- a simple flowery bra and unmatching black panties.

“Shit—,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up. “Wish I was wearing something sexy. Lace or something…”

Your voice was small, your head downcast. Joel walked around you, took your chin between his fingers and gently lifted your face. A pair of dark-as-night eyes met you, there was a bright fire in them, a desire that echoed deeply in your own body.

”I don’t want ‘lacy’. I want you.”

He cupped your covered breast with his big hand and began kneading it. Even through the padding the sensation sent lightning of pleasure to your core, and you moaned shamelessly watching him caress your other breast.

Then his hands snaked behind you.

“Can I…?”

You uttered a needy ‘yeah’ and Joel unclasped your bra, letting it fall on the floor.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, looking at your naked breasts, and you smiled, taking it as a compliment. ”You’re gorgeous.”

You were standing in front of him topless while he was still dressed. It was turning you on but you couldn’t wait to see him naked. Again.

“My turn,” you purred and grabbed the hem of his tee. You took it off him and ogled his golden skin, his toned shoulders, his muscular arms and a happy train on his soft tummy. Your hand impatiently flew to feel his broad chest, but having dreamed of it all week, you feared that he would disappear like a mirage.

“Joel,” you whispered his name like a spell, binding him to you at that moment, making it real in your mind, you and him there, exposed to each other, needing each other desperately, ready to dive into something beautiful and exciting.

You pressed your thighs together and a lustful shiver ran down your spine.

“C’mere, baby.” Joel probably thought that you were cold and caged you in his warm embrace. Your nose found its home in the crease of his neck, your heart close to his heart, your arms around his torso. It felt like his body was meant for you- to bring you comfort, to warm you up, to caress you, to make love to you.

You kissed his collar bone and Joel pressed his lips to the top of your head.

You two stood like that for a few moments, simply relishing the feel of each other's skin, sharing warmth of your bodies.

Then Joel’s hand slowly slithered down your back, covering your skin with a new set of goosebumps, and cupped your asscheek. He squeezed it gently and you moaned.

“Get on the bed, baby.”

He knew what you wanted, there was no uncertainty in his words, it sounded like a command, and you were happy to follow it.

You put the roses on the nightstand and climbed onto the soft bed. Your back against the pillows, you were watching Joel discard his jeans.

When he was only in his boxers, your jaw involuntarily dropped at the sight of his huge bulge. Apparently your memory wasn’t kind to him, because in your mind his cock was smaller. In reality he was hung like a god, and as handsome as one. A part of you got scared that he would split you in two, but the heady mixture of desire and love erased any doubts in your heart and head. You desperately needed him. Starved to have him inside you.

Joel lay down next to you and dived into your arms right away. As you were kissing, his hands were exploring your body, caressing your soft skin, gently squeezing your breasts, twitching your hardened nipples. You were hungrily feeling him too— with a soft drag of your nails down his arms and his back, with your fingers running through his silky curls. Your legs intertwined, you began rubbing your covered pussy against his hairy thigh.

“Joel— please,” you begged and with a fast hand he pulled your panties down. Now he could see all of you and you’d have probably got shy, but Joel’s eyes full of hunger and need, gave you the courage to throw your legs apart, to invite him to the most sacred place of your body.

”Jesus, sweetheart, you’re so wet,” Joel growled as his fingers were tracing your slicked up seam before pushing inside. With the pads of his two digits he drew a circle around your clit and you almost came, shuddering against the crispy sheets and his body. Joel noticed your reaction.

“Been needing it for some time, baby?”

“Yes, Joel, since the moment I saw you. Here, on this bed.”

You paused, scared that the memory of the incident would embarrass him, but Joel smirked, brought his lips to your ear and whispered,

“Did you like what you saw?”

You opened your mouth to reply but Joel made you gasp, when he slowly inserted his middle finger into your soft hole. He began thrusting it in and out, and you quickly turned into a moaning, dripping mess.

“I take it as a ’yes’”. His voice was strained with lust as his lips brushed against your cheek. “Did you think about me after that? About my hard cock?”

His soft husky voice, his words, his finger caressing something delicious inside you - everything at once was overwhelming and your eyes fluttered shut, your mind begging for any respite.

“Yeah, Joel, so— so much,” you slurred, unable to speak clearly.

“That’s my girl.”

Joel lightly nibbled on your earlobe, a satisfied growl rumbling in his chest, and then added another finger to penetrate your sopping heat.

Your moan was loud and shameless and Joel echoed you with a groan. His lips drew a path from your cheek, down your neck and soon he kissed your pebbled nipple. Your hand flew to his curls, legs opened up wider and your eyes rolled back, when he began sucking on your bud, while his fingers were opening your cunt up for his thick cock. Joel hummed at the taste of your skin and his low grunts made your pussy drool more around his digits. He parted from your tit and asked, breathing heavily with arousal,

“Tell me what you wanted me to do to you. When you thought about me, baby.”

“Wanted you —to fuck me.”

“Oh, baby. I thought about you, too. Fuck.. non stop, all these days.”

“Really?“ You panted, searching for his eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart. I thought— what if you’d stayed— would you wanna watch me?”

You bit your lip and purred,

“I would.”

Joel licked his smiling lips, his eyes blown out, and gave you a wink before saying,

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”.

Carefully, so as not to hurt your pussy with his fingers, he sat up and kneeled next to you on the bed, then using his free hand, the hand that wasn’t fucking you, he pulled down his boxers and let his stiff cock spring free. It was as gorgeous as you remembered, thick and long, curved up at the top, glistening in the sunlight, leaking rivers of precum.

“Now you can watch, sweetheart,” Joel groaned, wrapping his palm around his member with a sigh and beginning to jerk it.

You were watching him fuck his fist, while his fingers were fingering your wet pussy, until your plea interrupted your moaning.

“Can I do it? Please.”

“Yes, baby.”

Joel let go off his cock and your little hand immediately replaced his. You could barely circle your fingers around his girth but you applied all of yourself and began pumping his fat cock. Joel’s grunts were making your head spin. His pleasure was giving yours an ecstatic, exquisite, divine taste. You were revelling in the feeling of bringing ecstasy to him, your hand pulling up and down the soft skin stretched over the hot steel of his cock.

“Joel…what else did you think about? Tell me,” you moaned, tilting your hips up to give him more access to your crying pussy. His fingers were curling inside you and an upcoming climax overshadowed your shiness.

”Everyday I dreamed about pulling you close and kissing you, baby.”

“Just kissing?” you teased.

“Hngg, ‘course not. Wanted to tear your cute dress off, throw you on the bed and lick your little pussy.”

“Oh my god, Joel.”

“Then fuck you on every surface in here.”

His confession drew a needy whine out of your mouth and you began squeezing his fingers with your pulsating cunt. A hard orgasm was shaking your body, your pussy bursting with pleasure and wetness against his hand. You stopped jerking Joel off and just held his cock in your hand, too focused on the waves of euphoria rippling through you.

“Yeah, like that, baby,” Joel growled, watching you explode on his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you. So sweet and beautiful. I’d give anything to bounce you on my cock, to kiss your pretty tits.”

His mouth latched onto your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple, his fingers were still massaging your g-spot, prolonging your orgasm.

When you relaxed and your hand fell off his cock onto the bed, Joel carefully pulled his drenched fingers out of your stretched hole.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he whispered, taking you in his arms, and kissed you again, slowly and sensually, letting you rest in the warm ocean of his caress.

You were in heaven. Basking in the afterglow of the climax, relishing Joel’s embrace and his soft kisses, you couldn’t be happier.

He pulled away and looked into your hazy eyes.

“You ok?”

“Yes,” you murmured with a smile, tracing his handsome features with your gaze, mesmerized by him once again. Then you averted your eyes and bit your lip.

“What is it, baby?” Joel furrowed his brows and you heard a trace of worry in his tone.

You cupped his cheek and he melted against your touch.

“I want more, Joel. I need you inside me.”

Joel’s body shuddered at your words, his cock twitched, and you had no doubt that he desperately wanted it, too.

“I’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart. But— I don’t have condoms. Do you?”

You shook your head and hid your face in his neck, too shy to look at him, as you whispered.

“Can we do it without them? I’m clean, I promise.”

Joel stroked your head and kissed your temple.

“Me too, I haven’t had—, " he cleared his throat and continued, “had anyone for a while.”

“Ok.” You smiled, raising your eyes at him.

“Ok,” he echoed you.

***

You sat up and carefully straddled Joel’s thick thighs. His cock was engorged, crying and ready for you. But were you ready for it?

You swallowed loudly, fear noticeable in your expression, and Joel rubbed your thighs with his palms.

“We’ll go slowly, sweetheart. And.. if you’re not ready — I can kiss your pretty pussy instead.”

His words made you gush more, your head spun at the image of Joel’s lips on your cunt, but you shook your head with determination.

“No. I want you— want you to bounce me on your cock,” you quoted him with a timid smile and Joel half chuckled-half groaned. His cock twitched and you saw a drop of prefuck juice bead on the reddish slit.

“Baby, if you keep talking like this… I’m afraid I’ll come too soon.“

You playfully bit your lower lip, his words giving you much needed confidence. You felt desired, sexy and beautiful.

You got up on your knees and moved forward until you were hovering over his cock. It brushed against your folds and you impatiently gripped it at the base and glided his tip over your seam, before teasing your puffy clit with the bulbous head.

Your lustful whimper rang loudly in the room, fusing with Joel’s moan. Your palm planted on his hairy chest, you slid his tip down, and when it notched the source of your wetness, you began lowering your hips, slowly sinking on it. The sounds you both were making seemed like an epitome of pleasure, a beautiful melody of two bodies becoming one. They weren’t lewd, they were pure and sincere.

You seemed to lose an ability to talk or think, your whole being was overtaken by the feeling of Joel filling your core. The stretch sent shivers down your spine, but the dull pain got overshadowed by the bliss in your body. Joel’s palm was gripping your hip when the other slid up from your lower belly to your sternum, then to your chest until he surely could feel your heart, beating loudly in unison with your pussy, that was hungrily swallowing his length.

”Oh, baby, oh, yes,” was everything that Joel could muster when you took all of him. His eyes were dark with desire but the affection and warmth within them pulled you to him. You leaned down, lay down on his chest, uniting your heartbeats, and your lips met. Your eager tongues tangled with passion, your fingers ran through his curls, damp with sweat, his palms were exploring your body.

When Joel squeezed your asscheeks and gently lifted your hips up, you mewled, realizing what he wanted. Making out with him, you began slowly moving your hips up and down, your walls massaging his shaft, your mouth drinking his growls, that inevitably turned into moans. You smiled against his lips, happy to be giving Joel so much pleasure, but also getting an immense amount of it as well.

No one had ever made you feel so sexy in your life and the elation in your heart gave you the courage to break the kiss and sit up proudly on Joel’s cock, letting him see all of you again. With his mouth slightly open Joel looked completely drunk on you. His gaze slid over your body and he panted,

”Look at you, baby. Wish you could ride me like that every day till I die.”

You smiled and took his hand, that was kneading your breast, and kissed his palm. The next moment Joel sat up and you moaned at the position shift, feeling his cock even deeper inside you like that. He cupped the back of your head, and holding you close, kissed you hard. Your legs wrapped around his hips and you stilled, pierced by his member, melting in his arms.

His cock was thumping in your heat, your pussy was crying more and more around it, begging for a release.

“Joel,” you whined and, as if having read your mind, he grabbed your asscheeks in his strong hands and started lifting you up and down on his cock, moving your body easily, bringing you both closer to your peaks.

Your sensitive clit was deliciously rubbing against Joel’s hairy lower belly and soon you felt heat rise in your tightening core and your pussy started fluttering around Joel’s length.

“I’m coming,” you mewled and dug your nails into his broad shoulders, grounding yourself to him.

“That’s my girl,” Joel praised you, his eyes focused on your face, and then groaned through his teeth,

“Gonna come, too. Where d’you want me, baby?”

“Inside, please,” you begged, still trembling with the second orgasm.

“Yeah?” Joel grunted, “wanna be full of my hot cum?”

“Yes—yes—yes,” you chanted, bouncing on his cock, prolonging your pleasure.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I want it, too. Want your pussy wet with me for days.”

Pushed over the edge by the image and your walls gripping his member, Joel roared and began filling you up. You greedily milked him of every drop, pressing your body to his, burying your nose in his neck, relishing the scent of his heated skin.

Joel was jerking with every squirt of his load, holding you so tight that it was hard to breathe, but you’d have rather suffocated than left his arms at that moment.

***

“Thank you,” Joel murmured as you two were lying covered by the white sheets, face to face. Your legs were tangled, arms wrapped around each other, your nose against his neck. When you heard his soft voice, you raised your eyes at him.

“What for?”

“For being here with me. For letting me kiss you, touch you…”

His fingers glided over your arm and your skin erupted with goosebumps.

“You’ve done more than touching, sir,” you smirked and he groaned, pushing you over and pinning you to the bed with his body.

”Keep calling me ‘sir‘ and I’ll do it all again.“

“Promise?” you purred, feeling helpless, caged between the bed and his broad torso and your clit twitched again.

“Bad girl.”

Joel’s words reignited fire in your belly, but you felt like behind the playful banter there was something else that he wanted to tell you.

You cupped his cheek, your eyes darting between his, and whispered,

“I’m happy to be here with you.”

Joel sighed with a smile and leaned in to kiss you gently. Then he pressed his forehead to yours, his hot breath kissing your lips.

“What I wrote— in the note. You being the highlight of my trip— I meant it.”

A happy smile shone on your face, when you heard sincerity in his voice, warmth spreading inside your body. Joel lay down next to you and continued, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you all these days— wanted you the moment I saw you but that’s not all. You’ve been so kind to me. So sweet. I haven’t felt cared for like that in a long time.”

“I was simply doing my job,” you uttered, drawing patterns on his hairy forearm.

“No, I mean, yes, but — every time I thought of you, I felt something — “

He paused, searching for words. You felt emotions in his voice and you took his hand and pressed it to your lips before whispering,

“I know, Joel. I felt it too.”

”Oh, baby,” Joel pulled you into his chest and you pecked his lips before your eyes locked and you said everything to each other without words, your hearts speaking for you. His warm gaze glossed over and your vision got blurry with your own feelings.

“Joel,” you mumbled, opening your eyes. You woke up from a wonderful dream, where you fell for a handsome guest, who later kissed you, made you see the brightest stars with his lips, his fingers and his cock, and then you fell asleep, cuddling with him.

Fortunately, it wasn’t a dream.

“I’m right here,“ you heard a soft baritone of the man next to you. You wrapped your arms around Joel and he gave you a gentle kiss.

“Had a bad dream, sweetheart?”

A tsunami of emotions flooded your heart - excitement, affection, joy stole your breath away. He was really there. He was really yours. At least for now.

“No,” you croaked, sleep heavy in your voice. “It was the best dream.” You crashed your lips against his, hunger for his caress waking up with you, but a sudden memory flashed in your mind - you had been given just a few hours to be together.

“How long have I been asleep?” Panic was loud in your voice.

“About an hour.”

“Oh no! You should’ve woken me up. We don’t have much time.”

Joel hugged you tightly.

“Shh, we have time, baby. You were sleeping like a little kitten next to me. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to stare at you like a creep.” You two laughed, your nerves seeping you out of your heart.

Joel kissed you and then began leaving open-mouth kisses over your neck, your exposed breasts and a few moments later you were dripping your juices onto the white sheets while he was licking and sucking on your sensitive nipples.

“Sweet thing,” he mumbled against your tits. “Can I have a real treat now?”

“What?” you slurred, already drunk on him.

“You pussy, baby, can I taste her?”

“Oh,” you moaned and nodded with a timid smile.

You had never been eaten out that well before. Joel’s hands were pinning your hips to the bed, holding you open for him as he was feasting on your blooming flower, his hot tongue lapping at your folds and your clit tirelessly. His mouth was gentle but he gave you enough pressure to make your pussy pulsate and explode on his tongue in a few minutes.

You were practically crying with euphoria when he climbed up the bed to let you lick your own nectar off his lips.

***

The rest of the time together you spent naked in bed, talking, laughing, eating the food you ordered to the room, kissing and cuddling. At the back of your mind you kept thinking about how lucky you were - to have met someone you clicked with spiritually, sexually and emotionally. There was no doubt in your heart that Joel was your person and he looked at you like you were his.

Inevitably the precious time ran out and Joel needed to leave for the airport. It took everything from you not to burst into tears, when you imagined saying ’goodbye’ to him, but the day you had shared, the pleasure he had given you, eased the pain in your soul.

When you two were talking and sharing your past, Joel kept mentioning your future. Your future together. He promised to introduce you to Tommy and Sarah, to take you to his favourite places in Austin, and in your dreams you saw yourself forever by his side, getting to hug and kiss him every single day for the rest of your life. It seemed like the most amazing fairy tale, and although you knew by now that life was far from perfect, his enamoured eyes, his gentle hands, his kind words gave you strength to let him go, because your heart was full of hope.

***

You covertly changed out of your uniform in the staff room and sneaked out of the hotel to take Joel to the airport in your car.

When you two arrived, you couldn’t hold your tears back anymore. Joel gently wiped them away with his thumbs but his own eyes were glossy and reddish.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land, sweetheart,” he promised, holding your face in his warm hands, then wrapped his arms around you and kissed you like no one else before, passionately, sensually, claiming you as his, and you stored the memory of his body against yours deep inside your mind.

Many phone and video calls later

The next time you saw Joel again, not on the screen of your phone or your laptop, not in your dreams or fantasies, but in person, in real life, was at the airport as well. Now in Texas.

You spotted Joel first. His honey eyes were searching for you in a sea of people, his expression serious and concentrated. You wanted to run and kiss that deep crease between his brows, wanted to drop your bags and scream with happiness, but then you saw what he had in his hands and your eyes welled up with tears.

He was holding a sign with your name on it. It was sweet, but what made you cry were glittery hearts and flowers, decorating it. Joel definitely wasn’t the type to use glitter and draw pretty hearts and you realized right away. that they were made by Sarah’s hand.

***

Joel introduced you to Sarah a week after he’d flown back to Austin. You fell in love with his daughter right away, she was a lively and funny girl, excellent at trolling her dad, the talent of hers which always made you giggle.

Quickly she became a usual participant of your daily video calls with Joel. You never minded it, falling deeper in love with Joel, when you witnessed what a great father he was. Sarah often told you about her day, asked about yours, and when she shared only with you who she liked at school, you were touched by her trust. Soon you three had breakfasts and dinners together, Joel and Sarah joining you on the screen of your laptop, and it felt like you were a little family.

At night when Sarah was asleep in her bedroom, Joel and you had other types of calls. You quickly realized that the man was a menace. He loved making you needy and desperate with his husky voice whispering filth into your ear. He would tell you in great detail how exactly he would fuck you if he was there in your bedroom. Like a good girl you would be spread for him on the bed, your legs open widely, your fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping hole. You whispered his name again and again, your hazy eyes glued to the screen, where Joel was stroking himself, deep in the pit of desire just like you.

You lost count how many times he came watching you fuck yourself, how many times you unraveled in front of his hungry eyes. It was enough for you two. For the time being.

But your feelings grew and soon you felt like you were suffocating without being able to touch him, kiss him. Joel tentatively asked if you wanted to visit them in Austin and you happily agreed. One night you two were planning your trip, when Joel admitted. that he didn’t want you just to visit.

“Sweetheart... what if we lived together?”

“It would be amazing,” you sighed, smiling at him through your phone screen.

“So why don’t we?”

You were staring at him in disbelief for a few seconds, your heart in your throat, before you asked,

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Joel replied and added, ”I love you, baby.”

His watery eyes told you that he wasn’t joking.

“I love you, too, Joel. So much,” you mumbled, already sobbing with happy tears.

***

It took you a month to quit your housekeeping job, sell the things you didn’t need anymore, pack the stuff you did, say ‘goodbye’ to your friends and family and take a big step towards your future. Future with the man you loved, the man who loved you.

***

Not being able to contain your excitement any longer, you dropped your baggage and ran to Joel, waiting for you at the airport. You were quietly squealing, trying not to alert the people around you, but when Joel noticed you and his face lit up with a widest grin, you finally screamed. He opened his big arms to you and you dived into his warm embrace. Your lips met in a fiery, long awaited kiss, and you didn’t care that people were staring at you two, making out like two horny teenagers, holding each other close. Joel was yours and you were his. Once your guest, now he was your home.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! Your feedback means the world💞

MASTERLIST

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[valentinedrifter]

Days with Somi: Expression

male reader x Jeon Somi

~13.9k words

A/N: I apologize if the plot (there's plot?) doesn't make sense because all the recent Somi pics got me dented in the head.

Thanks to @suchsweetstories for the beta read!

Enjoy.

Jeon Somi loves having sex. 

Specifically, having sex with you.

You call it her ‘love language’. Her way to shower you with affection. Which you have to admit, for someone like Somi, checks off all of the boxes.

Receiving Gifts? Being able to fuck her on the daily is a gift itself. Especially when she offers up anal.

Physical Touch? You can spank her ass and grope her tits and she’d tell you to do it again. She even encourages you to do it as much as you want.

Quality Time? She’d fuck you anywhere if she gets in the mood. Your apartment, her apartment, the fast food restaurant’s bathroom, your car in a public parking lot. The post-sex cuddles you have with her are amazing too.

Words of Affirmation? Her screams of, quote: “Fuck, yes, more–” are enough to push you to go harder. She’s also expressing her appreciation of how good you’re pounding her pussy.

Acts of Service? Either she wakes you up with a blowjob or you wake her up by eating her out. It usually ends with one–sometimes both–of you being late to work. It’s one hell of an alarm clock though.

Sex has become a pivotal portion of your life ever since you started seeing her for a couple of months now. And it’s not like you’d ever say no to doing it with Somi. You made that mistake once, and while it was…an experience, you’d rather not have to call in sick because she fucked you too hard. 

It’s the fact that sex is the only consistent way she shows her feelings for you that makes it feel a little bit superficial. 

She comes over to your apartment angry at how the latest batch of makeup she made was shipped to the wrong address? She won’t ask you for comforting hugs, she’ll tell you to push her legs over her head and dick her down till she can’t walk. 

You get frustrated over the new Return-To-Office policy your job announced because the office is an hour drive? She won’t say a word, just pull your pants down and squeeze your cock in between her tits.

You won’t lie, sex with Somi is Grade A, Top Tier, Perfection. You’ll never get tired of her body, her moans, her willingness to do anything. What you are tired of, is the absence of romance—for the lack of a better term—in your life.

Not in the physical way, no, she already gives you enough to last a lifetime. It’s that the emotional link that you feel was starting to degrade.

You want to be able to do the whole “Netflix and Chill” bit without it ending in the couch getting wet. To be embracing her as you wake up in the mornings. To spend the day doing nothing together.

And it wasn’t like she doesn’t say the words that you’ve been wanting to hear, because she does. She just says it with ‘your cock’ instead of ‘you’ a lot more than you’d like.

You’re starting to think that this is becoming more casual, something to scratch her itch, some sort of fuck buddy set up instead of as a couple. Maybe when this relationship with Somi was still at its infancy would you consider that type of deal–purely physical–because that’s what this was built on.

Thinking back, it’s how it’s always been. Even as she first approached you at the bar you two met. She ordered what you had—a shot of whiskey—and started off with small talk. You two got to know each other, and you may have had a few too many shots that made your lips a bit looser. 

That’s why when you drunkenly tell her that she was hot in that white crop top she was wearing, and that you wanted to lick the alcohol off her stomach, all she does is smirk. The next words she said sobered you straight up.

“When and where?”

And that’s how you ended up playing body shots inside her apartment. It started off innocent enough. Well, as innocent as playing the sort of game that inevitably gets you both drunk and fucked.

You two kept in touch after that night. After a week or so of trading messages and a few racy pics from her, she invited you to meet up again.

This is when the cycle began. One of you invites the other to meet up for something, you do said something, and you two end up doing each other after. Then it happens again.

Somewhere along the way feelings were aired out and you two started to see each other more seriously. At the same time, railing Somi into any nearby surface became a 9-5 job.

Yet you can’t help but want more than that.

To be honest, you might be overthinking things. Maybe you should have sat her down, talked like two responsible adults, and figured out whatever’s happening between you two—really just you—before it got out of hand.

So you do the responsible move. Ask a friend for advice. 

Although, you might have asked the wrong person.

“You’re overthinking things.” Aeri deadpans, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’m not overthinking it.” You deny. “I’m just…stressing about it.”

“That’s the same thing.” 

“Look, are you gonna help out or not?” You scowl, crossing your arms.

“Fine. But you’re presenting to the boss next week.” She sighs, dramatically placing her drink down on the table. “Here’s what you do–”

The next hour becomes a weird lecture consisting of Aeri laying out an entire thesis of plans on how to woo Somi with your heart and not with your dick. You needed to note it all down just to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

After some planning and finalizing some dates, you settled on a beach trip. It was ordinary, casual, relaxing. A chance to have fun without too many shenanigans involved. You can even take her to the nearby festival that’s going to take place for some celebration too.

Of course, the trip being with Somi makes that a pipe dream. 

Day one was mostly spent on actually getting to the venue, getting a feel for the area, and checking into the hotel. 

And everything was going great. It was all going according to plan. After you take a break from all the driving you’ve done you told yourself that you’d take her out to see the tourist spots.

Said break is how you two end up at the hotel’s restaurant, enjoying the cuisine of different nations, the aroma of delicacies, the sound of the piano fluttering across the air. You had to veto room service because no breaks and no eating would happen otherwise.

“Oh my God.” The clattering of metal hitting ceramic fills the table. “I’m so full.” Somi’s slouched over the chair, hand over her stomach as you finish up your own plate.

“You did get two plates worth of dumplings.” You shrug, stabbing your fork down on a leaf. “And the crab too.”

“But it was so good.” She’s justifying, arms out across the table. “I kinda want more.”

“And make your ass explode all over the bathroom later?”

“Fuck you.” She laughs, throwing a napkin at your face. “Like you won’t be doing that later.”

“O–kay.” You exasperate, gesturing down. “Not in front of my salad.”

“Come on.” Her chin’s resting on a hand, tilting her head as she smirks. And it’s that smirk, that fucking smirk, that always precedes your downfall to the drug that is Somi. 

Ruining her is usually an eventuality, especially given that you’re going to be alone with her for the next few days. But this time, you will not falter. You remind yourself why you’re here, what the point of this entire trip was about. That this is to show her how much you–

Oh Goddamnit.

Somi’s finger is on her tank top, stretching the fabric outwards. Her tits are practically squished together, making them a lot more bigger than they already are. Then she pulls down, and you find out that she wasn’t wearing a bra this entire time. You also find out that the only thing that was on her boobs were a pair of nipple tape covering her buds.

“You sure you don’t want to?” Her finger’s moving across her top, showing you more of that milky white skin, and she knows that you’re getting hooked. “I even brought lube.”

“Somi-” Your hand springs up, slapping her hand away and pulling her top back up in one smooth motion. “I thought we said no funny business outside the hotel.”

“We’re still in the hotel aren’t we?” Of course she’s gonna pull semantics at you. “Just a little quickie before we head out for the festival.”

The line’s set, and you’re tugging it. “You just can’t help yourself, can you.” 

She’s lifting her arms above her head, emphasizing her chest, her tight clothing rising with it to show her stomach, defined and toned from all the yoga lessons she’s been doing. You unconsciously grip the table sheets.

“I just wanna show my appreciation for my sweet, sweet boyfriend-” She’s reeling you in, hard, and you inevitably let yourself be swept away. “-who set up this entire trip and drove me all the way here so early in the morning.”

You’re thinking of happy thoughts, the logistics of the rest of the trip that you have yet to do with her, the caesar salad that you’ve been enjoying. Anything to stop yourself from appreciating the view right in front of you because this is getting out of hand.

The chair screeches. “So whenever you’re done here,” Somi’s standing up, giving you a very nice view of her cleavage as she does. “I’ll be heading back up and getting myself ready.” That smirk is still on her face when she leans in. “Maybe if you’re fast enough you can have a piece of my ass.”

Your resolve is officially gone, the idea of having Somi’s sweet, tight ass once more becoming too tempting as she walks away, waving her keycard at you like it was some sort of prize. Your eyes are glued to her waist moving from side to side.

Sinker.

—

You had to sit and wave at the waiter to pay for the food. Normally you’d go right up to the cashier to do that but a particular brunette made it hard to stand up. Once you manage to get up from your seat without your hard-on in full display to the other patrons, you immediately speed walk it to the elevator. 

You’re falling back into the same repetition of Somi causing trouble, dragging you to another round of debauchery. You already tried to set ground rules by only doing it inside the hotel, but you suppose you’ll need to re-negotiate it to just being in the hotel room.

Which, thinking on it, was where you were going. Sigh.

She’s irresistible, and she knows it. Shit, she flaunts it whenever she can around you because she knows you’ll give in eventually.

Maybe you can slip in one dose of Jeon Somi’s tight ass before you move on with your plan to take her out for a romantic date. Considering the plan’s already screwed up as it is, all cause Somi—and by extension, you—decided to have some fun. 

Though, you really should stop this. Say no. Sounded simple enough. Just one word. Lay it out flat.

But the seed’s already planted. The picture of her in your hotel room, waiting, naked, touching herself, prepping for all the dirty things you’ll be doing to her; Your inhibitions get shot to pieces.

You already know what’s going to happen when you walk through that door. She’ll be somewhere in the room—the balcony, you bet—ready for you to ravish her. And for all intents and purposes, you might as well enjoy the detour.

Soon as you open the door to your hotel room, the TV’s blaring out music and the bathroom door’s open. You take your shoes off before walking up to the doorway to be greeted with the unholy sight of Somi.

Naked, leaned into the bathroom counter where she uses the mirror to glance at you, her ass swaying as one of her hands are in between her legs and the other resting on the cold marble right next to a clear little bottle.

“Hey there.” She sighs out. “Just–finishing up.” Her eyes are fluttering shut, two fingers pumping into her puckered hole, already knuckle deep at this point. Somi knows the drill when it comes to preparing herself for anal; she has it down to a science at this point.

Her hand slides over to the bottle, pushing it towards you as a silent suggestion before she ruffles her hair, making her all the more ruinable. You’re shaking your head, but you step behind her anyway, unbuckling your belt in the process.

“Always a tease.” You’re pulling your pants down, your boxers following after to let your cock feel the cold air of the bathroom.

“Like you don’t love it.” She replies, orbs blinking open, looking at you through the mirror with fuck me eyes as she pulls her hand away from her hole. “Ready when you are.”

You’re applying an ample amount of lube onto your cock, stroking to help cover your entire shaft as you move closer, resting yourself on her ass. “You’re excited.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been horny ever since we got in the car.” 

You scoff. “You’re always horny.” 

She laughs. “Who wouldn’t when you have that cock–” Your tip’s pressing against her asshole, making her unable to reply as she feels you push into her. It’s splitting her open, her tight, slick ass taking you in slowly.

“Hurry up.” She’s taking deep, steady breaths as she presses back onto your cock, adjusting to the feeling of your cock inside her, taking even more of you as you grip her hips. As you bottom out, she lets out a groan, smiling through the pain of taking your entire dick up her ass.

“You’re getting impatient.” A hand lifts up from her hip to grab one of her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. “Thought you’d wanna take your time.”

“You still gotta take me to that festival.” She moans out as you’re pulling out slowly, letting her get used to your size before you stretch her out again. She clenches around you, impossibly tight, as you slowly begin to buck into her. “And I wanna get to–Fuck, that’s it–get to the beach too.”

She loops one of her hands around her neck as a harness, pulling herself up to give you a kiss. “So as much as I want to enjoy this–“ Another sigh slips out of her, the pleasure slowly erasing any of the pain that she’s feeling. “–You need to dick me down, fast, so we can enjoy our vacation.”

You smile, dipping down to pepper kisses around her neck. “Something we agree on, babe.” Your thrusts progressively get faster into her, enjoying the feel of her ass, the lube doing wonders for the both of you as she braces herself once more on the counter.

She’s so unbelievably snug, the feel of her abs flexing on your hand as she sucks you in so much easier now, the wet, sticky, warm hole overtaking your mind as you get to pounding her asshole.

”Fucking missed this ass, didn’t you?” She’s watching you over the reflection, your gaze laser focused on the bounce of her ass. It was hypnotizing, seeing it recoil from how hard you’re ramming your cock into her. 

“I never say no to your ass.” You grunt out, gripping her hip a bit firmer, squeezing her tit a bit harder, hammering a bit faster as you enjoy hearing her whimper your name out, her hand shooting up to hold onto yours as she shifts her body to lean into you instead.

”Then ruin my ass–“ She’s grinning, squeezing her breast over your hand. Her other hand is moving back down between her legs again, circling her clit, adding even more to the bliss she’s feeling. “–ruin it for anyone else.”

You oblige, hand crashing down on her ass before you grip her again, near the small of her back this time as you get rougher, thrusts getting more frantic as she starts to sing all these filthy words out.

“God, love you in my ass. Love it when you stretch my ass out, filling me, breaking me.” She’s on a tangent, muttering out all these porn star-y lines as if she is one, and honestly? She can probably make bank if all she had to do was take dick. “Gonna–Gonna make me your whore, aren’t you? Make me take your cock in all my tight fucking holes till I can’t fucking walk anymore–”

A sharp crack airs out, followed by a chuckle, slow, breathy, enticing. Her tongue’s out, tracing her lips. “Do it again. Slap my ass some more.”

And you do it. God do you do it. Your palm’s leaving hard slaps on her skin, leaving it with red marks that gets her even more fucked up as she watches, mouth widening at how much you’re utterly obsessed with her and her ass.

“Only think about cock nowadays don’t you, you stupid bitch.” You pinch a bud, giving her another slap on the ass. Whether she tightens up from the slap or the degrading nickname, you can only guess. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re getting mine.”

”Yes, love your cock–“ Somi’s rubbing herself faster now, fingers getting desperate as you slam harder into her hole, unrelenting. “Own this ass–” Her eyes are rolling back, her entire body starts to tremble, losing herself as she grips the counter again, letting herself be used like a doll. 

”Oh, fuck–“ She lets out this scream, raw, husky as liquid starts to drip out of her, dripping down her legs all the way to the tiles. Her head slacks downward, eyes shutting, her ass somehow gets even more vice-like than you thought it could get, making you murmur out a curse, reluctantly pulling out of her ass to stop yourself from following her.

Her fingers are persistent, working her clit when you spread her ass, looking at her gaping hole. You grip your shaft, lowering it down to her pussy, slick from her cum, dragging it up and down, the feeling of her heat making you wet your lips.

She shudders when you push inside her cunt, legs still shaking as you bury deep inside her. Her ass may have been tighter, but the feeling of her pussy being so much more slicker and the way it was radiating heat makes you groan out.

“Miss my pussy too?” She purrs, using the mirror to look at the both of you. Her hair’s a mess, brown strands sticking out all over the place, tongue playfully peeking out as that damn smirk forms on her mouth while you start fucking her.

“Just getting a taste.” You’re wrapping your arms around her, locking eyes with Somi through the glass as you lean in to whisper in her ear. “Promise to cum inside your ass.”

She grins, leaning back, mouth dropping open as you start to pick up the pace, her  body rocking forward every time you get balls deep inside of her. “You better. Want that cum filling up my ass, baby.”

You’re still focused on her face, from the way her eyes are rolling back again, from how rough you pummel into her, her mouth that’s panting out moans and begging for more of you, your cock, your cum. Her gaze never loses sight of you, watching you pound her into the marble.

Then you feel it. That all-familiar stirring in your balls, making you go feral, and she can sense it too, by how she pushes back against your hips, letting her take you for a ride.

You’re holding onto her tits, squeezing the soft flesh, rolling her nipples between your fingers, tugging at them, while Somi’s grounding herself by the counter as she’s bucking, grinding her ass against you whenever she takes you all in.

Her ass is fucking unbelievable to look at, soft, firm, bouncing with this rhythm that edges you closer to the end. The slaps of her backside hitting your pelvis is all you can hear, fueling you further to bursting. That tightness in your balls is building, the feel of her wet, hot pussy sending you to the deep end before you spill inside her.

“Gonna cum, Somi, fuck–” You lock up, going for one last push to cross the finish line as you send it, deep, filling her completely with your length.

The pressure breaks, hands sliding down to hold onto her curves, locking her in place as you cum, shooting up her pussy, the few hot spurts painting her walls. Then you remember where you’re supposed to cum, and pull out abruptly. Cum’s still leaking out as you press your tip into her asshole, flooding her pucker with your load.

“That’s it.” She stills, moaning in tune with every pulse of your cock, filling her ass, rolling her hips as you thrust, stuffing her with cock, giving her every bit of your cum. “So much hot, fucking cum all inside me.”

You slump over Somi, resting your head by her nape, completely spent and she’s glowing. As if your cum was some sort of energy drink that invigorates her, looking like she wasn’t pounded into the bathroom sink. 

“So–” She plants this sloppy kiss on your cheek, a snicker coming out of her as she rests her head on yours. “My ass still as good as you remember?”

“Always.” You sigh out, pulling out of her and drawing her into your arms. “Now shut up and let me have this moment.”

Her lips curve upwards, air scoffing out through her nose as she leans into you, running a hand through your hair, damp from your past actions. She leaves another kiss on your shoulder, soft, loving.

“This is nice,” she mutters out, nestling underneath you.

You hum in agreement, seeing yourself smiling over the reflection of the mirror.

Even if you two have done this so many times, you’d never get tired of having Somi in your arms.

—

After the bathroom incident, you both took a shower—separately, of course, you didn’t want any more unpredicted scenes happening—and walked to the nearby festival. Fucking about in the short trip to the venue was something you’d expect coming from her.

“Why is the festival so far away from the beach?” Somi’s fixing her bucket hat, using the nearby window of a cafe as a mirror. “You said that it was nearby.”

“It is.” You place a hand on the small of her back, steering her away from the window where people were definitely watching her model for free. “It’s a ten minute walk.”

“That’s ten minutes too long though-” And the countdown’s at five. You’re rushing her to the crossing, guiding her out of any more trouble. “-and my feet are starting to hurt.”

“Somi, we just got out of the hotel.” You deadpan. “And how does your feet hurt in All-Stars?” You stop at the other side, turning your head to face her.

“Because you’re walking too fast, jackass.” She pouts. It’s not something you see everyday from her. “Slow down a bit, enjoy the scenery.”

You know what she meant by ‘scenery’. It was Somi-speak for ‘Let’s find a place for a quickie’. One more way to derail this break you’ve planned for weeks. And you were not gonna fall for it a second time.

“Somi.” Your voice is stern, calling her out on her bullshit. “Seriously, not outside.”

She rolls her eyes, lips jutting out just enough for it to look adorably pissed off. “It’s just a joke–”

“No, it wasn’t.” You cut her off. “I know you. And that’s not a joke.”

Some would think you’re being too harsh on her. Normally, you’d agree. But you need to put your foot down this time. The glare on your face surprises her, like she wasn’t expecting you to push back on something that’s become the norm in your relationship.

She’s a walking trouble magnet. Anytime, anywhere. It didn’t matter if it was a risky fuck in a public bathroom or getting fingered at a park. If she wants to get off, she’ll more than likely drag you to it. She usually expects you to follow through. Do whatever type of fucking on whatever surface is nearby. 

You can tell she doesn’t like hearing it. It was foreign. Unfamiliar territory that she’s stepped on. Wasn’t like you want to say it either, because you don’t. But Somi was pushing, even with that ‘hotel only’ rule-thing in place. 

Somi knows it. She had to. It’s why she hasn’t said anything. Only stared, searching, sighing. You know you’ve won when she adjusts her bucket hat and purses her lips together.

“You’re no fun today.” She says, wrapping her arms around yours, hiding her face from your gaze, and mutters something you barely heard.

“...But I get it.”

You let air come out through your nose, and relax just a tiny bit. Enough for her to know that you’re not truly mad, and maybe a tad bit disappointed. Her arms tighten their grip. She exhales, dramatic, exaggerated, theatrical.

“I hope you know that you owe me one later.” Her smirk is creeping back onto her face, the teasing coming back in full swing. And perhaps, even a bit of understanding slipping in.

“Yeah, yeah.” You shake your head, giving her an amused little smile. “Put it on the tab.”

She giggles, leaning into your side as you continue walking. Her head turns.

“Is that coconut?” She asks, leaning just a bit more to smell your scent.

“Yeah, why?” You’re turning a corner, a small sign pointing to the festival’s venue stuck on a wall.

“Nothing.” She gets comfy in your arms, resting her head on your shoulder. “Smells nice, is all.”

This is nice too; Quiet, comfortable, enjoying each other’s company.

Until you feel it. The crowd getting thicker, the chatter and the footsteps matching the beat of the traditional drums. You felt livelier, hell, the entire place felt alive, and the smell of mouthwatering, rich, smoky, meat enters you.

Rows upon rows of food stalls are lined up; The sizzling meat, the cold boba, the multitude of grub tempting you to take part in it.

“Oh my God.” Somi lets go of your arm, slipping downward to hold your hand instead. Her stare is darting, left, right, looking between the display of delicious delights. She feels warm. “We are so eating first.”

“I thought you said you were full.”

“After what we did earlier, I need a little pick me up.” She’s dragging you to the nearby booth, the aroma of sweet, sweet meat filling your nostrils, and by God you wanted one too.

Sausages, kebabs, fishcakes. Everything looked so good you can’t choose where to start. It’s a good thing Somi does, as she takes a skewer of pork—maybe beef? You weren’t sure—and a cup of fishcakes, already pulling out change from her handbag to pay the vendor, giving her thanks while she’s at it.

She turns to you, already taking a bite of her skewer, taking the top piece off before she practically moans.

“This is sho good.” She’s shameless with the food, swiping her tongue to get the sauce off her lips, the sounds coming out of her bordering pornographic, getting her the occasional odd stare from others. “You want some?”

Shit, if the smell didn’t tempt you, the way she ate the meat would have.

She’s offering you the stick, and you were about to take it off her hands before she pulls it away, an “uh-uh” coming out disapprovingly. 

“What?” You ask, looking back at her, head tilted, giving you a look. She holds it up one more time, closer to your mouth this time. 

Your eyes cycle back and forth from hers to the stick, trying to figure if there’s some sort of ulterior motive that Somi’s trying to pull. But seeing her round ebony globes turn to crescents, face grinning, brows wagging lets you know that she really does want to feed you her meat. 

Your breath catches briefly before you let out this airy laugh. This doesn’t feel remotely close to the Somi you know, but you’re enjoying it either way.

“Unbelievable.” You mutter out, leaning in to bite the cube of flesh off the stick, chewing it slowly, savoring the flavor of the meat—definitely pork—and the sweet taste of the sauce it was dipped on before Somi bought it off the stall.

“Told you it’s good.” She’s already smug about it, finishing up the skewer before she uses the stick to dig into the fishcakes. “Almost as good as yours.”

“Did–did you just compare me to pork?” 

“Yours is still the best, babe.” She’s smirking, putting a piece of cake into her mouth before walking away. “Let’s go see what else is on the menu.”

You two move through the area, trying out whatever peaks catches your interest, like those fish bread that had bean paste inside, some fried dumplings, and a bowl of spicy ramen that you could get for free if you ate it within the set time limit. 

Both you and Somi left that shop a few bills short and egos bruised.

Your tongue is scorching from the heat and spices of whatever monstrosity of a ramen bowl you just ate, half tempted to take off your jacket while you’re at it and Somi’s wiping a tear from her eye, huffing short breaths. Just trying to recover from how fucking spicy the noodles were, and trying to salvage any shred of pride you two have.

“I think I’m dying.” She hisses out, fanning her face with her bucket hat. “We need milk or something. Anything. Just–what the fuck was in that ramen–just needs to be cold.”

You're scanning the nearby stalls, trying to find something that can alleviate this flame burning your mouths. Ice cream, shakes, something freezing. You’d take plain old water if it was kept frozen for hours on end.

Then you see it. Squeezed between two vendors, condensation dripping down the glass dispenser, ice and lemons floating over the body of water within. You can feel how cold it is from a mile away. It’s a Godsend, a light to guide you out of this hell, and Somi sees it too, speed walking towards the kiosk with you right behind her.

As soon as you approach the owner, he’s already preparing cups as if he knows everyone who’s tried the ramen came to his stall. Freezing cubes, citrusy yellow fruits, chilly H2O, all combined into a concoction that would bring forth paradise to the inside of your lips.

Somi doesn’t bother with a straw, she just pops the lid open and starts chugging it down while you’re still paying for your drinks, saying your thanks as you start drinking your own plastic cup. It’s refreshing, dousing the blaze in icy cold liquid.

The lemonade does its job, allowing a respite to finally breathe again. Somi’s already finished her drink, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, letting out a laugh.

“We’re checking every instant ramen pack we buy after that.” She says, shaking her head, blowing air through her mouth, still feeling the effects of the noodles. You let out this hum of agreement, too occupied with the bliss of the cold refreshment.

“Oh yeah.” You finally sigh out, licking your lips. “That was worse than your cooking.”

She swats your arm, light but firm enough to make you almost drop your juice. 

“My cooking’s great!” Her brows furrow, cheeks puffing out.

“Exactly. That was made by the Devil. Anything’s better than that.” You shift your grip, making sure that nothing spilled onto your hand while giving her a look.

She rolls her eyes, muttering about how ‘ungrateful’ you are when her gaze flickers past you; Her brows raise, jaw slacking slightly making you turn your head to follow her sight.

Your lips were about to part, to ask her what she’s looking at, until a deep boom cuts through the festival. It was slow, steady, pulsing, shaking the ground with each beat. Everyone around you stirs, turning to the source near the open area in the middle. You see costumed dancers with large fans on their hands. The beat of the drums goes faster, and you’re unconsciously taking Somi by the wrist, pulling her towards the performance. 

The show is spectacular; the colors of their dresses swirling around, the lights bouncing off them. They dance like a well-oiled machine, giving the spectators a show of a lifetime.

Your head turns, glancing at Somi, who’s just as immersed as you were, a glow in her those small orbs that you can get lost in that only ever shows when she’s gazing at things she cares intimately about. The orange light frames her face perfectly, the flickering shining through, a rawness in how she’s watching being written in her visage.

You can tell that she’s not just watching. The way her lips are still parted, her body nodding to the beat. She’s taking it in, losing herself in it, oblivious to the outside world. Oblivious to your staring.

Everyone’s focused on the dancers, the ballad of drums thumping along with each step they take, the muttering of the crowd as they’re wow’d by the show blending in with the smell of the nearby food stands. But all you’re focused on is her.

Somi’s blowing you away under the warm hue of the lanterns, a honeyed light encapsulating her hazel hair that makes her look like a Goddess; Shit, she probably is, and you can’t help but trace every little feature of her face; The curves of her cheekbones, the fullness of her lips, the light in her eyes. While everyone’s breath is taken away from the performers, yours is taken away by her.

She looks like she’s a dream that you’ve all but imagined. One you could spend the rest of your life looking at.

And you want to tell her. God, do you want to tell her.

But you settle for holding her hand instead, giving it a light squeeze. She squeezes back.

“It’s beautiful.” Her focus is still centered on them, talking about the performance.

“Yeah.” You’re talking about her. “It is.”

She turns, locking her gaze onto yours, and she realizes that too. 

Her grip on your hand gets tighter as the last beat drums out into the air, the group posing, bowing, thanking everyone. Claps and cheers sound out as everyone slowly returns to what they were doing before.

Just like the two of you do, when a smirk appears on her face. “Getting sappy on me?”

“Shut up.” You chuckle, walking backwards, your hand never letting go of hers as you continue on exploring. The warmth in your chest still lingers.

She lets out this tiny teasing giggle, fingers squeezing playfully, letting herself be strung along the crowd. The entire place feels even more lively than it was before the dance, the swarm of people occupying the stalls once more, the energy at an all time high. 

You can still smell the aroma of the kebabs, trying to pull you back in for another taste. You see the hellish ramen shop full of people lined up to take on the challenge; The lemonade stand has pre-made cups ready.

You nudge Somi, nodding to the stand, where the current contestant’s booking it to buy said juice, causing you two to laugh at the similarities.

You and her floated, going everywhere, doing everything. Listening to the band that performed earlier do a much more calmer beat. Watching Somi try—and fail—at shooting darts.

“You good?” Your arms are crossed, amusement coloring your face as she’s aiming at the board, an eyelid closed, tongue sticking out at the side, arm cocking forward. “I can do it for you, you know.”

“Shush.” A moment. An arm extending. A thunk in the air.

“Nice.” You’re clapping. “You hit nothing three times.”

She grunts, slamming down coins on the table. “You do it then.”

And you did. You hit dead center twice. You got a small keychain of a lantern too.

Somi’s sulking, arms crossed as she stares at the board, muttering out one word. “How?”

“You’re just bad.” You can’t help but be smug about it.

You got another smack on the arm for that.

The sun’s starting to set when the both of you ended up at the souvenir portion of the place, where you can see another line on a small photobooth on the side, stalls of handmade jewelry, charms, candles, whatever can be kept as keepsakes after today.

You’re window shopping—mostly—while Somi’s going through each and every one of the sellers, picking up trinkets that catch her eye. A bracelet here, an amulet there, she’ll try them all.

You’re mostly sticking to one, browsing through columns of rings, some similar, others completely different; A variety of colors, simply intricate designs, silver and gold bands all presented in ring boxes. A few have stones adorned on them, or have engravings etched in the metal.

Yet you only see one, tucked away in a corner. You hover over it, brushing your fingers over its container, and you pick it up.

The ring itself is made of this ashen grey metal, a thin turquoise line running in the middle, looping around it. It doesn’t scream attention, but there’s something fitting about it that makes you want to-

“What you got there?” Somi’s back with you, staring at the box that you’re holding. 

You blink, and you have an epiphany; The ring wasn’t for you, it’s for her.

“Put it on.” You take the ring out of the box and place it down, and you can feel the merchant look away and whistle.

“You’re proposing already?”

“Thought it would suit you.”

She laughs, takes it off your hands and twirls it, examining it for herself. She smiles, small, almost unnoticeable, and slowly slides it on her ring finger—it fits perfectly.

“What do you know,” Somi’s admiring it on her hand. “It does suit me.” There’s a fondness in the way she says it, as if she already likes the feeling of having it on her finger.

You were expecting her to follow up on that proposal joke she made before she put it on; She didn’t.

You had that gut feeling that she’d like it earlier, but the way she looks at it catches you off guard. Like it was something that she didn’t know she needed. Like a memento that came from someone special. Someone like you.

And that was all you needed to know to get it for her.

“So what did you get?” You’re nonchalantly changing the topic, trying to hide your excitement by fishing a few more bills out of your wallet, making a subtle face at the seller like you were asking for the price.

“This.” She says just as you pay and grab the ring box from the table. “You got me this.”

“Oh.” You shrug. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “Well, I-uh, I hope you like it.”

“I love it.” She corrects, thumbing the ring. “I’m never taking it off.”

“Now who’s getting sappy?”

She makes this noise—happy, embarrassed—and shakes her head, smiling. “I hate you.”

You chuckle. “No, you don’t.”

She doesn’t answer. She only tugs you by the hand. “Come on, I heard there’s fireworks and the beach has the best view.”

You can’t help but tease her a bit when your brow raises and your lip turns upwards. “You didn’t get me anything did you?”

“Keep talking and I won’t get you anything at all.”

—

You can feel the festival’s energy stay with you two when you reach the outskirts of the beach, the faint smell of all the food you’ve passed by lingering on your clothes. But the chaos of it all is dimmer, the coastline not as populated, with only a few scattered around the area.

You took the long way back, enjoying the nightlife scenery of the area—without shenanigans—seeing everyone else enjoy the festival just as you did, the orange lights being replaced with the moonlight, some of the organizers prepping the colorful rockets that will dazzle the crowd later on.

Somi hasn’t stopped smiling, fooling around every other moment, raving all about the fireworks like it's the New Years and she needs someone to do that kissing tradition people do when it hits quadruple zeroes.

Wasn’t like you’d say no. Win in your books really.

The both of you end up on a pathway of rubble and stones, eventually coming across a set of benches looking towards the shore. She acts first, moving forward, pulling you with her to sit on the wooden chair.

Other than the sound of the waves crashing and the cicadas, it was finally quiet. A nice, comfortable quiet. Enjoying the silent peace, away from the chaos of the festival.

She rests her head on your shoulder, hand still looped around yours. “Borrow your jacket?”

“Sure.” You don’t hesitate, already moving to take your jacket off. You pull away from her for a moment to slip it from your shoulders and drape it over hers, securing it over her arms.

“Thanks.” Her fingers take a hold of the leather, pulling it closer to herself before she nestles back against you. A moment passes between you two, then–

“It’s still fucking cold.”

“I can always get you another bowl of that ramen–”

“No. Snuggle me.”

“O-kay.” And snuggle her you did. Arm over her shoulder, a kiss on her forehead. You two stay like that for a while until she takes another whiff of you, and squints.

“You really need to tell me that perfume you’re wearing.” She states.

“I’ll hand you the bottle back at the hotel.” She pouts.

“Just tell me the name already.” She whines. It was cute.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” She’s puffing her cheeks. It was cuter.

“Killjoy.” She elbows lightly. “Gonna snoop through your luggage for that bottle.”

“And now you’ll never get it.” You grin. It turns into a laugh when she elbows you a bit harder this time.

You two quiet down after, enjoying the view of the beach. She’s holding on to your hand, that ring on her finger glinting. She stares at it, smiling like an idiot again.

“Really outdid yourself this time, huh.” She mutters, too low for you to hear.

You hum, glancing down at her still staring at her hand. “Did you say something?”

She meets your eyes, giving you that look that she had back when you two were watching the performance happen. She holds it a beat too long, and opens her mouth to speak—

“Aeri told me.” She starts, gaze staying on you, even as you look away. Of course Aeri is a rat. “About why we’re here.” She chuckles. “And I think I should clear things up between us.”

“You don’t have to-” A nudge stops you from continuing.

“Shut up and let me talk.” Even when she’s serious there’s still that faint teasing inside of her. But it gives way when she breathes in and holds it, and lets it go.

“Every ex I’ve had was there because I’m ‘hot’. The easy fuck. And I knew about it.” She continues, thumb moving around the ring once more. “So I leaned into that stuff. I love doing it anyway, so I thought it’d be a win-win for everyone, you know?” She looks away, back to the shoreline. “But it didn’t feel right. Like–like yeah the sex was good–you’re the best–” She clarifies, and that kind of made your ego swell up a bit.

By a lot, actually.

“–But it was just sex. Honestly felt like I was booty call than anything else.” She shakes her head, sighing, tired from remembering those times, but pushes on anyway.

“So when we started fucking, it was different.” Her fingers tighten around the jacket. “It was fun. Well, sex is always fun, but it was funnier–”

“Funner.” You interject. Another elbow.

“Shut up.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, with you it’s sorta not like that. I actually want to fuck you because I–”

She licks her lips, a little embarrassed about what she’s going to say next even though you already know what she’s about to do anyways.

“–I love you and I know that I don’t say it too much and I knowIshouldbutlikeIdont–”

“Somi, breathe.” Your arm over her grips her shoulder, just enough to ground her back from her short crashout.

She leans back into your chest, hiding, whining, breathing. One last deep inhale, and she’s sitting back up.

“Okay, okay.” Somi exhales, shaking off any sort of fluster she has left. “I’m fine, good, chill.” A finger pokes your chest. “You really need to tell me what your perfume is.”

“If it lets you say ‘I love you’ more then I’ll get you an entire bottle.”

“Oh my God.” She laughs, hand over her face. “You are not gonna tell me the name aren’t you?”

“Maybe after the trip.” You shrug, chuckling yourself as you watch her laugh harder.

“Such a jackass.” She lets out, her laughter dying down. “Seriously though, you might think that I fuck you for shits and giggles like Aeri said you were thinking. And while I appreciate the fact that you did all this–” Her hand finds yours, soft, firm, assuring. You can feel the ring indent against your skin. “–I also appreciate you a lot more. So don’t you fucking doubt that, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” You smile, pecking her lips. “Love you.”

“...Love you too.” She smiles, hiding behind her hair this time. “Even if you won’t give me your damn perfume.”

“You are obsessed with finding out what it is.” 

“Yeah, and I am losing my fucking mind about it.” She’s back to cuddling you, your arm over her frame, dumb dopey little smiles on each of your faces. The small quiet moment passes, then—

“Sorry if I brought up exes, just–thought it was important.”

“You let me know I’m your best fuck. Nothing to be sorry about.” You get another light ribbing for that, but the giggle that comes out of her doesn’t deny your statement.

Something else was gnawing at you though.

“Did Aeri really rat me out?” You ask, scoffing, noting that you shouldn’t trust Aeri with any more secret trips. And maybe advice too.

Her eyebrows hike up. “What, because she let me know that you’re a closet Romeo in hiding?”

“I want to say that I’m more Han Solo than Romeo when it comes to romance.”

And the laugh that comes out of her sounded so genuine, so beautiful, so hers. “And I’m Princess Leia?”

“I mean,” You exaggerated, prolonging the word out in the air and making this face at her. “It’s better than being dead as Juliet. And Romeo too.”

She laughs harder, and you can’t help but get drawn into it too. It’s contagious, her energy, her teasing, her everything.

Eventually it dies down to small giggles and chuckles, and you’re back to having that comfortable silence with her. Then she stands up and turns to you, arm outstretched towards you. “Come on Romeo, still gotta get you something.”

“Are you trying to cheapskate by getting me a seashell?” A grin appears on your face as you let yourself be dragged away by her once more.

“Don’t forget about the fireworks.” She tosses over her shoulder, hurrying the both of you towards the sand, kicking off her shoes. You tug off your own, taking both pairs with you, leaving footprints down as you follow her into the grain.

The cold salty breeze of the sea hits you, and you see Somi waving to some of the people she passes by. Her hair flows down her back as the wind blows through, tilting her head back to feel the air, smiling as she closes her eyes. You wish you can take a photo of her because fucking hell is she beautiful.

Her head’s turning before you can, that familiar playful glint in her eye alongside a warmth that you’ve been craving for. So much so you’re unconsciously letting a smile break out of your face.

“What?” She asks, lips curling, as if she already knows where this is going. “Does Romeo have something to say?”

You don’t speak, only walk forward. Somi’s an arm’s length away when you drop your shoes onto the sand and take a hold of her, wrapping your arm around her waist, another resting on her cheek. She doesn’t pull away, if anything she leans into you, her own arms closing around your neck, and before you can act on kissing her, she’s pulling you instead.

Everything fades when her lips meet yours; All you can feel is how soft she is, the faint taste of fishcake and lemon hitting your tastebuds, her fingers threading around your hair. The way her cheek leans into your hand, the heat of her body molding to yours.

It’s different, not unlike every other kiss you’ve had with her. Desire, arousal, whatever you call it, it’s muted, replaced with warmth, joy, love. Less of a flicker and more of a flame, slowly gaining strength and settling within.

When she pulls away for air, the sight of her grinning is the first thing you see, breathless, eyes brighter than the shine of the moon. “Love you.” She utters, pecking your lips briefly, arms resting on your chest.

You only tilt your head, resting your forehead on hers, hands staying on her waist, keeping her close. You press your lips against hers, and it’s all the words she needs to feel how much you love her too.

A crack in the air splits the moment, making you turn your head to see bright lights in the air, the first wave of fireworks bursting into rainbows, crossing the dark skies.

“Told you this was the best view.” She says, eyes reflecting the colors in the clouds, the sounds of people cheering in the background muffled by all the cracking in the sky. 

You’re still holding her close as you watch the night get infected with the festival’s energy, each explosion painting the stars. The colors dance on the both of you—gold, crimson, azure—and you just can’t get enough of staring at her. 

“Ten out of ten.” You let out, no longer afraid of being caught by her. The smile on her face says she knows you’re talking about her, just like she did back at the festival. She doesn’t tease this time, accepting it instead.

Eventually the pauses between each wave of fireworks get longer, and you’re left with the sound of the waves crashing, the crowd splitting up into silent murmurs.

She sighs out, a small one, but you can feel the weight of everything leaving her. A laugh slips out, that familiar, joking little laugh with a hint of friskiness behind it.

“So,” A tug of your hand, and you’re heading back to the path out of the beach, passing by to pick up your shoes. “Wanna head back to the hotel and fuck all night?”

“Somi-”

“No, no.” She clarifies, swinging her arm and yours follow. “Romeo needs to realize that I love him. So I need to show him how much I do.”

…Oh.

There’s no teasing in there; Just pure honest resolve coming out. And when the words from before and now finally start to sink in, and your heart start to beat faster from the desire and the warmth that comes with all the implications of them. Physical, emotional, mental, spiritual.

Wasn’t just you thinking it’s all about fucking for her anymore. Not after that. You were just too wrapped up in your own thoughts to see the bigger picture. 

Maybe you did overthink things.

You don’t even feel her tugging you for a kiss, your name whispering out her lips. “I want this. I want you. No bullshit.”

And she means it. You believe her. With everything that she’s saying and doing and wanting and needing.

“I want you too. All of you.”

“Good.” She grins, and that was the brightest thing you’ve ever seen today. “Cause you’re not getting any sleep tonight.”

—

If there’s one thing that you didn’t regret paying for, it’s the hotel room. It wasn’t a suite or anything high-end nor was it any of the simple ones. It was the type after that, with the softer bed, the balcony view, a bigger TV—overall, just better.

So when you’re pushed down on the couch, Somi climbing on top of you, tongue shoved down your throat, you’re glad that the couch was pretty soft. You’re also glad that you can feel her tits pressing up against your chest when you kiss back.

She rolls her hips and gives your lower lip a bite that just fucks you up; She knows it too, when she grins and steals another kiss. Your hands rests on her waist, still rocking, grinding onto you. 

Somi’s everywhere; Resting on your shoulders, playing with your hair, slipping underneath your shirt. All the while her tongue is fighting yours, your own hands playing with the edges of her shirt.

You can feel your cock stirring, thickening underneath your pants, and it encourages her, keeping the slow pace that’s driving you insane.

“Someone’s enjoying this.” Her hands finally rest on your chest, face inches away from yours, that damn grin plastered on her face. She does it again, slower this time, and the sigh that comes out of her sounded like heaven on earth. Her grin widens, eyes flicking down to where you’re straining underneath your pants. “Really enjoying it.”

“Hey,” You squeeze a hip, smiling. “You fuck yourself on my lap like that, it’s kinda hard not to.” 

She hums, bringing your hands up to her tits, squeezing them over the shirt, molding them to be yours once more. You’ve felt her breasts so many times, through fabric, lace, bare, and you’ll never get tired of being able to have the privilege to cup them in your hands.

“God, Somi,” You groan, both from the way she’s forcing you to grope her chest—you’re into it as much as she is—and the way her hips are still rolling. She’s always been enthusiastic about sex, but this, this felt different. This is her offering everything, heart, body, and soul.

It wasn’t about her pleasure tonight. It was about yours.

“Does Romeo need help?” She asks, grinding, circling her weight down on you, making you squeeze harder on her tits. Intentional or not, she didn't care, all she does is let out another laugh because she knows you’re this close to throwing her to the bed.

She doesn’t wait for you to reply, take action, anything. Somi’s sinking down on her knees with this greedy, hungry look, her fingers making quick work of your belt buckle as she pushes your pants and your boxers down, your throbbing cock freed.

You know what’s going to happen; She’s done this so many times, she’s perfected the art of it. And you can’t wait.

“Fuck-” Somi licks her lips, wrapping a hand around you. She jerks you off slowly as she settles in between your legs, getting closer to your cock. You can feel her breath being so damn close. “Gonna worship you tonight baby.”

And the way she drags her tongue from the tip to the base in one agonizingly slow lick makes you wanna just, shit, you don’t even know. She was hot, wet, too damn slow, your cock twitching in her hand as she went back up to your head.

The next few minutes were her tongue tracing along your cock, leaving kisses where she knows you’re weak to, leaving your cock covered in spit, and she hasn’t even taken it in her mouth yet. 

She’s a damn tease, leaving you dying from the pleasure, arms gripping the couch as you let her do whatever she wanted with your cock. Her hands aren’t idle, stroking your spit-laden cock, playing with your balls, breathy little moans coming out of her mouth when she twirls her tongue on the tip.

You’re this close to begging, the need to thrust into her lips growing higher. But you won’t. Even though this is for you, it’s her play, and you’re here to enjoy the show.

You don’t even realize you called her name out, only that a smile appears on her face when she starts licking past the base of your cock and down to your balls. She takes one of them into her mouth, wetting them, her hot breath enveloping, encapsulating.

And the way she sucks on them, God it was like she wanted to kill you. Her tongue coating one, two, both, while her hands were playing with your shaft, jerking you, using her nails to trace the veins, thumbing the tip of your cock.

Somi’s a fucking menace, and she knows it. 

“Still alive?” She mutters, letting your balls go with a pop, sucking in her spit, drooling it all over your cock, making such a pretty mess of you.

“I need,” You’re desperate, panting, your own hands finding solace in her hair, resting, gripping, cock painfully wanting her mouth on it. You can’t even fucking talk, because this wasn’t pleasure, it was torture.

“Tell me.” She says, mouth hovering over your tip, letting out these pants that make your cock ache even more. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Somi-” You can’t. Not when she’s fucking teasing you with her tongue, running it all over your tip, those brown eyes darkening with a need for your cock, your words, your end.

“Come on, Romeo.” You can barely call it jerking off with how much she’s slowed her hands down. “You can do it.”

“Shit, need you-” You’re thrusting your hips, throwing away your pride to silently beg instead of telling her what you want.

“Just one word, baby.”

“Somi, please-”

And her mouth takes you. All of you.

You swear a bell rang out the moment her lips came into contact with your cock, because the only thing you can see is white, and she’s the angel that’s coming to bring you to Heaven.

Once she takes your entire length, she stops, holding you there inside of her throat. Her tongue’s flat under your shaft, trying to move and get a taste of your balls. You don’t know how long she’s had your cock in her mouth, and you don’t care. You already lost count when she got on her knees.

She pulls back, spit coating her chin, dripping down her shirt. Strings of them are still connecting her lips to your cock as she wraps them back into you, sucking on the tip, tongue working all over, and her hands are back to pumping you.

“So good,” She lets out, lips still making out with your tip, giving you a cheeky wink that is making you lose your fucking mind. She takes more of you, mouth so damn hot, cock drowning how it’s getting wetter, cheeks hollowing as she starts to suck.

You thought you were dying when it was just her tongue. You’re six feet under when she starts bobbing her head on your cock, and she isn’t just worshipping. Fuck that, this is murder. 

There’s no method to her madness. She’ll go with slow, shallow, deep strokes, memorizing every inch, every vein of your cock that makes your toes curl. Suddenly she ramps it up to eleven and fucks her face on your cock, burying you inside of her throat, bracing yourself by gripping her hair tighter. Or she’ll be doing it somewhere in-between, her tongue flicking the tip, hands jerking you, eyes staring into yours.

“You love this, don’t you.” It’s a statement, one she makes after she’s throated your cock. You can’t let out a response when she’s coming back down, lips making out with your tip instead of going back down to the base.

You’re losing your fucking mind. Every time you thought she’d settle into a rhythm, she switches it up, keeping you on your toes, lips grinning, tiny little giggles coming out of her while she’s giving your cock the best blowjob you’ve ever had.

“Fucking adore this cock.” Your cock’s pushing against her cheeks, giving you this one hell of a view. “And it’s all mine.”

Her eyes did not fucking help. Every flick of her tongue, stroke of her hand, bob of her head. Those dark eyes did not leave yours. She’s already ruined you for anyone else, but this is ruining you.

The only thing you can do is let out these weak groans, moans that were borderline begging, just trying to hang on to the ride she’s giving you.

“God–” She starts, spitting another batch of saliva down your cock, her entire face a mess with spit and . “I could do this all night.”

Somi loves it. You know she does. Relishing in it, thriving off of every flex of your leg, every twitch of your fingers, every thrust of your hips.

It’s fueling her, knowing that you’re letting her do anything she wants to you. It’s a goddamn power trip, and she lets you feel how much she’s enjoying you wrapped around her pretty lips.

The moans she’s letting out causing those vibrations to spread all over your cock. The gags that follow were fucking filthy, so wet, so raw. Her throat’s pulsing, contracting around you whenever she takes you down all the damn way. Every choke is a sign of victory that keeps her going, fingers digging your thighs, spit leaking down her mouth.

She pops off of your cock, sucking in a breath. You heard it differently. Messy, needy, undeniably Somi. She’s grinning as she comes back to sliding her tongue over your shaft, spit all over the place.

Somi was not lying when she’ll be worshipping your cock tonight. She’s staking her claim on you, letting you know that nobody else can do it like she can. She’s in the top 1 percent of sucking dick, and you’re extremely lucky to have met this whirlwind of a woman.

“Gimme.” She doesn’t bother asking if you’re close. She can see you’ve been wanting to burst ever since she put her lips on you. “Gimme all that cum, baby. I’ll take all of it. Mouth, face, anywhere you fucking want.”

“Somi–” You growl, teeth gritting, the urge to ruin her entire face with your load at an all time high. Your hands pull her hair, signaling where you want it. “Fa–shit, babe. All over your face.”

“Yeah?” Somi’s stroking you faster, eyes locking with yours, sticking her tongue out as she opens wide. She’s just as fucked as you were, hair all messy from the pushing and pulling you’ve done, strands of it sticking to her flushed cheeks, spit running down her chin.

She’s the filthiest she’s ever been on her knees, and all the nasty things she’s saying, every single word that comes out of her mouth, that sent you over the edge.

“Gonna ruin me? Cover me in your cum? Turn me into your cumdump–ah!”

You're all over her. On her forehead, over her eye, on top of her nose. She’s gasping, moaning, reveling in your cum. She’s getting messier, cum on her hair, her cheeks, her lips.

“Fuck yes,” She draws out, licking her lips, having a taste. “Always so much cum.”

It’s a damn shame you couldn’t commit the view to memory because all you can feel is how good it was when Somi’s jerking you off, covering herself in you. It felt even better when she shoves herself back down her throat, swallowing the last few drops.

You groan, feeling her cheeks hollow out one last time, draining you of the last few drops you let out. You finally get a good view of her after the fallout of your orgasm, and she is drenched in white, one eye closed, lips stretched in a smile even with your cock sandwiching them. 

She pulls your cock out of her lips, and she grins while you’re still sitting on the couch reeling from whatever the fuck that was.

“Oh my God,” You sear her cum-streaked face into your brain, her shirt wet from the spit and cum, because holy shit does she look shamelessly ecstatic with how dirty she is while you’re still remembering how to breathe. “You’re just–what the fuck?”

Somi laughs, tongue flicking out to catch a drop of cum sticking to her lips. Her fingers aren’t idle too, scooping up the cum and sucking them clean. “That’s one.”

“What, are we–” You adjust yourself, watching how she cleans herself up of your cum. Every stray, every glob of it lands on her mouth, and she’s enjoying it like it’s ice cream. “Are we keeping score?”

She smirks, hands dropping down to grip the hem of her shirt, and she’s pulling it over her head, landing somewhere behind her—you don’t care—showing a lacy black bra. 

“Round two?” The bra comes off too, and you’re left looking at two very convincing arguments to keep going.

Then she’s coming back down to your cock, giving you these lazy licks, cleaning you up, taking care of you. You consider it the third argument, your cock stirring, twitching back upwards.

“Come on, Romeo. My tits still need to be fucked.” She says, cupping said breasts, giving them a good squeeze. She leans down, letting a trickle of her spit fall down between them; You are so fucking screwed.

Somi’s pulling your hands to her tits, holding them over her hands. You already had a feel of them earlier, but God are they—she—the best you’ve ever held in your arms. 

“Relax, baby.” And she’s wrapping her perfect fucking tits around you, soft, warm, killer. “Just enjoy.”

She starts slow. Tits sliding up and down your cock, hands pressing around her chest. Yours, hers, it didn’t matter. She presses tighter, the pressure, pleasure, both increasing as every pump between them sends your already sensitive cock to another orgasm.

“Holy shit,” You groan, because it’s the only thing you can do. She has you wrapped around her finger, her tits, her tongue, which is occasionally licking your tip whenever it peaks and God, this is going to make you cum so damn fast.

“You can move, you know.” She’s even encouraging you to, letting out another glob of spit down her breasts, moving faster. “Fuck my tits, fuck them like you own them.”

And you do. You thrust up, once, experimental, and she slides down. Then another. Your hands settle on her shoulders. Another thrust. She squeezes tighter. The tempo goes faster.

“That’s it. Use my tits. Make a mess all over them. Want to feel it all in my tits, baby.” Somi’s riling you up again with all the dirty words that come out of her mouth. “Your slut wants more of your cum. Please. Please.”

Her shoulders are your lifeline, pumping faster, her tits bouncing with each stroke. She’s biting her lip, watching you—eager, hungry, devoted—fall apart under the slick, warm cushion of her breasts.

It’s all sending you closer to pumping another load onto her. Her tits, her face, her moans. It’s like you’re in a lucid dream with the way it all feels. Soft, tight, wet, it’s all too much for you, and that aching in your stomach is coming back too strong, too fast.

You’re so fucked out of your mind from earlier that your pace doesn’t last. Your rhythm stutters, and she picks up right where you left off, even faster than you did.

“Yeah, that’s it–” She’s gasping, her hot breath teasing you with every thrust. “Cum for me. Come on, baby, give me more.”

She puts her tongue back in the mix, leaning down to flick the head, and that makes you lose control.

Your hand takes a hold of her cheek as you give one last pump, hot spurts painting her chest, filling her cleavage, lining her collarbone.

Somi’s still fucking her tits on your cock, milking you for every last drop and you’re left shaking. Legs, hips, it didn’t matter. All you know is that you’re cumming for her, and her chest is your next canvas.

And when you’ve given her what she’s wanted, you’re slumping back, vision foggy, body suffering from the pleasure that Somi’s has brought before you. 

She’s grinning, giggling, laughing. Your cum’s all over her, dripping down, sticking onto her like glue, a pearl necklace fashioned over her. She’s licking the cum off her tits, scooping up the bits she can’t, having her second serving of your cum for the night.

She’s making a performance out of it, now and before, when she cleans herself up. Drawn out moans, hums, teasing little giggles. Eyes holding yours.

“So,” Somi takes a hold of your cock, lips on you once more, and it’s more painful than pleasurable this time. She’s still hungry for more and shit, you are too. Hungry for her.

“Shower?”

—

You didn’t even make it to the shower when you decided to pick her up, place her on the marble counter, pull her jeans down, and push her thong to the side. She was drenched, her pussy glistening, dripping in arousal. And you are starving.

Your mouth is on her pretty lips, tongue swiping everywhere. Teasing her slit with slow, teasing licks, fucking her entrance with your tongue, flicking her clit with your thumb. She’s trying to drown you with her juices, the taste of her so sweet and pungent.

“Keep going–fuck, right there–” She’s gasping, cursing, grinding on your mouth. Her soft thighs are wrapping around your face, pulling you deeper, nails digging into your scalp. The pleasure’s taking over her entire being, filth spewing out of her mouth.

You’re holding her thighs, forcing them apart before you start to fuck her with your fingers—two—while your tongue moves to flicking her clit. Her walls are squeezing them, tight, wet, hot.

“Oh my God,” Somi’s panting, watching you feast on her pussy, tracking the hand that gave her thigh a little slap—a warning—before you reach upwards to cup one of her tits, feeling how good it molds to your touch.

You pinch a bud just as you curl your fingers insider her, hitting her right where you know will fuck her up even more. And she does, moaning, squirming, trembling all for you.

“I’m so close–please, please, please–” Somi’s singing you praises, hips thrusting into you, wanting to chase that high that you’ve been holding her back from, edging her from achieving it.

Until you decided that she’s been a good enough girl for you and started pumping your fingers and your tongue faster. You grope her breast harder, watch her fall apart for you, her voice peaking, begging. Her pussy making these filthy noises with each thrust of your fingers.

You give her tit another greedy grope, and you raise your hand to give it a rough slap. That’s enough to send her spiraling, reeling, cumming.

“Fuck–fuck–fuck–” Somi’s shaking, thighs quivering, back arching as the pleasure consumes her. You’re fucking her all throughout it, sucking her clit. She’s dripping down your fingers, your chin, the counter.

“Shit, baby–” Somi’s pushing your head off, her own resting back onto the mirror behind her. Her legs are still twitching as you stand up, caressing them. “This payback from earlier or what–”

“A guy can’t eat his girlfriend out?” You peck her lips, one of your hands reaching up to cup her tits as the other is brushing up the inside of her thighs.

“Make that two and a half then.” She chuckles, and for a second there her eyes had this loving glint, layered with the normal teasing gleam in them.

“Now, seriously. Shower and then we make it three.”

—

“Cumming!”

Somi’s wrapping her legs around your waist, back against the glass, pussy tightening around your cock. Her chocolate hair is sticking on her face, wet from the warm water that was falling around your bodies.

Her toes are curling as you pound her throughout her orgasm, her arms pulling you tighter, moaning profanities into your ear while you readjust your grip on her ass and give her slow, deep thrusts to keep you from slipping under the tiles.

“Harder–fuck–fuck me harder–” Her pussy’s gushing around you, thighs shaking, holding onto you for dear life as you slowly start to thrust faster. “Want, want your cum inside–shit–”

You grunt as her nails start to dig into your back, burying your face into her neck, biting hard enough to leave marks. She whimpers, legs locking around you, pussy somehow squeezing you tighter, and it’s getting to you.

Her soft, big tits pressed against your chest, her sighs directly reverberating into your ears combined with the sound of wet flesh slapping together, pussy clenching everytime you hit her g-spot.

It’s making you want to go faster, harder, deeper. You’re getting desperate to chase your high, all because of Somi. 

“‘M close.” You groan just as she cries out, her pussy pulsing, another climax approaching her body. She pulls away from your neck to press her lips against yours—needy, loving moans humming out of her as she tangles her fingers into her hair.

And that was all it took to make you cum, slamming into her, spilling your cum deep inside, the ecstasy crashing over your body as you lean forward to have the shower glass support the both of you. 

Somi’s shaking, milking you of every drop, screams echoing around the bathroom as she experiences another wave of pleasure rippling her entire body. 

The sound of water falling and breathing is the only thing left filling the air, the both of you clinging to each other to bask in the afterglow.

“Fuck, Romeo.” She giggles, forehead pressing against yours. “First you go down on me, now this?”

“What can I say,” You nuzzle back into her neck, leaving a kiss over one of the hickeys you’ve left her. “You got me all worked up back on the couch.”

And she laughs, head tilting back, and even with the water blinding you she looks so beautiful.

—

Your hands were busy groping her soft, full ass when she straddles you, back facing your chest as she rubs her pussy on your length before she eases herself down. She’s taking all of you, pussy dripping, heat wrapping around.

“God, this cock,” She sighs, arching her back. “Still so hard for me.”

You’re loving the way her pussy’s clenching around you, taking your length every time Somi bounced that tight ass of hers. Your hold on her ass tightens when she starts to pick up speed, that rhythmic sound of skin hitting skin starting to permeate the air.

It’s a symphony of moans spilling out of lips, creaks of the bed underneath you, and wet slicks of her pussy gripping your cock playing in the room, and you had the best view in the house when she starts to roll her hips like that.

“Babe, what–what the fuck–” The next few seconds were spent spouting out the dumbest shit you’ve ever said in your life, because the moment she leaned forward and popped her ass out even more to fuck herself on your cock you were losing mental capacity by the second.

“Want it slow?” She slows down and turns her head to look at you. It’s torture hidden in paradise, the pace she’s bouncing almost stopping to a crawl. “Or fast?”

“Whatever you want, just, you–” You can’t help but crash your hand down on her ass, the smack rippling the air. Somi takes it the wrong—or right, who gives a fuck—way and starts to ride you, picking up right where she left off; Ruining you.

She’s unrelenting now, fucking herself on your cock, that hypnotizing ripple of her ass staring back at you, drawing you in, drowning you. From the way she’s moving her hips, hitting every deep spot inside her on every drop of her ass, the curses that she’s singing; It’s all so fucking devilishly heavenly.

Hands grip the sheets, holding on for dear life as she’s getting more and more unhinged with how she’s slamming down on you. One of them reaches up to her ass, that goddamn ass that looks so fuckable, you can’t stop yourself from sliding your thumb over her asshole.

“Y-Yeah?” She’s too lost in her own pleasure to give out any sort of decent reply, her voice coming out as whimpers and moans and cries of pleasure in between all of it. “Want, want my ass again don’t you Romeo–”

You push your finger in the entrance, and she starts to break.

“Oh shit–” She gets impossibly tight as she starts convulsing, toes curling, body falling, hips still fucking fucking. One last slam of her ass and she’s lost it, moans, whimpers, screams; All in a span of a few moments.

You take it as a sign to move. Leave another slap on her ass as you sit upright and pull her towards you, falling back down as you start to fuck her, chasing after your own orgasm, the want to give another coating of your load inside of her growing higher and higher.

Hands grab everywhere; Her tight stomach, heavy tits, her neck. You’re not letting her rest after her climax as you give her neck a little squeeze, her cunt clenching around you, and that makes you see stars.

She’s coming with you when she’s pulled for a kiss, sloppy and needy and so adoring. Tongues are fighting when you’re buried deep inside her, taking every single drop of hot white cum. She’s groaning, feeling all of you pour into her.

And when it ends, you’re both catching your breath, 

“You might end up killing me tonight.” She mutters, leaving these little pecks and kisses over your jaw, your cheeks, your lips.

“You’ll do me in first.” You reply, hands coming back down to wrap around her waist as you pull out, feeling your spunk leak out onto the sheets.

She giggles like she always does, leaving another kiss on your lips, cheeks flushing from uttering the next words that come out of her. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Somi.” You grin. Two simple words and you’re getting all giddy again. “Love you too.”

—

You two didn’t really stop.

There were breaks in between, of course. Get a glass of water, have short cuddly moments, make out sessions before she pulls you into another round. Or vice versa.

It’s a back and forth, really.

She drags you outside to rail her in the balcony, the cool air hitting the both of you as the view of the beach greets you. Somi’s loud, uncaring of the nearby rooms as you pump her cunt full of another load.

You have her head dangling off the side of the bed, fucking her face, lodging your cock down her throat. Spit’s running down her face as she takes every inch of you, trying—and failing—to finger herself in time with your thrusts while you’re holding onto her tits until she can drink all of the cum that you’ll inevitably feed her.

Somi’s shoving you back down the couch, cock up her ass as she rides you. Her tits are fucking hypnotizing, and you’re latching onto one of her buds, sucking, swirling, nipping. She’s crying out, shoving you deeper into her cleavage as you fill her ass.

You’re fucking her on top of the table, her back scraping the wood. She’s pulling your hands to her tits, giving one of them a slap before pinching her hard nub, another staying down to rub her clit. You leave a kiss on her forehead as you cum together.

She’s on top of you again—on the bed this time—as she grinds her hips, her walls gripping, pulsing around your cock. She took it slow, deliberate, teasing, enjoying how much you’re squirming underneath her. Her nubs are brushing against your chest as she locks lips with yours, all tongue, until your legs lock up and you’re cumming inside her.

The hotel was a complete mess by the time you two were done.

You ended up back on the bed, the both of you spent. Your cock is aching from the amount of times you came in the last few (How long were you two fucking?) hours while her cunt’s leaking all the cum you’ve dumped inside of her.

Somi’s draping an arm over your chest, her fingers tracing shapes on your skin. That ring you gave her never came off the entire night.

“Nine’s a hell of a record.” She smiles, curling up to you, breathing heavy from all the activities. “Best night of my life.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, playing with her hair. “Tell that to my dick.”

“I don’t hear you complaining.” She slaps your chest, light, teasing. “You loved it.”

“You’re not wrong.” You leave a kiss on her forehead. “I do.”

“Love you too.” She smiles, reaching up to give you a kiss. She’s warm, that tingly feeling rising out of your stomach. You’re both grinning into the kiss, slow, deep, hands cupping her face, hers resting on your chest.

The next few minutes were spent talking about the random things that crossed your minds.

Shit like showers—

“We’re gonna need another shower.” 

“I’m too sore.”

“I can probably carry–”

“...I take it back. I can’t move either.”

Getting Aeri back for ratting you out—

“You seriously think Aeri would hook up with him of all people?”

“I mean, they kinda already did.”

“What the hell, since when?”

“The night after they fucked–”

“Don’t be a smartass, Romeo.”

The plans tomorrow—

“We’re hitting the beach tomorrow.”

“You just want to see me in a bikini.”

“And maybe dunk you in the water. But yeah. Bikini.”

Somi being a lovingly clingy idiot for the first time—

“Love me.”

“I am loving you.”

“You’re not doing it enough.”

It was dumb, pointless, and sorta ironic. From the quiet moments that you wanted and the copious amounts of sex you tried to avoid, it felt oddly worth it.

And it was just the first day. You don’t know whether you should be jumping for joy or scared for your life.

But you can’t say that you can ask for anything else—

“Wanna have another go to round it up?”

“Somi–”

Now, if there is such a word that combines happiness and fear, that would be what you’re feeling right now.

Still worth it.

[misshuntereevee]

The Winner Takes it All, part 1.

( part 2 is out now. )

Synopsis: You look like the MC, and you actually remember bits and pieces of the myth (not all.) But MC finally shows up, with no memory, and Sylus can’t help but be drawn in. What will happen?

Note: I haven’t written anything in like a month so go easy on me 😅 I also am not beta-read, I just need Sylus simping and begging for forgiveness…

—

Two years ago. The little reminder flits across the screen.

But nonetheless, you sit in your shared apartment -- alone with a glass of wine. No missed calls, no texts.

You weren’t sure when it started. Probably the first time he saw her. She looked just like you. You — just like her. You didn’t think anything would shake how Sylus saw you. His princess. But she obviously did. He found himself torn -- were you his sorceress? Or was this woman?

When you do finally get a message from Sylus, it’s enough to make your heart drop. “I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up.”

No mention of the anniversary. Being sneaky, you decide to tap and see where he is. Linkon? Another few tabs and you see the feed of a sidewalk -- with him and Miss Hunter chatting. Your eyes close, your fingers rubbing the bridge of your nose. You feel your hands tighten around the stem of your wine glass until it shatters. You didn’t even feel the glass dig into your skin -- just the blood trickling down your wrist.

She’s wearing your smile. The smile that you give him. And he’s looking at her like she’s you. And as your doppelganger, she’s probably close.

As you treat your wound, you can’t help it. Tears overflow as blood washes out into the porcelain sink.

You’d promised yourself after how your father treated your mother that you’d never let yourself feel this way. Unloved. Don’t get you wrong -- if it had been this once, you probably wouldn’t have cared. But the fact of the matter -- this is the third time. You’d been keeping count.

So you call.

Once. No answer.

Twice. No answer.

By the third unanswered call, your hands tremble. The broken wine glass sits untouched beside you, the clock ticking in mockery. You stare at the phone screen, willing his name to appear, but nothing. Just silence. The kind that suffocates. The kind that makes decisions for you.

“If I’m not your little bird, then fine,” you say, grinding your teeth. You make one more call, this time to your best friend. She answers on the second ring and it’s not long before you’ve made your decision -- you’re leaving.

* * *

He’d call you as soon as he dropped her off.

He promised himself that. And while Sylus had a great memory, he suddenly had a nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. But he ignores the phone in his pocket as he listens to the woman next to him. Miss Hunter.

He can’t lie and say he doesn’t feel the attraction. But what happened? Why was she here if you were too? And which one was his princess? Which one was the one he was bonded to? He’d never had this linkage bond with you -- no, that only happened with this hunter. That…looked exactly like you.

The phone is ringing again, and Miss Hunter tilts her head. “Aren’t you going to answer that? Might be one of your henchmen.” She teases.

So he glances -- seeing your name, his fingers hover over the screen before pushing decline. “It’s not important right now.” And he shoots the simple text: Don’t wait up.

Walking her upstairs, Miss Hunter turns to face him. “Well, thanks for the ride… maybe you aren’t the monster everyone says you are.”

His lips stretch up in a smile. The words make him feel warm -- the way that for the longest time only you could do. “Careful, kitten. I might think you're softening up on me.”

“Never,” is all Miss Hunter says, before disappearing into her apartment.

He’s almost on his motorcycle when he gets another call. He answers it without looking, convinced it’s you again. “Hello, my little bird,” his voice says softly. The familiarity is settling in now that he knows he can talk to you -- something absent with Miss Hunter. In a way, he can recognize that Miss Hunter will never be able to give him that. But he has to know why she’s here. Why does she exist when you’re right there?

But it’s not your voice that replies. “Oh -- no, it’s Luke, boss. I thought you and the Missus were out on your anniversary date. I was calling --”

Sylus’ grip on his handlebars tightens. “What?” he nearly growls. The blood in his veins turns ice-cold. His knuckles go white, the rich and expensive leather groaning under the pressure. His breath catches in his throat, heart slamming against his ribs. He forgot. Fuck, he forgot. The realization crashes into him like a freight train, knocking the air from his lungs.

“Oh, I just saw the date on your calendar --”

“I’ll call you back,” he snarls.

Sylus knows as soon as he gets past the second ring that you aren’t going to pick up the phone. You never let it ring longer than that. But just in case, he waits until you let it go to voicemail. And then he calls again. And again. If he was a normal man, he’d be a little embarrassed to call so much -- but he wasn’t normal and he didn’t care.

By the tenth call, he’s gripping the device tightly. “'Pick up. Please, my little bird. Pick up.” The call goes to voicemail. Again. His chest tightens. He feels it now—the absence of you. And for the first time, he's truly afraid.

And for a moment, he wondered if he’d panic this much if it was Miss Hunter who was upset. Would he be upset if she was mad at him? Finally, he leaves a message: “Little bird, call me please. You know we need to talk about this.”

You’ll call him back with that. He was almost certain. But as he got closer and closer to your shared apartment, it became clear that you weren’t going to call. And all it did was give him time to think. And he came to the conclusion that you had every right to be pissed.

But he had no idea how pissed you were until he unlocked your shared front door -- and it’s all gone.

Not the furniture, no. But your favorite cardigan by the door? Gone. Your mail slot? Your name was ripped off, and only Sylus’ remained. The further he got into the apartment, the more he noticed was gone. Your brush, your blankets. Each missing item was a knife in his heart.

“Little bird?” He called out, holding onto a shred of hope before noticing a note on the bed. His red eyes narrow, stepping softly toward it.

And the words are enough to make him ball the note into a crumbled mess, and throw it against the wall with a snarling yell:

Sylus,

I don’t know how to write this. But as the weeks have passed since you met my doppelganger, I’ve realized there’s really nothing I can do to compete with myself. I thought our history was enough -- but I guess I can’t win against fate. My only wish is you would have let me know before I dug my claws in.

Like you’d know, my dragon, it hurts to pull them back out. And it hurts even more to see the open wound I left -- I am not sure if it will stop bleeding out.

Take care of yourself,

Your Little Bird

Y/N

The words you wrote echo in your voice in his head. He could see the teardrop stains marking the paper. Little scratch marks -- like you hesitated. And he’s hit with the feeling -- maybe if he’d just answered sooner, he could have stopped this.

And -- how stupid could he have been to pay so little attention that he missed your anniversary? And how stupid was he for still feeling conflicted about Miss Hunter?

But the strongest feeling was this: he needed to see you again. The possibility of not seeing you again… that was enough to make him never visit Linkon again.

* * *

It’s been two weeks since you left. You weren’t from the N109 Zone and you weren’t from Linkon -- so he’d crossed that off his list. But you weren’t in your hometown either. Sylus rode his motorcycle through your old stomping grounds -- and it brought him some comfort to be here. In your home -- since you’d fled the one you’d shared together.

His phone rings -- Miss Hunter.

And surprisingly -- he doesn’t answer.

Because a better notification comes up from Luke and Kieran.

“Hey, Boss! We’ve got sightings of Madam over in Brighton,” they say, happy to give him some sort of good news. Because the last few weeks -- Sylus has been downright vicious in his hunt to find you. To tell you sorry.

“Brighton? Interesting. Send me the coordinates,” he says. The location is a cafe. It’s filled with books, magazines-- all your favorites. That part made sense. There’s slight relief in his thoughts. Knowing where you were was better than not knowing. If you were in Brighton, then you were probably safe. Alive. And not under Ever’s thumb somewhere.

You’re safe. That’s what matters. That’s what he keeps telling himself as he watches you laugh at a cashier’s statement —like nothing is wrong, like the past two years meant nothing. You’re alive. You’re fine.

But the longer he looks -- it’s enough to make him murderous.

It’s the cashier you’re speaking with. You’re laughing…you’re happy. ayou hadn’t smiled like that at him since Miss Hunter arrived… Realistically, anyone could say it was innocent, but now --

He should be the one making you laugh. He should be the one paying too. Jealousy doesn’t come easy to Sylus -- but right now -- he’s understanding how you felt the last few weeks with Miss Hunter. But unlike you -- he thinks to himself as he puts the kickstand on his bike down -- he’s not afraid to step in.

If you thought two years would disappear like that -- you’re wrong. And he’ll prove it. (He has to.)

Please like/reblog for part 2! I am not sure how much I love this or not yet, so let me know if you do. Comments are appreciated but not required. 🫶🏻

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 48: Wild Times

Summary: Things begin changing between you and your pack as someone says goodbye.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,518 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, smut, anal sex, oral sex, handjobs, cockwarming, teasing, lots of kissing, language, slight dom/sub dynamics, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alternate universe, emotions, slight angst

A/N: I wrote this in like two days so forgive me if it sucks

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“How do you feel?”

“Good. I feel really good.” You say honestly.

“Good. You’ve come a long way and I’m very proud of you for the progress you’ve made.” Dr. Keller says. The two of you are sitting out on the back porch. It’s a nice day, the sun out after a few days of rain and clouds.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to tell me something.” You say, staring at her. She almost looks nervous, the professional facade cracking just a little bit. Just enough that you can tell something is going on.

“I do have something I need to tell you.” She says after a moment. “You’ve come a long way, you’ve overcome hurdles and grown so much in the time that I’ve known you. I’m so very proud of you, but...I’m not sure how much more I can do for you now.”

You expected this was coming. With your life turning around as it has recently, with the growth between you and your pack and your healing after the ordeal, you knew there would come a time when Dr. Keller would leave. There’s no point to her staying here with you, now that Shepherd is gone and things have calmed down.

“Things are going to change here soon,” she continues. “And I’m not sure how much more you’re going to need me for. You’re doing so well and your pack has improved so much over these last few weeks. I’m so very proud of all of you and the work you’ve put in. I think you’re ready to graduate from needing an omega specialist.”

You try to fight the tears gathering in your eyes. You don’t want her to go. As much as you understand and you know, you don’t feel like letting her go yet. You’d cling to her forever if you could, but you know that’s all the more reason for her to go now. She’s done more than she should have, more than she needed to and no doubt she’s feeling that need to move on as well. It makes your stomach ache, but at the same time, you understand.

“I don’t feel like I am,” you say honestly. “But at the same time I know it’s not fair to keep you here. You’ve done so much for us, for me, and...and I want you to know that I’m forever grateful for that.”

“I know.” She says, giving you a smile. Despite it there’s a sadness in her eyes. She has to be torn about this too. The two of you have bonded so much in the year that you’ve been seeing her. It hurts breaking that bond, but at the same time, it’s a necessity. “I’ll always be here for you, but I have to move on to other things.”

“Where are you going to go?” You ask, trying not to cry. You’ve never been good at goodbyes. It’s probably the trauma.

“I’ve accepted a position in Exeter at a clinic.” She says.

“Exeter as in close to Ashley?” You give her a knowing look.

That bashful look crosses her face again, and for the first time she breaks eye contact, looking down at her lap.

“I’m happy for you,” you continue. “I really am. Technically if the two of you get together you’ll be extended family.”

She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re not wrong.” She looks back up at you, smiling softly. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”

“I knew it was coming, in a way.” You say. “It would happen eventually. Things really are changing and now that Shepherd’s gone...there’s nothing holding us here. We’ll have to return to the real world eventually. As much as I’d like to be selfish, I know there’s other omegas out there that deserve to have your help.”

She reaches out, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “You’ve always been so sweet, so caring. I’m honored I got to serve as your omega specialist. I am so very proud of you and I always will be.” She squeezes your hand harder. “You have my number. You need anything you call me, okay?”

You nod, tears blurring your vision despite your fight to hold them back. “Yeah. I will.”

“Good.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, tears welling in hers as well.

You reach over, pulling her into a hug. It probably breaks some sort of doctor/patient boundary, but after everything the two of you have been through, you’re willing to break past that realm of professionalism.

You breathe in her comforting scent one last time, burying it in your memories. You’ll always remember her and what she did for you, the ways she helped you overcome the lies drilled into your head, how she helped you grow into your own person. She kept you alive, helped you heal from a traumatic event. She kept you sane, helped you realize just how powerful you truly are and that you shouldn’t be afraid of your pack and taking charge.

You’ll be forever grateful for having her in your life.

“Take care of each other.” Dr. Keller says, standing next to the car. “I don’t want to get any calls with bad news.”

“We’ll do our best.” John says, his arm around your waist.

She looks over your pack before nodding. “Some part of me doesn’t want to believe you, but a bigger part of me knows you’re telling the truth.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done.” John says, his grip around you tight. “We are forever in your debt.”

Dr. Keller smiles, it’s a sad smile, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “I was just doing my job.”

“You did more than that.” Kyle says. “Far more.”

Dr. Keller stands there for a moment before nodding. “I suppose so. I wouldn’t take any of it back, though.” She looks over you once more, her eyes pausing in you for a long moment.

“We’ll take good care of her.” John says, his arm sliding from your waist to wrap around your shoulder. “If not, we give you full rights to come back and take her from us.”

Dr. Keller gives him a pointed look. “I’ll hold you to that.” She opens the car door, letting out a heavy breath. “You have my number. Don’t hesitate to call. Good luck to you and whatever is coming next.”

“Best of luck to you as well.” John nods.

“Say hi to Ashley for me.” Kyle grins.

Dr. Keller rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” She gives you one last smile. “Take care. I’ll be here if you need me.”

You watch as she gets into the car, John’s grip around you tightening just a little. Tears start to blur your eyes as you watch the car disappear down the road until it’s out of sight. Two goodbyes in such a short amount of time has you feeling devastated, but at the same time, you know it’s for the best. It’s not like it’s forever. You’ll likely see both Dr. Keller and your family again in the future.

Yet you can’t deny the ache in your chest at watching them go.

John kisses the top of your head, his hands squeezing your arms. “You alright?” He murmurs against your hair.

You stand there for a moment, staring down the road before you nod. “Yeah. I will be.”

“How are you holding up?”

“Fine.” You shrug, marking your place in your book.

“It’s a big change.”

“I knew it was coming.” You shrug again, setting your book on your nightstand.

Kyle sinks down onto your bed, laying himself down against your pillows. “It’s okay to not be okay about this.”

You let out a sigh. “I mean, it’s sad that she left, but at the same time I’m happy she’s getting to go do what she wants now and is getting to help other omegas that need it. They’ll be lucky to have her. Ashley is lucky to have her.”

“They are a good couple.” Kyle says, reaching for your hand.

“Big power couple vibes.” You say, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m glad Ashley is part of the family. Your sister is an absolute angel.”

Kyle snorts. “You should have seen her growing up.”

“Everyone was a terror growing up.” You say, letting him pull you closer.

“Imagine Johnny as a kid.”

You both make a face, imagining the high-strung beta as a pup.

“No thanks.” You say, resting your head against his chest.

“You sure you’re alright?” He asks, wrapping an arm around you.

“Yeah. I will be.” You say. “It’ll take some getting used to, not having a personal therapist in the house.”

“We can get you a new one.” He says, patting your back.

“I think I’ll be okay.” You reach up, cupping his cheek. “You’re so sweet, caring about me like this.”

“Well, Christine has been a big part of your life for the last year.” He shrugs. “Just making sure you’re gonna be okay once she’s gone.”

“I’ll be fine. Just get ready to hear about my problems a lot more than you have been.” You grin.

“Oh good.” He playfully rolls his eyes.

“Rude.” You giggle, squeezing his side to tickle him.

“Hey!” He shouts, wiggling to try and get away from your hands.

Despite his size advantage you pull up a hazy memory of your training with Simon, wrapping a leg around his waist to force him over onto his back. You wind up sitting on top of him, your fingers dragging along his stomach to continue tickling him. He continues to laugh, playfully batting at your hands.

You wrap your fingers around his wrists, pinning them to the bed by his head. You lean over him, staring down at him as you pin him to the bed. He could easily get out of this, use his weight against you to force you up but he doesn’t, instead laying there limp under you.

“I quite like this angle.” He says, his eyes hooded as he stares up at you.

You smirk, leaning closer to him. “I’m sure you do.”

His arms flex under your hands, a reminder that he could easily flip the script and put you in this position. He doesn’t though, almost too happy to be pinned to the bed under you.

You lean down even further, your breath mingling with his. He tilts his head up, trying to kiss you but you hold back, not letting him have the satisfaction. His bottom lip puckers in a pout as you deny him what he wants.

“Been a long time.” He murmurs, pushing against your hands.

“For you maybe.” You say, but you can’t deny the warmth starting to pool in your stomach. It hasn’t been long for you, but it’s been a long while since you’ve been with the other members of your pack. You miss them. You miss all of them.

“Don’t mean to interrupt.”

Your head snaps to the side, looking back towards the door at the new voice. Simon stands there, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. His brows are raised, eyes trailing over you and Kyle.

He stays there for a moment before pushing off the frame, his steps slow as he approaches the bed. Neither you nor Kyle move, frozen there as the alpha stalks towards you. He looks like a hungry animal that’s caught its prey right where he wants it.

His hand is warm as it drags down your back, fingers pausing just above your tailbone. His other hand cups Kyle’s chin, fingers holding his jaw. “Pretty in’t he?” Simon mumbles, brushing his thumb across Kyle’s lips before pressing it between them.

Kyle parts his lips, taking Simon’s thumb into his mouth. You watch as he sucks on the appendage, still pinning him down on the bed. Simon’s hand slips beneath your pants, cupping your ass over your underwear as he leans in closer to you.

“What were you planning?” He murmurs into your ear, lips brushing the delicate skin. “A quickie before lunch? Like a couple of naughty pups?”

“Maybe.” You say, pushing back against his hand.

“Maybe?” He smirks. “Should have locked the door then.”

His teeth sink into your earlobe gently, and you can’t stop the shiver that runs down your spine. He pulls his thumb from Kyle’s mouth, trailing it down over his chin and his throat. His other hand sinks lower, fingers pressing between your legs.

“She likes this, you know?” He says to Kyle, feeling the dampness in your underwear. “Pretending to be dominant.” His hand closes around Kyle’s throat, fingers flexing just a little. “Then again, so do you.”

He pulls Kyle up to sit, forcing you to drop back into his lap. He’s hard, pressing between your thighs as you’re pushed up against his chest. Simon’s hand slips around to the back of Kyle’s neck, holding him in place.

“Just a couple of pretty pups playing pretend.” Simon says, glancing between you before leaning in to Kyle.

Your lips part as they kiss, Simon’s tongue sliding into Kyle’s mouth. Kyle moans, the sound vibrating through you. It’s a beautiful sight, watching them kiss. You hadn’t put much thought into them together before, even though you know it has happened in the past. They always seem to gravitate towards their respective mates naturally. The ideas floating around in your head have you gushing into your panties.

You let out a little whine of your own, hips pressing down against Simon’s fingers still resting between your legs. You’re getting wetter and wetter as you watch them kiss, Simon devouring Kyle’s mouth, all tongue and teeth as he teases the beta.

The sight has you clenching your thighs around Kyle’s hips, more slick gushing into your panties and wetting Simon’s fingers.

Simon hums against Kyle’s lips, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip before pulling back just slightly. “I think she likes it.”

Kyle groans, pushing his hips up against you. Simon presses his hand down, grinding it against the bulge in Kyle’s pants.

“I think you both like it.” Simon pushes Kyle’s head closer to yours and you get the memo, closing the distance to kiss him.

Simon lets out a breath as he watches the two of you kiss, his fingers stroking you through your panties. His scent is strong in the air, mixing with the scent of arousal wafting off of you and Kyle.

“Look at you.” he murmurs. “The two prettiest members of the pack together. What a sight.”

Kyle’s tongue flicks against your own, mimicking what you know he’s capable of doing to your pussy. You can’t stop the moan that sneaks out, Kyle swallowing the sound as he kisses you.

Simon hums before pulling his hand from your pants, wrapping that arm around your waist before lifting you off of Kyle. You let out a loud whine in protest as you’re pulled apart, struggling against him but he’s stronger than you. Kyle catches himself before he drops backwards as Simon lets him go, lifting you to your feet as he rises to his.

“Time for lunch.” He says, still holding you as you struggle against him.

“No fair!” You whine, going dead weight against him to try and slip out of his hold.

He chuckles, still holding you up easily. “Be a good girl and I’ll let you sit on his face later.”

You pause, thinking it over for a moment before pushing yourself up to stand straight. “Okay.” You slip out of his grasp, heading for the door and out into the living room.

Both John and Johnny look up as you come out of the room, no doubt the scent of your arousal strong in the air. There’s probably a cocktail of scents wafting through the door: yours, Kyle’s, and Simon’s.

Johnny sets down the bag of chips in his hand before bee-lining to you, nearly colliding with your body as he frantically presses his face into your neck.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” He groans, his hands dropping to hold your ass as he keeps you pressed against his chest.

Your body flushes as his tongue laves over your skin, licking up every drop of scent he can from your gland. A quiet sound leaves your lips as he sinks his teeth into your skin, almost like he’s trying to drink the scent of your arousal directly.

It’s almost too much after the stimulation you just received from Simon and Kyle. You could cum in your pants just like this, with Johnny’s hands gripping your ass, his boner poking you in the hip. He’ll probably cum in his pants if he keeps this up.

Johnny lets out a groan as a hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling him away from you. You stumble as he tries to pull you, but his hands release your ass before you can fall. John holds him back, leaning over his shoulder as he scruffs the beta.

“None of that.” He chastises Johnny. “We have lunch to eat.”

“Fuck sandwiches,” Johnny groans. “Lay her out on tha table. Let me feast.”

“We spent all this time making a nice lunch and we’re going to eat it.” John says, releasing Johnny. “Now take a seat.” He pushes Johnny towards the table with a slap to his ass.

Johnny grumbles but acquiesces, making his way to his seat at the table.

John steps up to you, staring down at you intensely. Despite his insistence on the moment ending, you glimpsed the small bulge in his pants. You’re tempted to touch it, drag your hand across the denim to tease him, but you’re caught in his gaze. His hand lifts to your face, thumb tracing over your lips. You part them slightly, but he pulls away, crossing his arms as he stares down at you.

“Can you behave?” He asks.

No. You wouldn’t mind being spread out on the table for them to enjoy. But you know that’s not the answer he’s looking for. “Yes.” You nod.

“Good.” He turns you towards the table, sending you to your seat with a pat on the ass.

He turns to Simon and Kyle, both of them moving to their seats wordlessly.

Lunch is filled with a tense silence. You’re glad Dr. Keller has left with the way all five of your scents are thick in the air. It’s heavy with arousal, no doubt all four men sporting hard-ons under the table. The thought of sliding under there to suck them off one by one is tempting, but you’ll get in trouble. Not that punishment wouldn’t be worth it, but you’ll be good today.

At least for now.

Simon makes good on his promise.

Kyle’s lips are wrapped around your clit, suckling on the sensitive bud as you grind down against his face, hands braced on his chest. Simon has him nearly folded in half, tongue wrapped around yours as he snaps his hips against Kyle’s ass.

“Fucking hell.” Simon groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip as he thrusts hard into Kyle. Kyle moans against your clit, making your legs squeeze tighter around his head. “Make her cum and I’ll let you.” Simon grunts, his hand wrapped around the base of Kyle’s cock.

Kyle swirls his tongue around your clit before taking it between his lips again, sucking it hard. You’re already close from how long you’ve been here, perched over his face. He’s close too, hard and almost pulsing in Simon’s hand. Simon hasn’t let up once, fucking into him hard and fast. There’s sweat beaded across all of your bodies, sliding down your faces, dripping onto skin.

God it’s been so long.

“C’mon.” Simon grunts, holding himself back as well.

“Fuck,” You whine, legs shaking around Kyle’s head as he sucks hard on your clit, nipping at the sensitive bud with his teeth. You grind down against his mouth, his tongue swirling around your clit before he sucks on it one last time.

You cum, gushing all over his face with a cry.

Kyle moans against your pussy, licking up every drop of your juices as your nails sink into his chest.

“Good boy.” Simon praises, finally releasing Kyle’s cock. He lifts Kyle’s hips, changing the angle at which he’s thrusting into the beta. “Cum for me.”

Kyle’s body trembles, his hands tightening around your thighs as he gets closer and closer to the edge. You lean over, reaching down to grip his cock in your hand. He groans louder, twitching in your hand as you pump his cock in time with Simon’s thrusts.

It doesn’t take him long to cum, spurting against your hand and his stomach as he moans so beautifully. Simon curses, hands tightening around Kyle’s hips before he cums as well, spilling into Kyle’s ass.

You gather his cum on your fingers, sitting up on Kyle’s chest before bringing your fingers to your lips. You hold eye contact with Simon as you take them into your mouth, cleaning Kyle’s cum off your skin. Simon’s eyes are dark as he watches you, following the path of your tongue as it licks the viscous liquid off your hand.

His hand sinks into your hair, pulling you close to his mouth before kissing you. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking at the remnants of Kyle’s cum on your tongue. You moan into his mouth, pressing closer to him. He kisses you for a moment before pulling away, pushing you over to the side.

You roll unceremoniously to the side, watching Simon lean over Kyle. His face is still shiny with your juices, Simon’s tongue darting out to lick a stripe from his chin to his lips. Your lips part as you watch Simon clean your slick off of Kyle’s face, Kyle panting into the kisses. Warmth starts to pool in your stomach again as you watch them, lips parting slightly. They make such a pretty couple, Simon’s rough hands and Kyle’s malleable nature.

“Think she’s feeling left out.” Simon murmurs against Kyle’s lips.

Kyle turns his head, Simon kissing down his throat. He reaches out, wrapping an arm around you before pulling you closer. You wind up snuggled against his side, immediately leaning in for a kiss. Kyle kisses you, a hint of your own taste still on his tongue, along with a hint of Simon. It’s an intoxicating cocktail, almost as intoxicating as the scents in the air.

Oh god how you’ve missed this.

Simon watches the two of you for a moment before getting up, Kyle moaning as he slips out of his ass. Kyle’s arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against his chest as he continues to kiss you.

Simon returns with a rag, wiping down Kyle and between your legs before disappearing back into the bathroom for a moment. Kyle rolls to his side, pulling away from your lips as he slips an arm beneath your head. He stares at you, his eyes roving over your face for a moment.

“Hi.” He breathes, a small smile pulling at his lips.

You can’t help but grin back. “Hi. Feeling better now?”

He hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Much better. Missed you so much.”

“Me or my pussy?” You smirk.

Kyle pretends to think for a moment. “Both. Definitely both.”

“I’ll try not to keep you waiting so long next time.” You say, resting your head against his bicep.

“Blue-balled us all.” Simon says, coming around the other side of the bed. He lays down behind you, tossing the sheet over your bodies.

“Sorry,” You hum, getting comfortable between them.

“Working backwards this time.” Kyle says, draping his arm across you to reach Simon. “Poor John has to be last.”

“He’ll be fine.” Simon grunts. “Johnny’s probably got his dick down his throat right now.”

You let out a noise at the mental image that flashes through your head. Johnny on his knees, that needy look in his eyes, face flushed as his mouth spreads wide around John’s cock.

Simon chuckles darkly, his hand resting on your hip at your shift in scent. “Like that, do you?”

“Can’t help it.” You murmur, rubbing your legs together. “He’s just so...fun to play with.”

“He’s our favorite toy.” Simon says.

A thought crosses your mind. Johnny on his knees in front of the three of them, taking turns as he goes down the line.

You lick your lips. “Have you ever…”

“Course.” Simon grunts. “Lots of times.”

“Oh.” You blink, staring at Kyle’s chest as you think it over. Of course they’ve all been together at the same time. Why wouldn’t they? “Would...would you ever...with me?”

Kyle hums. “If you wanted to. It’s a lot all at once though.”

“Think I can’t handle it?” You say, your omega starting to stir, though you’re not sure if it’s the idea of being surrounded by them or the insinuation against your strength and stamina.

Kyle shrugs. “I don’t know. Do you think you could?”

Could you? You’ve never really thought about it that hard before. Sure the fantasy has been there, but the reality? The admin behind making it work…

“Don’t know.” You say, curling in on yourself. “Never been in an orgy before.”

“You’d never had sex before you joined our pack.” Simon reminds you.

“Now look at me.” You say, rolling onto your back, tits out above the blanket. “You’ve properly corrupted me.”

Simon growls low in his chest, his hand sneaking under the blanket to rest right below your breasts. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?” you tease. “You destroyed my innocence? Corrupted me into a needy little omega desperate for alpha cock?”

You can feel his cock start to stir again against your hip as his hand slides up, fingers closing around your nipple and tugging.

“Careful,” he warns you. “You’re getting yourself all worked up again.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “What are you going to do about it?”

He grunts, laying there for a moment before he slips his hand under your shoulder, turning you over onto your side against Kyle’s chest. “Stay.” He commands before moving behind you, the bed dipping as he rolls.

Kyle watches him over the top of your head, and you hear the snap of a lid. A few seconds pass before Simon rolls back over, shoving the blanket down before two wet fingers prod at your pussy. Kyle lifts your leg up as Simon slips them into you, pumping them a couple times to lube your walls before pulling his hand free. You lay there as he saddles up right against your back, the head of his cock pressing against your hole.

You gasp as he pushes in, the lube aiding as he presses his hips until they’re flush with your ass. He stills there, his cock seated inside your pussy.

“Keep that in there all night and I’ll put your knees up by your ears tomorrow.” He grunts before settling behind you.

“Well how am I supposed to sleep now?” You whine, clenching around his cock.

“Figure it out.” He murmurs, his breath fanning the top of your head.

“Fuckin’ still at it.”

“They’re young.”

“Christ almighty.” Johnny groans, shifting in his seat. “Feel sorry for the poor hen.”

“Why?” John snorts. “Sounds like she’s enjoying herself quite a bit.”

A loud, keening moan sounds through the wall, paired with a rough slam of the headboard.

“Gonnae put a hole in the wall.” Johnny grumbles, sipping his coffee.

“We can fix that easily.” John says, taking a bite of his toast. “Surprised Simon didn’t make several during her heat.”

Johnny huffs. “Thought he did a few times.”

Another long, drawn out moan sounds, an echoing deeper one following.

“There she goes.” John says, the house falling silent.

“Think it’s over?” Johnny asks.

John nods. “Most likely. I doubt they’d push it much further so early.”

“For our sakes I hope yer right.” Johnny grumbles.

A few moments later the door opens, a proud looking Kyle making his way out of the room. The scent of musk, sweat, and sex follows him reaching their noses quickly. Johnny lets out a quiet sound, nearly a whine at the rich scent.

“Screamin’ fuckin’ Jesus.” Johnny groans. “Did ye kill her?”

“She’s fine. Be out as soon as her legs stop shaking.” Kyle smirks.

Johnny spouts out a curse none of them quite understand as Kyle makes his way to the kettle for some tea.

“What’s for breakfast?” Simon asks, appearing through the half open door to your room. He’s bare chested and looking quite proud of himself.

“Oh yeah, ye come out here peacockin’ expecting a Full English laid out?” Johnny snaps.

Simon smirks. “What, pouting because you didn’t get to join in?”

“Woulda been easier if I didnae have tae listen to it!” Johnny fumes.

“You could have stayed upstairs.” Simon smirks, approaching his fired up beta. “I think you’re just upset you got left out.” Simon cards his fingers through Johnny’s hair. It’s getting long, his fingers sinking into it easily. He grips it, tilting Johnny’s head back slightly so they’re looking each other in the eye. “Be a good boy and maybe next time I’ll let you in.”

Johnny nearly turns to goo in his seat, deflating instantly. He can’t be mad, not with Simon’s dominant side coming out. He can only imagine what he did to you in such a state. No wonder you have yet to be seen.

“Every man for himself this morning for breakfast.” John says, breaking the tense energy of the moment. As much as he’d enjoy watching Johnny get bent over the table, Simon has likely exerted himself enough for the time being. The last thing they need is an injury.

Simon smirks before releasing Johnny, the Scot sinking down into his chair as soon as he’s free. Kyle makes his way to the table, sitting down next to John gingerly.

“Not ye too.” Johnny says, staring at Kyle with hooded eyes.

Kyle smirks, saying nothing as he takes a sip of his tea.

Simon starts on some eggs, the smell starting to waft through the house.

The door creaks quietly as it opens, all of their gazes drawn across the room. You appear out of the darkness, hair mussed, bruises on your neck visible thanks to the loose fitting shirt you’ve donned (likely Simon’s), walking with a noticeable limp.

“Morning sweetheart.” John says, taking a sip of his tea as he watches you slowly make your way to the table. “Have a good night?”

“Mhm.” You hum, lowering yourself slowly into a chair. “Great night.”

“Sounded like it.” Johnny mumbles.

“Did you have a good night?” You ask, voice airy.

“We did.” John says, hiding a smirk behind his mug.

“Good.” You smile, leaning your head on your arm.

“What kind of magic did ye work Simon?” Johnny asks, staring at your blissed out face.

“Just gave her what she wanted.” Simon shrugs, plating the eggs. He carries two plates over to the table, setting one in front of you. “Folded her in half and fucked her till she cried.”

Johnny curses, shifting in his seat again as Simon takes his seat next to him.

“It was quite the sight.” Kyle grins.

“I bet.” John says.

“You can fuck me next if you’d like.” You say, spooning some eggs into your mouth.

He smiles. “You’re sweet to offer, but I think you need a break for a bit.”

“Wha’ about me?” Johnny whines.

You turn your gaze to him. “I’d rather watch you get dicked down.”

“Oh shit.” Kyle breathes, looking between you and his fellow beta.

Johnny lets out a moan at your words, his body shuddering.

“Did you just cum in your pants?” Simon asks, looking down at his beta.

“No…” Johnny flushes, looking bashful.

“’S alright. Happens to the best of us.” You say, taking another bite of your eggs nonchalantly, like you didn’t just make a grown man cum untouched in his pants like a teenager.

“Fucking hell what’s gotten into us?” Kyle asks, looking around the table.

“It’s been far too long since we’ve gotten a chance to be so free with each other.” John says. “Between what happened and then for Christine’s sake, we held ourselves back. Now we have the space and the desire to do as we wish.”

“Be nice while it lasts.” You say, mumbling around your eggs.

“What do you mean?” Kyle asks.

You shrug, eyes down on your plate. “Have to go back eventually, right?”

The table falls silent at the sudden drop in energy, all of them sharing looks but none of them brave enough to say anything.

“I still don’t get it.”

“It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

“But you have to get the hang of it first.” You say, staring hard at the chess board.

“You’ll get it eventually.” Simon says, moving his piece.

“You just won again, didn’t you?” You groan.

“I did.”

You shake your head. “It’s not fair. I still don’t know what I’m doing. Can we go back to playing checkers?”

“You lost at that too.”

“But at least I know how to play.” You say.

“Still beating you?” John asks appearing in front of the fireplace.

“Yes.” You pout.

“We’ll find a game your good at.” Kyle says. “Then we’ll let you beat us.”

“Hey!” You say, lifting yourself off the floor to sit on the couch. “That’s not fair!”

“Better than you losing all the time.” Kyle says, sitting down across from you.

Johnny takes the seat next to you as Simon lifts himself onto the couch next to Kyle. John stands before you, and you can already tell you’re in a pack meeting just from the look on his face. He’s wearing that mask again, the mask of the Captain, the Head Alpha, the Leader.

“I’ve called you all here for a very important announcement.” He says, holding a folder in his hands. You hadn’t noticed it before.

The four of you sit there quietly, waiting with bated breath for what he’s going to say next.

“Our time here is ending.” John continues. “Now that the winter season has passed, and the threat against us has been eliminated, we have to move on to what comes next. I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few weeks thinking about what’s going to happen next, about what direction our lives are going to go. The easiest option is of course going back to the way things were before, going back to the military, living out our lives as we always planned.”

His gaze drops to you. You’re avoiding looking at him, instead focused hard on the checkers box still on the coffee table. You’re waiting for the shoe to drop, for him to say that is what you’re going back to. You’ll be a military pack, you’ll be a military wife, watching them go and waiting for them to go home. Maybe he’ll be nice and let you live off base, or at least in better housing outside of the barracks. Maybe he’ll bring you back here every so often so you can enjoy the sea.

“But…”

That word piques your interest. ‘But’ means something is following, usually something contradictory. Something opposite of what was just said. Your mother used to say “if you follow a statement with the word ‘but’, you don’t mean what you said at all.” You try not to have hope. You try not to think too hard on that ‘but.’

“That’s not entirely fair to all of us.” He continues, still looking at you. “I made a promise that things would change, and I’ve broken that promise over and over again. So I’ve taken it upon myself to make sure things do change.” He takes a step closer to you.

The folder appears in your line of sight. He’s holding it out to you. Your hand shakes as you lift it, closing your fingers around the thick paper. He relinquishes his hold on it, dropping his hand as soon as you have a grip on it. He takes a step back, all of them watching you as you hold the folder.

The plastic clip catches on your finger but you ignore it as you flip them open, reaching in to grab the stack of papers. It’s a thick stack, the papers shaking just slightly as you free them.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you flip them over so you can read them. Your eyes trail over the top, a mix of letters and numbers that mean something unknown to you. It’s a form of some sort, holding John’s information. More information than you’ve ever seen about your alpha.

Your brow furrows as you stare at it. “I don’t know what this is.”

John shifts on his feet. “Consider it a letter of resignation, of sorts.”

Your eyes snap up to him at those words. You know what that means. Your eyes dart between him and the stack of papers, back and forth in disbelief. Letter of resignation?

“Cap, you’re-” Kyle starts but he can’t finish before you cut him off.

“You’re retiring?” Your voice displays just as much disbelief as you’re feeling.

Please don’t let it be a joke. Please don’t let it be a lie.

John nods. “Yes.” He shifts on his feet again. He’s nervous, something you never thought you’d see. “I always thought I’d spend my entire life in the service, until I was forced to retire or I died in the field. Then things changed. This pack was formed, we were given the gift of an omega.” He turns to you again. “I know how much living this life has drained you. These last few months we’ve spent here have proven that to me. You don’t deserve to be forced to wait on us, live the life you don’t want in favor of us living the life we do. You deserve to have comfort and security in knowing your alpha will always be here for you.”

Tears gather in your eyes as you continue to stare at the paperwork. Letter of resignation. He’s really doing it. He’s really going to retire. It’s not some trick, some lie, some sort of dream. He’s going to put aside what he wants in favor of what you want. For the first time you’re going to get a chance to live out a life outside the military.

You’re getting what you want.

“John…” You breathe, fighting back a sob.

He kneels down in front of you, cupping your face with his hand. “You deserve to live a happy life. I’m going to be the one to give that to you.”

You lean into his touch, pressing your nose into his wrist. Petrichor, rich earth, the forest.

The scent of your alpha, the scent of home.

NEXT ->

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[bitchlessdino]

Good Roommates Don't (m)

for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid collab i recieved you @haologram! Secret Cupid Masterlist found here!

Pairing: roommate! Minghao x barista!afab!reader Word count: 14.1k rating: R Summary: Xu Minghao had been the most ethereal being you've ever laid your eyes on to the point being unable of functioning like a normal person, but now you're roommates. Only time will tell when you lose your mind keeping your hands to yourself, so there needed to be a list of things you don't do if you wanted to be a good roommate. tags: meet-ugly, strangers to roommates to lovers, college au, barista au, down bad!reader, mentions of band, brief bdsm, mc fell first he fell harder, cum swapping, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), face riding, unprotected sex author note: thank you @lovetaroandtaemin and @gyubakeries beta-reading this with me. after writing towtsyfdtotbycf (holy shit) i was in a little bit of a slump and had several and i mean SEVERAL versions of this and for months racked my brain how i wanted to do this. Alta, i care for you deeply and we've gotten close in the last year or so, so i really wanted to write something that would amuse you and that you'd enjoy. and if you hate it you can use it as leverage to berate me on discord lol. but please, my valentine, enjoy my gift to you. happy Valentines day Alta (and tell me was i really not that slick) <3

When you first met Minghao, you almost killed him trying to save his life. At least, that's what you thought you were doing.

All you had to do was bear a normal shift at the Coffee Shop, attempt a semblance of a smile for the oncoming customers, and clock out at your normal hour, but the universe couldn’t even give you that. Instead, they sent you the hottest guy imaginable, along with the swiftness of a gazelle, the strength of a gorilla, and the intuition of a garden gnome. That day just confirmed that some things were better left alone.

A few things were already going wrong that day. For one, your alarm didn't go off. The alarm being your mom, who usually kicked you out of bed first thing at 9 am, since she had a doctor’s appointment. Fair enough. The strings of fate got you there. All the more reason why moving out seemed like a distant dream rather than a close reality. Were you really capable of being a functioning adult? 

Then there was the bus and having to shell out twenty bucks for a Lyft when the next scheduled bus was reported to have broken down and was no longer an option. That twenty bucks could’ve been your meal for the next week, but no, being fiscally responsible was a circus act, and you were the clown being pied in the face repeatedly. As if you weren’t already putting on a face and juggling multiple things enough on a daily basis, today was no different. 

And then, you were late to work—which again, was nothing new—but you were hoping that Nayeon, who was scheduled as the shift manager, let you off with a warning. Yet, somehow, that went wrong as well, seeing that the shittier manager on your shift, Manager Fi, was present instead. And, by the look in the old man's eyes, he wasn’t happy about it either, especially considering he assigned you bathroom duty for the end of your shift to make up for your tardiness. He never liked you since you started. Then again, he didn’t like anybody, and vice versa.

This morning was bad omen after bad omen.

Leading up to finally meeting Minghao—tall, scorchingly hot Minghao, with lips that looked soft as clouds. You hadn’t seen him around before until today, and perhaps it should’ve stayed that way, because you couldn’t see yourself facing him ever again.

He walked in with his large group of friends, all almost nearly as charming as him with a handful of faces that you’ve seen once or twice, but none that stood quite out like his. He had the kind of face that made you want to paint murals, write ballads, or stare long enough to linger too long over the same spot you were cleaning on the counter, windshield wiping until the wet streaks you wiped off devolved to discoloration and damaged the countertop’s cheap sealant. Eventually, you averted your gaze to conceal your flushed cheeks—turning away in clear embarrassment, thinking about how much of a fucking creep you probably looked overtly gawking at him—but you’d soon realized that was the least of your worries. You’d soon wish it ended with you looking like a creep.

The next moment you lifted your eyes towards him again, you found him in a compromising position, one that had you thinking—and that was your first mistake. His face twisted with discomfort, and he gasped as he covered his mouth. A million thoughts raced through your mind, considering all the possible reasons for his distress, and one screamed the loudest above all, setting off alarm bells. So you—being meddling and troublesome you—acted on instinct.

Hopping over the counter, you raced towards him, pulled him off the booth which he was luckily on the edge of, and immediately attempted the Heimlich. Finally, your CPR certification could be put to use. You embraced him from behind, putting pressure on his ribcage as you launched and thrust yourself against him, forcing whatever was lodged in his throat out of his body.

“I’ve got you!” you exclaimed heroically.

You put in as much strength as you could muster, truly hoping to save a life today, thinking out of all things that have gone wrong today, at least this would be one thing you’ve done right. You could feel your ancestors looking down on you to witness a proud moment in your otherwise boring and mundane life. 

After several rough collisions with his body, he eventually spat something chewed up and unsightly onto the booth’s table, drawing the attention of several onlookers if your boisterous shouting hadn’t already. His friends were quick to look away, wincing in disgust while the cute boy doubled over in pain, holding himself by the ribs as you ran your eyes over at him in concern.

“Are you alright, sir? That must’ve been terrifying to suffocate on something so suddenly.”

He then finally lifted his head. His cheeks were flushed as anguish took over his features. “I wasn’t choking,” He rasped.

“...Come again?”

“Oh my god!” A third-party witness stood up dramatically from their seat. “This barista just saved this young man’s life!”

Suddenly, you were punished with attention, cheers specifically. All except the people who sat at the cute boy’s table clapped for you—or, rather at you now—and gave you standing ovations for your grand heroic act, when in fact, it wasn’t heroic at all. Meanwhile, you attempted to settle them down, flapping your hands dismissively and growing hot all over. You looked over the man you so-called saved as he strained to sit back in his seat, being tended by the friends he came with.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Shit, that looked like it hurt.”

“You probably shouldn't have been drinking it that fast, Minghao.”

It turned out you had severely miscalculated the situation. What appeared to be choking, prompting you to improperly administer a rough but appropriate Heimlich maneuver, was simply a mildly exaggerated reaction to hot coffee followed by a muffin to alleviate his burnt taste buds. You, of course, profusely apologized, as if you weren’t embarrassed enough for staring at him the whole time working your entire shift at the coffee shop because he was the most breathtakingly stunning person you’ve ever seen in your life. You might’ve just about broken his ribs and made his life flash before his eyes by abruptly slamming your body against him repeatedly, and not in the fun way.

Rather than an apartment, you were in desperate need of a hole deep enough to lead you to the core of the Earth to hide you from everyone else on the crust, ideally with cheap rent and good air ventilation. 

You bowed your head in humiliation, unable to meet any of their eyes, especially with the possibility of them remembering your face with a lawsuit waiting to happen. “I can’t believe that happened, I am so sorry. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know.”

“It’s okay, really, but I think we’ve had enough excitement for today if you don’t mind.” 

The attractive stranger—or Minghao, as you’ve learned from his friends who immediately rushed to him in concern—shook his hand in the air reassuringly. “Just, no more of that, alright? Make sure someone’s actually choking before trying to save them.”

“Right, please have a wonderful rest of your day,” you said, before returning to your station and disappearing behind the breakroom, screaming into your cubby and avoiding human interaction for as long as you could.

That scene replayed in your mind over and over like a recurring nightmare, burning the image of his beautiful face with such disdain for all eternity, while his name etched into your brain in permanent ink, embedded in every wrinkle in your brain. Minghao. A devastatingly beautiful name for a devastatingly beautiful owner.

Ugh. Get a fucking grip.

You just needed to get through the rest of the day. It would just be a couple more hours until your shift ended, and then you’d leave on the dot. It’d be just in time to make your appointment to meet your new potential roommate. Hopefully, it would be the silver lining of today’s catastrophic mess.

You met on electronic class forums while attending the same Cultural Studies course and somehow ended up relying on each other for notes. By your chat history, you seemed to have a lot in common—with the exception of his preference for tea over artisanal coffee—and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t get giddy seeing the green circle next to his username. Recently, he had just talked about moving into town after pondering the idea for so long, and as fate may have it, you’ve been looking for your own place to stay. You figured he seemed nice enough, and he even offered a reasonable quote on rent. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look. You just hoped he was as friendly in real life as he was online—with the day you had, you needed a win.

And, that win started with Chinese food, his choice, and it was a good one. You hadn’t been at this location before, taking note of the old-fashioned aesthetic touched by the harshness of modern neon signs that lit even the darkest of hallways. You were now thinking you ought to come more often as the heavenly notes of soy, ginger, and whatever concoction bled through the kitchen curtains and wafted through your nostrils the moment you passed through the double doors. Immediately, you were greeted by the host, visibly tired and overworked, with dark circles under his eyes, before he led you to a table in the center of the restaurant. You settled your nerves with a glass of water, trying to let the horrific events from today fade to as black as the soy sauce loitering on your table, waiting for a plate of dumplings to accompany them.

Funny how you could still have an appetite after everything that happened.

It wasn’t too long after you heard the same doors you walked through open, setting off the familiar sound of its wind chimes. You peered behind you, catching a glimpse of the new arrival, and immediately spun back in your seat, startled by the face that passed through your eyes. Trepidation brewed within you as the unsolicited visitor had your stomach in knots. 

You couldn’t take another incident tonight. 

You slunk into your seat, burying your chin in your shirt, hoping you’d somehow camouflage into your seat, facing away from the new arrival. Meanwhile, his eyes skimmed the room, walking in with purpose without guidance and greeting the employees as if he were right at home. Fortunately, he had yet to notice your presence as you slinked out of view the moment he passed by you to sit at the bar, while you made way into a booth in the dark corner of the restaurant, cursing the fates for their cruel games once again. You just had hoped that your new roommate would hurry it up already so you could get out of here before you were discovered.

And after about ten minutes, it felt as if all hope was lost. There was no sign of them and you were wondering if you had been stood up. Amid your anticipation, you were forced to pay attention to the person you were avoiding, seeing his patience wear thin with the tap of his foot as he sipped the last of his iced tea. Not a moment too soon, you saw him pluck his phone out from his pocket, fingers skittering over the screen before bringing it to his ear and scanning the restaurant’s floor plan. In the same instant, your phone went off,  blaring your cursed ringtone, ‘Pocketful of Sunshine’, and the realization—along with the panic—quickly set in. 

Alerted by the noise, his head whipped up from his screen. His eyebrows rose in shock, not all expecting the outcome that arose, and he dropped to his feet and quickly darted toward the sound that you—for the life of you—could not turn off fast enough. His footsteps matched the rate of your heart pounding in your chest, growing louder and closer until he found the source and located you cowering in the corner.

You lifted your head to lock eyes for the first time since this morning just as you finally managed to silence the ringtone and gave him an awkward laugh, waving with your phone in hand. Taking a nervous gulp, you awaited his disappointment, expecting him to make his quick exit after evaluating in the two seconds of your meeting that this arrangement would not work out because you were a deranged psycho with a savior complex. To your pleasant surprise, that didn't happen. Instead, you were met with a gentle smile and a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “There you are.”

You forced a sheepish chuckle. “Here I am, ha.”

Minghao softly chuckled before tucking his phone in his back pocket. “And to think just this morning you ‘saved my life.’”

You shut your eyes tightly, hands pressing together as if begging for forgiveness. “Again I am so, so sorry for that. It did look like you were choking.”

He shook his head reassuringly. “So you’ve said. I’m Minghao, or PalE8. Nice to meet you, CafeMixr0.”

“Is it…nice to meet me?” You asked dubiously.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

You blinked incredulously. “Well, for several reasons.”

He shrugged before entering the booth and leaving a healthy distance to sit just across from you. “Can’t think of any. Have you ordered anything yet?”

You shook your head, befuddled by his nonchalance, waiting to see the catch, if there was any.

“Good thing I know everything worth ordering.” His hand shot up before grabbing the attention of a server to get his order taken.

You weren't sure where the night was going. All you knew was the boy that you almost killed this morning was sitting across from you looking as breathtaking as he did this morning, even while slurping up his stir fry that was glossed with a sheen of chilli oil and swelling up his already full lips. Rather than a roommate meetup—if that was still the case—it felt like a date, a date you were exceedingly ill-prepared for.

Suddenly, you could feel the sweat on the back of your knees, feeling the strong urge to sniff the clothes on your back, unsure when the last time you did a fresh load of laundry and if your current attire was included in that load at all. Not to mention that bathroom duty that was forced upon you, which no doubt seeped into your clothes. You were better off naked, but then that would be an entire different kind of meeting, wouldn’t it?

“You’re okay, right?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from your spiraling thoughts as you barely finished your portion of chow mein—which was absolutely heavenly, to put it lightly.

He let out a light chuckle before kindly reassuring you. “How many times are you going to ask me? You and everyone from this morning. I’m fine, able-bodied and everything.” 

“I just felt really bad. You looked really hurt.”

He couldn’t suppress his grin, finding your cautiousness amusing, but it only added to your unease. “I was hurt. You’re really, really strong.”

You winced. “Again. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s a quality of a good roommate.” He finished the last bit of his meal before dropping a couple of bills without asking for the tab. “Come on. I’ve got to show you the apartment.”

You raised an eyebrow while sipping your warm tea before tapping your mouth with a napkin. “You still want to room with me? After this morning?”

“There’s not a lot of good options for roommates in the city, and what are the odds that you’ll try to kill me twice?”

He had a fair point, and it wasn’t like you had options lining up either. You just had to hope he didn’t regret taking this chance on you.

A big reason why you wanted to move out was to learn to be on your own, but in addition to that, the city had pretty much everything to offer. The city had it all, from job opportunities to the right people to meet, and the apartment Minghao led you to was the center of the entirety of it. High above the town square, in a room several floors up, there was a nook that had a view through a large window overlooking everything within about a two-mile radius. If there was anything nice to say about the city, it definitely looked better from where you were standing. The street lights illuminated streets, neon signs brought the local businesses to life, and people that ran the night life lived it to the fullest in the flashiest clothes imaginable. You had never seen your city like this before.

Meanwhile, the apartment itself was gorgeous and already fully furnished with stylish furniture and greenery that touched the kitchen and living room. It was graced with Minghao’s taste in art and an eccentric—but tasteful—color palette of warm browns, olive greens, and rustic oranges. It felt like walking into Minghao’s mind, seeing into his world, and you were given the opportunity of it being yours, being part of his world. He was generous enough to even let you pass through the front door.

“So?” he asked, gauging your interest, watching as you looked down at the city from the large window nook in awe.

You softly scoffed, unable to take your eyes off the beautiful view calling to you like a siren at sea.  “Um, I’m sorry, you had trouble finding a roommate, how?”

He crossed his arms, admiring the sight with you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision and grinning when he saw the childlike sparkle in your eyes. “I’m new to the city, and everyone I know here has their own living arrangements. I didn’t want to go too far in looking for a new roommate. I thought we'd work well together, since we’re based in the same city now and have a lot in common based on our conversations.”

“I almost killed you this morning,” You’ve pointed out to…death.

“Although you’re…impulsive and unpredictable, I’ve seen worse. I think I’ll manage.” He splayed his hand in front of you, gesturing for a shake to officially seal the deal. “What do you say? Do you still want to be roommates?”

Everything about this screamed it was a bad idea. Putting aside the fact that you nearly killed the man, you could barely stand in the presence of him without your mind drifting to dark waters. It didn’t take rocket science to understand that putting you in that same living quarters with Minghao meant you might have to live every day together with your hands tied behind your back and thighs taped shut. You’ve surprised yourself with how you’ve managed to keep your composure sharing the same air—the air you were even thinking of savoring as you contemplated this offer.

You were down-righteously-bad. You weren’t a fit roommate for Minghao in the slightest.

Yet, you took his hand, letting his cool palm clash with your warmth as his digits wrapped around you in a tight squeeze before shaking. “Let’s do it.”

And that marked the start of a new chapter of your life, unraveling the challenge of being Xu Minghao’s roommate. Only, he wasn’t the challenge. He was a breath of fresh autumn air. He was kind beyond words and accommodating in every step of your move. You were already familiar with his gentle and patient nature, as he had frequently taken the time to clarify complex ideas for class, and you’ve learned about the majority of his interests prior from your online discussions, but seeing PalE8’s traits in person—embodied in Minghao—was bizarre. You realized he was still a stranger after all. A stranger that claimed your breath with a single bat of his eyes and turned your stomach inside out worse than a bad case of food poisoning, no less.

Meanwhile, the neighbors knew him by name, were endeared by his presence, and found him to be a delightful conversationalist as well as a helping hand when the situation called for it. He was better than your friendly neighborhood spiderman. He was your kind, considerate, intricately woven, beautifully complex, and knees-bucklingly handsome Minghao. 

You weren’t usually a sexual deviant, at least not to this extent, but Minghao brought something out of you that you hadn’t felt for another person. However, if you were going to live together, that had to change. This crush was going to have to dwindle out of existence if you wanted to live together—emphasis on you—in peace.

So, that’s when you decided to make a list of rules that only you had to follow. Sure, you were an adult, and the thought of giving yourself rules to keep your hands to yourself was juvenile and stupid, but for the sake of your sanity, you were looking for anything that might work. That’s when you decided to make a list of things “good roommates don’t do”, thinking it would be shorter and easier to sum up than a long redundant list of things good roommates would do, and the first thing to top the list was easy.

Good roommates don’t almost kill each other (again).

That seemed easy enough to remember, considering the first time was traumatic enough, and fortunately, it didn’t take too much effort, considering you hardly saw each other despite living together. 

You ended up taking up more shifts at work, desperate enough to even join the catering team, to keep yourself busy and afford the new expense of rent, sacrificing a lot more of your free time. Meanwhile, Minghao’s work schedule was not only demanding, it was inconsistent. Working at a popular art gallery as an artist and attendant with frequent and erratic events to go to until late at night prompted your roommate to be seen home a lot less than expected. By the time either of you got home, there wouldn’t be so much of a hello or goodbye either, just the sounds of bodies falling on beds in either rooms as the day’s fatigue engulfed you until you succumbed to sleep.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little disappointed by these circumstances, but then again, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Seeing him as little as you did meant less opportunity for you to screw things up around him, because it seemed to happen quite frequently when he was around. The few times you did cross paths, you still found ways to humiliate yourself.

“That’s mine.”

You held the toothbrush mid-scrub, bubbles foaming at the corners of your mouth, “Eh?”

“I think you’re using my toothbrush.”

Your cheeks immediately grew warm, and you shielded your face with the back of your hand. You spat into the sink and splashed water on your face to rid yourself of toothpaste residue before turning back to respond, his words jumbling in your head and bouncing from corner to corner to process them. “I-I don’t think so, this is the one I always use.”

He snickered, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms, delectably dressed down in a gray tank top and sweatpants. The tempting taste of domesticity was sweet and permeated your tastebuds. “If that’s the case, we’ve been sharing, because I’ve always kept my brush there in the marble cup. Yours should be behind the medicine cabinet where you first left it.”

“What? You sure?” you pinned the used toothbrush on the sink’s porcelain before cracking open the medicine cabinet. “I’m pretty sure I took it—Ah!”

Startled by your findings, you dropped the toothbrush you gripped in your hand onto the floor when you’ve proven Minghao right as his toothbrush fell to the ground, now defiled with your oral bacteria and whatever was on the floor. The one day you take a shift later than usual because a member begged to take on more shifts, it blew up in your face. Seokmin, you will rue the day. “I-I’ll clean it!” You offered in a panicked tone.

He pushed himself off the threshold, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t, please. It’s dirty; I can just replace it.”

Filled with guilt, you stepped aside to watch him pick up the dirty brush before disposing of it in the waste bin, “Sorry.”

“You say that a lot.” 

He pulled a fresh toothbrush out of a drawer and ripped it out of its packaging. It was notably identical to his previous and your current abandoned toothbrush, down to the bristles. “No worries. See,” he turned the new hygiene tool for inspection, “Clean.”

“Regret having me as a roommate yet?” you joked anxiously towards his reflection in the mirror.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing I can’t manage. I lived in a boarding house full of guys that shared things without asking and it didn’t stop at toothbrushes. You’re the first roommate I’ve had that’s apologized. I say that’s an upgrade.”

He went on to brush his teeth with his newly obtained brush, christening the bristles with a squeeze of fluoride toothpaste before scrubbing against his pearly whites. He never ceased to amaze you with his aloof attitude towards the situation, as if he’d become accustomed to your chaos when he didn’t need to be at all. This situation, however, did indicate that you had another thing to be added to the list.

Good roommates don’t use each other’s toothbrush (even by accident)

In your room just before you left for work, you haphazardly added to the list you put on a crumpled piece of paper you kept in your wallet, ensuring you held your list close before setting the pen aside. Your heart pounded against your chest, thinking what that had meant all this time. How you’ve pretty much swapped saliva nearly every day with Minghao since moving in. The fact that it had gone on for so long repulsed you, but not anymore than the tiny part of yourself that maybe had always known and continued to do it. 

You held your digits to your lips, brushing the pads against the slit of your mouth, ragged breaths slowly leaving your lungs as you reached your enamel. Tension pooled in your stomach as the images that infiltrated your dreams were currently being conjured in your consciousness, while arousal chased down your legs as you clenched them together. Jolted back to reality, you wound your eyes shut, remembering how little he cared about the matter, how nonchalant he was when he found out. Meanwhile, here you were: perverse, losing your mind, and letting your imagination run wild like a hormonal teenager with her celebrity crush. 

Fuck. You needed a night out. You had been cooped up in the apartment for too goddamn long. The only other place you went was work, and knowing labor laws, they had to give you a night or two off for all the time you’d been putting in. There was a whole outside world, and you needed to buck up and take advantage of it. You had to do something other than fawn over your very hot roommate. Losing some spare change was worth the sanity. At least, you hoped it was.

“You going out tonight?”

Hearing a familiar tenor voice, your head lifted up from fixing the strap of your shoes to see him remove his coat and store it away in the front entrance closet. “Oh, you’re home,” you stated.

“Yeah. The gallery is closed tonight for a bigger show this weekend, so I have a couple days where I’m off earlier than usual.”

More time for Minghao to be at home. Great. 

You nodded, keeping your cool at the sight of his turtleneck hugging his lean and toned frame, making your heart work overtime in place of you this evening. “I see, but yeah. A couple of my friends and I are trying out that new place that just opened up in midtown.”

“Oh, let me know how that goes. Me and some friends had plans to go there too.”

“Okay.” You hurried your way to the door. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wait.”

Hand on the door knob, you cursed under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut as if bracing for impact before opening them, and turned around with an innocuous expression. “Yes?”

He held out his hand. “Your phone please.”

“Hmm? Why,” you asked, unlocking it before complying.

He smiled accepting it, before swiping his fingers off the screen. “I’m sending myself your location.”

And there your heart when pitter-patter again at thoughtful and kind hot as fuck Minghao. “I just told you where I’d be.”

“That could always change. Here,” he said, handing your phone back, beaming back at you warmly. “Just in case something happens, and you can always call me if you feel unsafe, okay?”

You gave a soft pout, cheeks growing warm at the thought of Minghao’s concern over you. It pleased you more than it should’ve. “Thanks. What are you gonna do tonight?”

He shrugged, taking a quick glance over his shoulder. “Maybe do some light reading and tea, paint if inspiration hits me.”

You gave a small grin, thinking just how Minghao those activities sound. “Sounds enlightening. Okay. I’ll be home soon.”

“Be safe.”

Even long after you’d left, you kept thinking about that interaction. How domestic it felt, how safe it made you feel, how seen you really were. It made you wonder if he was tracking you right now, looking at his phone, staring at the dot indicating where you were located. You wondered if he was thinking about you right now, because you were most certainly thinking about him.

Your mission of trying to forget Minghao by going out definitely was not working, but you took that as a sign to keep drinking. Your friends didn’t get to see you often with how much you worked, so they were just happy to see you were having a good time, not knowing you were trying to drown out the consuming thoughts of a certain man with a peculiar color scheme. 

They wouldn’t have known the way you let yourself get felt up by a stranger near the dance floor, standing so close you could smell the knock off cologne he was practically bathing in as his breath hung in the air against your neck. When it went nowhere, he eventually left, looking for prospects elsewhere, while you stuck to your mission, seeing it work at some point at night. Until it didn’t, but you didn’t remember because eventually it’d all fade to black.

Your eyes ripped open, waking up with the biggest headache, blinded by the natural rays of light bleeding through blinds—only your room didn’t have blinds. You specifically made sure to have blackout curtains because you couldn’t stand waking up to the sun, and that hasn’t ever changed. Grumbling irritatingly along the lines about who turned on the lights, you flipped on the other side of the bed with a half awoken daze, your blurry vision making out a lumpy figure underneath the covers.

You drew closer in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were seeing before taking in the fact the lump had a face as blinding as the sun you turned away from, startling you upon recognition. Your eyes shot open, wide awake now, and you nearly stumbled out of the mattress before his arms grabbed you, latching on you before you could fall off and safely secured you in his tucked embrace. 

“It’s a bit early for your charming antics, isn’t it?” Minghao chucked with closed eyes.

You blinked back at him, licking your lips anxiously. “How am I here right now?”

His eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the light. “You mean alive or in bed with me?”

Your cheeks grew hot. “B-both.”

“I wish I had an answer for the first question, but it seems your creator had more plans for you. As for your second concern, you seemed confused and tired, and I assumed you confused this bed for yours.”

“You should’ve kicked me out.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, rubbing his hands over your shoulders and sending a chill down your spine. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

You let out a soft sigh, ridden with guilt. “I’d deserve it. I must’ve been annoying to deal with.”

He knitted his brows together, the corner of his lips softly turning down. “You really don’t like yourself.”

“No—well, maybe not lately. Maybe I’m just coming to the realization I’m not a good roommate.”

“No one is good at anything their first time.”

“You’re not denying it!”

“You’re a fine roommate.” Patting you on the back, he threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, leaving his room to trod toward the kitchen. You followed after curiously, like a duckling that imprinted on its mother, watching as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge’s shelves. “Anything you’re allergic to?” He asked over his shoulder.

“Nothing comes to mind.” You answered hesitantly.

“Good. The recipe is fairly easy anyway, it shouldn’t kill you.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly stood by his side as he set all the items down, he followed with gathering bowls and cookware. “You’re cooking for me?”

“Mmh-hmm.”

“You don’t have to.”

He turned his head slightly. “You have a headache, don’t you?”

“Yes but—”

“It’s just egg drop soup.” He patted your shoulder nodding his head over at the counter stool either of you would often have breakfast. “Sit. It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

You sat patiently by the counter, watching him chop and throw ingredients into a small pot, which filled your shared residence with a savory aroma. As soon as he was done, he presented the dish in front of you, garnishing it with fresh chopped scallions and parsley. He picked up a serving with a soup spoon and gently blew on the top before taking a quick sample and grinning at the result. Scooping with the same spoon, he held a serving towards you with proud eyes.

“Try it,” he urged.

As you accepted the offering, you tried not to think about how you were about to share yet another household item that would enter both your mouths and let the simple flavors fan out on your tongue, the warmth of soup dispersing throughout your body. You hummed in delight, already feeling it work its magic. “It’s delicious,” you said softly.

He grinned. “Feel better.”

“Thanks, Minghao.”

“No problem at all.” 

As you enjoyed your thoughtful breakfast, your roommate cleaned up his mess. He wiped down whatever residue was left behind before heading to his room and coming out properly dressed in brown slacks and muted green patterned sweater when you were just about done eating. “Heading to work now.”

“You had work?” You asked surprised, “Why did you waste time cooking? You could have left already.”

He softly scoffed heading to the door. “I spent—what, five or ten minutes? It’s fine. See you later.”

In the last 24 hours, Minghao managed to make sure you were safe by tracking your location, gave you a good night's rest by not disrupting your sleep, and made you breakfast right before work. Then there’s you, black out drunk with almost no memory of last night (probably good you didn’t), annoying your overly nice and overly hot roommate, hogging a bed that isn’t yours, and eating a home cooked meal that probably set back his schedule. You were the worst. All the more reason for a new addition to the list.

Good roommates don't sleep in their other roommate’s bed piss drunk (again)

It seemed that this list of “don’ts” was getting longer, probably because you’re an awful roommate, and if there was a reward, yours would already be at the front door. You really, really had to make an effort to do something about this arrangement. Now that some time had passed and these interactions were becoming more frequent, avoiding him seemed to be out of question unless you wanted to give him the wrong impression. You would just have to become a better roommate, and that started with making up for this morning.

In the following months together, to atone for the bed incident and good deeds that followed suit, you shared the occasional breakfast if you had time (that is if you didn’t burn anything), even sometimes grabbing dinner or a late meal in the small gap before or after work. While in the late hours, when both of you should’ve been sleeping, you’d have a cup of your favorite beverages. He’d have his brew of tea for the night while you’d have a mug of coffee, awake under the stars and basking in the night, watching from the nook that you both grew fond of that was in the direction of the moon when it’s at its peak.

Of all people to share these moments with, you couldn’t imagine it with anyone else but Minghao. He was the peace amongst the chaos, the quiet you came home to after dealing with the noisy world that helped you heal like nothing else. You liked that about him, and now you were liking him too much, to the point you thought of him every day. What it’d be like for him to hold you in his arms, letting his warmth envelop your entire being the way his voice naturally does with a simple “it’s okay.” 

You’d imagine how he’d look at you, how lovers do when they ache for one another so desperately they could feel it down to every atom. You’d thought of the words he’d say to you, the words he’d say to someone he’s madly, irrevocably besotted with, and every letter and word and sentence would be spoken poetry. He’d feel like love. You didn’t think it was possible for you to grow more attracted to him, but learning all these wonderful things he does and seeing up close and personal how beautiful inside and out he was, you were developing feelings and growing all these desires that you were ashamed to admit out loud.

And with that, you pulled out your list and a pen, jotting in a new item.

Good roommates don’t live in every waking moment staring at them or thinking about wanting to kiss them (no matter how hard it is)

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve already broken that rule, but the least you could do was hold yourself accountable.

However, writing the rule didn't prevent future instances. Not from fantasizing, not from wet dreams, not from imagining a life together where you rid all your inhibitions and clothes and succumb to drowning in each other. Unlike every other rule that you’ve managed to avoid, this one was the outlier, flipping your world on its head and preoccupying every second of your thoughts with all things Xu Minghao. And what sucked was you were so guilt ridden, you couldn't even let yourself enjoy it. 

This was your roommate for crying out loud. Your wholesome, nice, forgiving, and tolerant roommate that went beyond what was necessary to make you feel at home and comfortable. Only time will tell when he’ll see through you and finally kick you to the curb.

“Let’s go out.”

Your head lifted up from your phone with eyes large as saucers. “What?”

“We haven't really done anything together,” he suggested, cleaning up the dishes of the dinner you both had just had.

It was one of the few nights that you were both free. The coffee shop had more than enough staff, and you’ve exhausted the hours put in, while the art gallery was planning a grand exhibition, so they needed all hands on deck for the mornings for a few weeks, but evenings would be free until the week of. That left you two a lot more free time than you knew what to do with.

“We see each other all the time,” you pointed out.

“At home. We don’t hang outside the apartment aside from that one dinner the first day we met, so let’s go out.”

You blinked, watching him grab his coat before you could argue as he waved you over, his smile luring you closer and putting you under his spell without you realizing until it was too late. “Uh, where? It’s 9PM.”

“Anywhere.”

For someone who had only arrived in town a couple months ago, Minghao knew a lot of the good spots in the city.  If it wasn’t food, it was book stores. If it wasn’t book stores, it was tea shops. He had a clear plan of the city, and without so much looking at a GPS, he could find his way around better than any native. And considering all the people he came with that day you met the coffee shop and all the staff at the Chinese restaurant, his index didn’t stop at places. He seemed more familiar with the people in your hometown than you were. Between you two, he looked like the real local.

Walking alongside your roommate, you turned to him curiously, “How do you know the city so well when you’ve moved in somewhat recently?”

He gave a soft smile looking into the distance, as if the gust of wind that passed through you both hit him with a wave of nostalgia. “I’ve been visiting for about four years. I only had the guts to become a resident recently.”

“Why’d it take you so long?”

“Student visa processes, paper work, all those things. Also, this city is great, and everyone I've met and have become close with is amazing, but home is just home. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He let out a deep sigh, taking in a deep breath before stretching out his arms and let fall back to his sides, turning slightly to you. “This country and town has become a second, though, some things even my home can’t beat.”

You mused at that, intrigued that he could find something appealing in here, then again you've been here all your life, yet Minghao showed you more you could ever imagine of it. “Like what?”

He simply smiled as their feet stopped at their final destination, a location they both aimlessly walked towards just a little off the center of the town. “I’ll tell you, as soon as we try this place out.” 

Just off the center of town was a bar you had never heard of with a theme you’d never thought to put together on your own and definitely a place you’d never think to walk into with your roommate you were trying to keep platonic feelings for.

“Hey sexy babies, welcome to the Love in Leather BDSM Bar, where all your sexy dreams can come true.”

Oh, my god.

You were petrified. Every wall was decorated with leather or latex, either on display in a box, on a vulgarly displayed mannequin, or on an employee that was dressed in next to nothing, leaving no room for imagination. You weren’t shy about the theme of BDSM—there was always a small part of you curious about it—but it’s not like you’ve talked extensively about it with Minghao. The same person you were trying really hard not to think about sleeping with, which was especially hard in a place that served ‘cum shots’ and with their special for tonight being ‘buttery nipples.’

Glancing back at your roommate to get his reaction, he seemed to be just as startled with his findings as you were, but perhaps not as terrified as he should be, taking you by the wrist and weaving through the crowd with a marveled expression. You were grateful for the loud music playing the explicit versions of songs you wouldn’t otherwise hear on the radio, drowning out the sound of your heavy breathing and the loud thrum of your heart. You just had hoped he couldn’t feel your pulse under his fingertips, unable to untangle from his grasp as you felt the heat of his touch spread out through your whole body. You were trapped in a web you didn’t want to leave and that was the hardest kind to be in.

Suddenly, lights poured on the center stage of the bar. The music then slowed down, transitioning to another song, and a scantily leather clad woman entered that would erupt cheers of all clients seated in the chairs in front of her, to which she sent an air kiss and wink. Following the crowd, both you and Minghao decided to cheer along with them, your sounds of encouragement drowned out in the more enthusiastic and obscenely creative audience members of the establishment. Walking across the stage, she made a show of it, caressing her body in ways that would have a man on his knees howling at the moon (which you swore you heard once or twice in there) as money was thrown strewn stage like confetti, enough to pay for a few nice dinners uptown. After garnering the excitement, she descended down the steps of the stage, walking into her live audience. Her eyes skimmed through the endless crowds of people, landing on and picking one lucky front row member—a young, spry man no older than twenty-five—and brought him on stage, ensuing roars and applause, indicating the start of the real show.

What happened next was something you did not want to get into detail, but in layman’s terms, that audience member was having the time of his life with the use of a flog while everyone watched. You could only make the distinction of excruciating pain and pleasurable pain by the very loud affirmations coming out of his mouth and bouncing off the board he face planted on, and the words that passed through one of your ears and never wanted to come out the other. You were slack jawed from the scene, not at all expecting this scene today, and holy shit, you could not feel more suffocated knowing Minghao was witnessing all of this beside you. 

He stared back at the scene, expression unreadable, but he seemed interested and unable to look away like it was an oncoming train wreck, looking as if he was stuck on the tracks and was making sense of what he was seeing. Suddenly, his eyes locked with yours and you watched as they softened with a glint of something behind them before you swiveled your head, feeling yourself burn from your face to your ears, clenching your free hand. This felt eerily like a date, but unlike the first dinner, this felt like a real one. An immense sexually charged one. 

You were surrounded by sex at all angles, being tested to the most extreme degree. Tonight, you’ve learned dominance wasn’t particularly your thing, but if it were Minghao, perhaps you wouldn’t have minded. 

But this, this was overwhelming. As if sensing your turmoil, Minghao tugged your wrist, making you fix your gaze on him again and read the words that he mouthed from his lips. “Time to run.”

Your fingers interlocked and feet picked up speed as you headed toward the door, running aimlessly for miles out of the bar in fits of smiles and laughter. There was no plan and no destination, you both just wanted out, and you’d only stop running when you reached a bridge, both your bodies collapsing against the metal railing. You both gave out in heavy pants, your breaths mingling as you faced one another. 

“That’s crazy,” you managed to rasp. “Why did we think we could go in there?”

He gave you a tired grin back, looking in the direction from which you came. The light layer of perspiration made his shirt cling to his skin, and you get a sliver of his chest as he aired it out for comfort. “I don’t know. Try something new, but that.” He pointed where he faced. “That’s how I know so many places, I just walk inside.”

You ran your hand over your chest, baring the biggest grin. “Gosh. I feel like dying.”

“Iced coffee?” He kindly suggested.

“And tea?” You cared to offer.

Nodding back at each other, you both decided to walk the rest of the way back around, making a stop at a light night cafe and occupying their second floor balcony to taste the crisp air. As you sipped on your iced coffee and Minghao sipped on his warm tea, you quietly basked in the moonlit sky, as you’d done many times before. The adrenaline of tonight coursed through you still while you leaned against the railings and stared up at the stars, your elbows grazing close enough to spark that electricity that you’d feel whenever he ever got too close. This time, you were too tired to fight it, or you learned it’s about time you stopped trying to.

“I don’t drink coffee.” He abruptly confessed, penetrating the silence.

You softly scoffed, turning your head to him, taking his reminder as a jab for your ‘inferior’ tastes before taking a bigger sip of your delicious fresh roast press. “I know that. You prefer tea.”

“I mean, I don’t drink coffee, but the day you ‘saved me,’ I did.”

You hummed. “Oh. Yeah, you did. Funny. You got a coffee that day instead?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No, ask me why I drank coffee that day.” 

You rolled your eyes, placing your drink on the side table before leaning your elbows over the railing. “Okay. Why did you drink coffee, Minghao?”

“I drank my friend’s mug on accident, thinking it was my tea, then tasted how scaldingly hot and wretched it was—”

You gasped, offended as a barista, “I work really hard on those!”

He waved his hand to calm you down. “Let me finish. I mistook my normal tea for coffee…all because I got distracted, unable to stop thinking about the cute barista who wouldn't quit staring at me from behind the counter.”

“...I apologize for being a creep.”

He shook his head smiling and set his tea cup aside. “Not my point.”

You stared into the contents of your drink, shaking the ice inside as you stirred the straw, trying to find any remains of your beverage and stalling for time to follow up with a response. Lips pressed in a firm line, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, silence met on the other end as he keenly observed you, mirroring your posture while he sipped his tea. “So…You thought I was cute,” you managed to sum up.

“Thought…think…know.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You timidly asked.

“We’re roommates,” he reminded you, plain as day. “We should be honest with each other, right?”

“Honest,” you repeated, lethally soft.

“Yes, honest,” he confirmed just as quietly. “Don’t be afraid to tell me whatever is on your mind, just as I’ve told you what was on my mind.”

His honesty was cute, flattering. Your honesty could write up a restraining order. “Is that necessary? We only really live together.”

“It’s necessary because we live together, so yes, be honest about your feelings. Let me in on your thoughts, whatever they may be.”

Good roommates don’t forget to be honest about each other’s feelings.

He stood in front of you dangerously close, the lingering smell of his cologne that reminded you of the ocean wafting into your nose as he drew near. His gaze beckoned you close without so much a word passing through his lips, and you felt his presence close in on the distance as he leaned against the railing. You softly batted your eyes, adjusting to your sense being overtaken by all things Minghao, mind just filled to the brim with Minghao, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

“You’re really committed to being a good roommate. I respect that,” you stated, harshly gulping. “Honesty. Where can I start?”

“Well, what are you thinking about right now?” He asked, face mere inches away from you, lips so plush you let out a wistful sigh.

“I’m thinking that…it’s really hard to think with your face so close in front of me.”

Despite that, he didn’t move, and instead he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your helix to feel your flustered warmth bloom between his fingers. “Fair enough. What else?”

You wrapped your hand around the railing, stabling yourself on the floor in hopes of not falling over on your two feet, your breath being stolen in real time by your roommate who was looking more and more inviting by the second.

“And if I knew any better, I’d think you're about to kiss me.”

“Let’s wager that then,” he said as he reeled even closer, his fingertips once in your ears now guiding your chin, letting the surface of your lips feel the ghost of his as your breaths mingled against one another. “You can predict one of two things. One, I kiss you. Or two, I pull away. You get a prize if your answer is correct.”

“How is that a fair wager? You can easily change your response depending on how I answer,” you pointed out, ultimately playing along.

“I won’t,” he reassured in a coaxingly smooth tone. “I’ve made my choice.”

You raised a brow, attempting to look only subtly intrigued when in reality you’ve let him enchant you. “What’s my prize?”

“Loser grants whatever the winner wishes.”

“That’s irresponsible.”

“Knowing you, your request would be far from unreasonable.”

“I’m talking about you.” You narrowed your eyes, swallowing at seeing him come at you so close. “But, okay. I’ll play.”

The corner of his lips lifted mischievously, tilting his head to the side as his eyes narrowed back at you. “So, what’s your answer?” 

Your eyes flickered up to him, rounded up in intrigue as you tried to follow his gaze. “You’ll…pull away. Public displays of affection are cute, but maybe not your cup of tea, at least not grand ones like kissing, unless maybe it’s one the cheek or on the forehead.”

He smiled and gently tilted his head, eyes piercing into yours and taking a sharp breath before pulling away, crossing his arms with a soft pout on his lips. “You’re good.”

You felt the sting of rejection despite your victory, as if you’d hoped you’d be wrong. That he’d take you right there against the railing and give you a fervid kiss that broke you down to your knees and you could even taste in your dreams, but a win was a win. A predicted loss was better than a false victory.

“I guess I won.”

He sighed defeatedly, crossing his arms. “You did. So tell me, what desire would you like for me to fulfill for you?”

You shuddered at his choice of words, clamping your legs together. “Well, what would you have wanted me to do if I got the answer wrong?”

“Is that your wish? For me to answer the question?”

You softly scoffed. “Don’t be so cheap.”

He rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his tea, “Doesn’t matter, you didn’t get it wrong. You get the wish. So go on, tell me your wish.”

“…Fine. Grant me your wish as if you had won.”

“You want me to grant my own wish? That defeats the entire purpose,” he chortled with knitted brows.

“It’s my wish, so come on. What’s your wish?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“And we didn't have to place bets, but it doesn't seem like there’s any rules against it, so go ahead. Tell me.”

Minghao sucked his teeth before complying. “Fine.” 

He moved toward you, hands settling over your hips and settling you on the floor beneath your feet as he gravitated toward, steadying his gaze on you. His face, inches away from you, and your breath hitched in your throat as he drew his lips near your ear. You heard the subtle squelch of his tongue as they licked his teeth, moments before the wish he dared you to grant poured out from his lush lips. “My wish is for you to…make me tea every morning, afternoon, evening, and every time I ask you to. Like my little tea gremlin.”

“Now that’s just evil, Xu Minghao,” You protested, lightly shoving him off.

He laughed. “No, it’s not! Think of it like pour over coffee.”

“Don’t try romanticizing it like it’s anything like my beautiful beans. Tea is tea. Coffee is coffee.”

“It was your wish to grant my wish.”

“Can I take it back?” You whined.

“It’d be dishonorable.”

You groaned. “Fine.”

He chuckled, “Let’s go home, hmm?”

Heading back home, you were embraced by a warm comfortable silence. There was a kind of silence that sanctioned your amicable living arrangement with Minghao to turn into something warmer, feverish even, something that you can’t even help but notice and your hands would occasionally graze one another on the way back, taking turn exchanging timid glances at you walked your path home.

“That was fun,” You admitted, taking off your shoes at the front door.

“Yeah, I think so. We should do it more often.”

You smiled at each other’s reflections as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, seeing you take the same tube of toothpaste and started brushing your teeth. You smiled as he purposely bumped into you, raising his eyebrow as you stared pointedly at him in the mirror, not expecting you to retaliate with a light shove. Ensuing a nudging war, you attacked each other’s shoulders, getting caught in fits of giggles before you forced yourselves to split up, knowing nothing would get done if you both let it go on.

“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked through the gaping door of your room as he cleared a glass a water before bedtime, freshly out of a shower and the smell of his clean, light fragrance was beguiling even from a distance.

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Mmh.” He stalked over in your direction, a feign innocent smile on his lips. “That's too bad. We only really have nights like these together, it seems at least only for a little while.”

“It is,” You said, lathering up the last bit of lotion up your legs, feeling his eyes on you as they traveled the path of your hands.

The silence engulfed you, as if both of you were waiting for the other to make a sudden move, yet both of you remained still. Like a predator with its prey, unsure who was who, you both stood with uncertainty and palpable tension hanging in the air, waiting for the other to strike when the moment was right. Even the usually confident Minghao stood back as he observed you from a distance, eyes flickering over at you as you strided slowly towards him guarded with crossed arms.

“I guess, I’ll go to sleep now,” You finally said.

His gaze softened, nodding. “Okay,” he smiled, “good night.”

“Good night, Minghao. Sleep well.”

If only you had taken your own words to heart. 

That night, you couldn’t help but stare back at the ceiling, fiddling with the covers as the night’s events replayed in your head like a home movie, your thoughts traveling at a million miles a minute, too fast for you to stop and collect them—let alone process them—and stole your precious slumber. So, as you lay in bed awake at night, squeezing your eyes shut and waiting for the night to take you, waiting for the fatigue and sleep to come, it never arrived. Instead, your eyes ripped open, heart pounding in your chest as you sat up from the mattress and tore the covers off your body. Your legs pushed you off the bed and lifted yourself off, carrying yourself out the room and out the hallway with determined steps until faltering at the threshold of another front door before you softly knocked. 

You turned the knob, the door creaked open and you peeked your head through to see your roommate on the other end in bed, torso visibly bare as he slowly sat up at his late night intrusion. “Hey,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “You’re up.”

“I think it’s the coffee,” you excused, clutching the edge of the door, “I can’t sleep.”

Wordlessly, he nodded, stretching an arm to beckon you towards him, and you slowly inched closer to him until you were completely under the covers. Occupying the space beside him, you nestled into the contours of his body as his arm cushioned the side of your head before facing one another, silence enveloping you. The only sound that bit into the silence was muted traffic, infinitely alive outside the walls of your confines. While it looked peaceful, and you felt as though you could melt into his arms, neither of you looked as if you were trying to sleep.

Rather, you stared at one another, making sleep even harder to attain as you traced every feature and took them in as if they were brushstrokes on a painting. Minghao may have worked with art every day, but he was a work of art in his own right, and you couldn’t help favor him above all others. You didn’t need a Van Gogh or Picasso, you had an original, a one of a kind Minghao.

And that’s when you saw his eyes begin to drift, lowering to the bottom half of your face, lips parting in intrigue as his breath fanned lightly against your cheeks. Your face flush in response, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth before they were caught, finding yourself doing the same with him and watching his mouth move in anticipation. You felt your pulse in your throat as much as you felt it between your legs, feeling arousal pooling and soaking your shorts.

“Do you want to wager another bet?” Minghao softly offered.

“What kind?” You breathed.

“The same bet, same prize. Do you think I’ll kiss you, or will I pull away?”

You mused at him, fingers extending toward him reluctantly, aiming for a lock of his hair laying stray on his forehead before smoothing it over his head, softly stroking him, feeling him lean into your touch. “Hmm, this time you’ll…kiss me,” you whispered with absolute certainty. “The tension is practically eating you alive.”

A grin stretched wide across his cheeks as a hand softly clasped over your face, thumb swiping across your cheek. “Right again.”

He closed the gap, slotting his lips between yours and languidly moving against you, letting you chase after his pace. You sighed against him, feeling his hand on your hip as he pulled your torso against his, the other rested against the nape of your neck as he reveled in your heat. Hands flying in his hair, you softly moaned as he kneaded your skin, feeling him trace the inside of your mouth with his tongue before he roughly pulled your weight from the mattress to topple you over him, letting your legs card between his.

“Minghao,” you quietly sounded against his lips, crushing your hips against his groin and hearing his sweet moan in response.

His muscles tensed as you pressed against him, while his legs clung to your thighs. His hands ran over the shape of your figure, unearthing an ungodly moan from your lips as he slipped beneath your shorts, etching over the curve of your ass and claiming your raw flesh in his hands, pushing you against him assertively.

You whimpered, grinding against him. “I know my wish.”

“Anything,” He tenderly mumbled.

“Call off work tomorrow.”

He smiled against your lips, bringing one of his knees to pin your bodies closer together. “Means you should too.”

“Oh, definitely,” You confirmed before reconnecting your mouths in a frenzied liplock.

Feeling the grind of your hips as his pelvis crushed against yours, his grunts slipped through every caress as his hand moved up your back. Soon, you started feeling something you had yet to see from Minghao in all your time living with him, the part of him you managed to evade but have envisioned a multitude of times, growing in his sweatpants and rubbing against your thigh the closer your bodies were.

“I have never wanted someone so bad,” He whispered in a soft ache. 

His hands crept underneath your shirt, brushing against your skin, pressing against the small of your back. Pressing his torso towards you, his erection adhered to your thigh, the tension coiling in your stomach burned like wildfire, at an unstoppable rage. “Minghao,” you mewled, impatience singeing on your tongue.

“Somehow, I can still taste coffee on your breath, but I don't really mind it. It tastes really good on you,” He admitted before kissing you deeper, his moans buzzing against your mouth, hungry and alive as his hands dug into your flesh with utter greed.

“You taste really good too.” Your hand body scoured south, cupping his size under your palm and tasting his gasp as you sucked him between your lips. “I wonder what else tastes good.”

“You are something else,” he mumbled, through quiet chuckles. “Just like you to act on impulse.”

You let out a light scoff. “You are so—”

“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” he softly warned with a smirk.

“I’m not the one you have to worry about finishing.”

You moved down, the covers draped over your head as you kept your eyes on him and resting on the hem of his sweats. Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat, gulping while he felt your nails lightly claw against his bare torso, tugging the waistband off the tent he forged, revealing the lack of underwear and restraint he had left, now sprung against your face.

“Shit,” you said grinning, claiming him by the shaft, thumbing over the precum glistening at the tip. “Even your cock looks pretty.”

A soft pink decorated his cheeks and a hand meekly shielded part of his face. “You staring is how I got myself hurt in the first place.”

“Then I’ll be careful not to hurt you this time—that is, unless you want me to.”

You spat on his cock, a translucent ribbon stretching from your tongue to his length. Your saliva lubing your knuckles, you squeezed his girth in your grip as you stroked and felt him pulse in your hands, growing bigger the tighter you clenched. Minghao’s arms propped himself up and behind him as his chest heaved, blood pumping with every drag of your fingers, shallow breaths slipping out of him as he fisted the sheets beneath him.

You kissed the curve of the head, lips pursed to wrap lightly around him, suckling down his shaft, and feeling him twitch against your mouth when you chuckled. He softly whined, his hand extended toward you to tenderly caress the side of your head and tacitly pleading with you as you teased him. Showing him mercy, you took him with an eager mouth, closing your lips around his cock as you steadied your gaze on him. Moans vibrating around his girth, your tongue tucked on the underside of his shaft, hands wrapped tightly around his base.

“Mmmh like that.” He swallowed, exhaling through his teeth the deeper you took him. His abdomen flexing overtly as you moaned around him, vibrated against his skin, your pink muscle tracing over his veins as you worked your jaw to hug a tighter grip. “God, you’re perfect. Don’t stop, please…” he panted.

He palmed at your hair headily, his motor skills not properly functioning as he sucked in his breath, feeling his presence explore deeper. He leveraged his hips to regain some ounce of control, but the sounds of moisture and squelching burned his ears, and the heart in his chest was running like a marathon. His eyes, fluttering in and out of focus, trained his gaze on you while his stomach tensed, grasping the vision of you getting wide-eyed and bold as you gingerly ate him alive. Burning the image into his retinas, it made him want to explode inside you.

Threading through your hair, he pulled them up and off your shoulders, showing off your pretty features, doing everything in his power not to give his climax an early appearance. “I’ve never seen such a pretty mouth take my cock so well. Then again, I’ve never had a pretty roommate like you, or anyone like you.”

Flustered from the flattery, you sucked him like your life depended on it as you grew hot, making Minghao’s task to regain control strenuous to achieve. You hollowed out your cheeks, leaving no room to breathe, and felt him in your throat as your vision rolled to behind your skull to the point your language deduced to the sounds of gagging. You gripped his hips, nails plunged into his flesh as your drool dribbled down his groin, slobbering over his cock in an erratic, hungry mess.

“Yes, like that. My god,” He praised through ragged breaths, hips jerking gently up into you. He lightly threw his head back, the urge to ram himself down your throat getting exceedingly more tempting, but he suppressed it as he dug his nails into his own palms. “I’m so close to cumming, can I–in your mouth or should I…?”

You hummed a confirmation before you swallowed him whole until you met the base, meeting his groin as he vanished inside you, breathing oxygen not even an afterthought. Images in front of you dulled in color, pictures shapeless and unclear, and you pushed past your boundaries to let him find home in your mouth, deeply intent with him finishing inside you one way or the other.

“F…f…fuck...”

Pleasure rippling through him, Minghao pushed himself up from his position, thrusting weakly as he cradled your head, pouring his thick, ivory load into your mouth, which was insistent on receiving every drop. He filled your cheeks, allowing warmth to coat the inside of your mouth as he tenderly stroked your hair in gratitude. Cupping your cheeks as he let his hips falter, he gently pulled himself out of your mouth, amused at how carefully you were trying to not let any of his cum seep past your lips as you sat between his legs.

His fingers danced under your chin. “Are you gonna swallow?” Minghao tiredly chuckled.

With smiling eyes, you tilted your head, as if asking if you should.

He pushed your hair behind you, softly pressing his lips against your tightly shut lips. “Don’t if you don’t want to.”

An idea occurred to you then, and in an instant you pushed yourself up to board him as your knees took either side of him, looming over him. His hands naturally found your waist as you lifted his chin, eyes staring at you curiously as his hands ran up body and gently clawed down, awaiting your next move. You then thumbed over his bottom lip before dipping between the slit of his mouth and saw it naturally part, taking the digit and settling it between his teeth.

Now confidently, you lowered your head, swirling the contents in your mouth before pushing your thumb deeper, prying the entrance wider, and finding no protest as he sanctioned it. He dug the pads of his digits into your flesh in anticipation. His eyes fluttering, he watched as your mouth withdrew the generous gift he gave to you before you gave it right back to him as it gracefully streamed down on his pulsing, eager tongue. And nothing satisfied you more than hearing him sigh wistfully as it landed.

It sent you shivers how beautiful he looked despite how vulgar the act was. Only Xu Minghao could make tasting his own cum look so ethereal, and it only made you wonder what other things a face this beautiful was willing to do. You swiped whatever fell from the corner of his lips with your thumb, sucking the residue like leftovers before you connected your mouths, sharing and tasting his lewd tang in violent swirls, and pulling away to watch it stretch between your tongues.

“I guess toothbrushes aren’t the only things you like to share,” Minghao teased before pushing you on your back, grinding his resurrecting arousal against your clothed heat and lathering the thick, viscous substance flat between your tongues in your mouths as it dribbled down your chins until there was nothing but slobber. It was a mess, and the most unmannerly you’ve ever seen him, and you’ve never been more turned on.

“My turn.”

With a rough hand, he tugged you by your legs towards him, hearing you let out a yelp, and shoved down your shorts to expose your glistening, mouth-watering, arousal soaked entrance. Be still his heart. He felt himself throb seeing you ruin his bed, but hell if he wasn't going to be sucking those juices out of the sheets until he’d tasted every drop.

He kicked off his sweats, leaving him entirely vulnerable while you witnessed his cock slowly twitch back to life before he laid on his stomach between your arched legs. “If we want to talk about pretty things, your pussy is high up on that list.”

Not waiting for a response, he licked a thick stripe up your inner thigh, flickering over your folds before sucking them in his mouth, using the tip of his tongue to tease your entrance. He felt the flutter of your core before spitting, lathering at the juices, coating at entrance but not peeking to see what was inside. “You’re already so wet, fuck.” 

“Hao…” You whined.

“Mmmh, I love how you sound,” he chuckled, running long strokes up your slit, wedged through you with every swipe, looking arm around your leg to hold you in place as his thumb brushed over your clit. “Are your moans always this delicious? Or are they reserved for when you’re thinking about me?” 

Shaking your head, you were too turned on to answer verbally, while his mouth closed around your clit and sucked, utilizing his fingers to assume their previous position. You clenched your stomach, fisting into the sheets as you spread your legs, feeling them already clam up from the tension as his tongue flicked against your sensitive bud in unison with his fingers twisted up into, and you couldn’t help but writhe underneath him.

“Yes, spread those pretty legs for me,” he encouraged with a haughty smile before burying his face, his moans vibrating up your walls as his tongue massaged your walls and tasted your cock pulsing nectar, sending chills up your spine.

You mewled, and feeling reserved, you held your hands up to your face to shield the tears collecting at your eyes threatening to fall, but Minghao grabbed you by the wrists, roughly pinning them to the bed.

His eyes narrowed back at you before softening almost menacingly, “Don’t cover your pretty face, watch me.”

“But—”

“I want you to watch me fuck your pretty pussy with my mouth. Don’t make me say it twice.” He warned before he got you a quiet nod, earning you a kiss against your inner thigh.

His hand flattened against your inner thighs again, pressing them further away from another and delving his tongue deeper as he rubbed your clit, working your insides until he tasted every inch of you possible. He buried his face, but his eyes were clear, staring at you as he worked his jaw, engorging with his mouth that sent you above and beyond and his eyes that saw you at the result of your undoing. You had no choice but to cling on, freeing yourself from his grasp to have your fingers fly in his hair, navigating him as you took him for a joy ride, his tongue shifting gears as it picked up pace.

“S-shit!” You rolled your hips, threading your fingers through his locks and clamping his head between your thighs as you pushed him deeper.

“Yes, ride my face—fuck, use me, please,” he pleaded in a cracked voice, pouring his heart into his feast until he was practically suffocating, worth it to worship you and bring you to the highest peak of your pleasure.

Your legs trembled as his moans infiltrated your heat, the intense flicks of his tongue titillating you to the brink of ecstasy until he used it to fuck you in time with his fingers thrusting inside, clutching you as you held him in place and grinding against him. “My god, Hao!”

Hips shaking, you bucked into his mouth, and even after your release, he made no effort to stop, lifting you to his mouth as he got on his knees, eating you like a meal he’d never have again until he worked his tongue raw, tasting you and only you as your cum coated his mouth. You squirmed, the suction of his lips on your sensitive core in tandem with his tongue viciously swirling inside you overwhelming you beyond words, unable to kick him off as he held both your knees above his head.

“You’re gonna kill me, Hao,” you cried desperately. “Just put it in me.”

He chuckled before setting you down, meeting your lips halfway as he stroked his fully erect cock, massaging the evening’s concoction against your tastebuds, mingling the contrasting flavors as they battled in your mouth while the knowledge of it all pebbled your skin. Meanwhile, he ran his hands over you beneath your shirt, found your nipples, rolling them against his thumbs as his cock rubbed between your folds, ebbing your moans as they buzzed against his lips. “What if I want to play with you first?” He taunted.

You whined, brushing your lips repeatedly over his. “I want you inside me.”

“You’re cute even when you’re needy,” he gushed.

You clasped your hands over his soft, warm cheeks. “Minghao, please…”

He playfully rolled his eyes, kissing into your palm then down your wrist before his teeth playfully started nibbling at your skin. “Fine, because you asked so nicely. Just to let you know, though, I don’t have a condom on me right now, but I’m clean.”

“Then, we don’t need one.”

He grinned, stroking the back of your head. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Rubbing his tip down your slit, he savored your whimpers as he drew circles against your clit before sliding his length through your folds and stretching your walls, letting you slowly adjust to his presence. Your jaw slightly dropped as you took a sharp inhale, fingers digging into his shoulders and clinging on to him before you felt him sink deeper inside you, pacing his thrusts in a steady rhythm. Your eyes flit to meet his, feeling the back and forth of his hips as they snapped, while you reveled in each collision.

“Yes please…”

Before losing himself in his pleasure, he was determined to remember how you looked getting lost in yours, taking in your features as they distorted under his care. He first found your eyes–lost in a galaxy with an infinite amount of stars out of the way. Then, his eyes started to follow the slope of your cheeks, flushed to the touch against the back of his hand, saliva leaking out of your swollen lips. And your body with the shirt adhered to you by the sweat on your skin, clinging to your form and proving to him time and time again that you were not only the object of his desires, you were something straight out of his dreams.

“You look, taste, and feel good? Where have you been all my life? Really?” He landed a harsh thrust, pressing down on your nipples and smiling manically at how you whimpered in response, clutching you as you shuddered against him. “You like that?”

You nodded, clawing your hand up his back.

“Mmh, me too,” he drew his lips to your ear. “And I like you. A lot. I wouldn’t let someone go on and use my toothbrush for months if I didn’t.” He slowed down his thrusts, cupping your face to meet your eyes. “You like me too, right?”

Feeling your ears burn, you frantically nodded again, mewling after you felt him nip at them, teeth scraping under your earlobe before an open mouth pressed against the side of your neck. The warmth of his breath sweltering against you as you struggled to carry on with the conversation Minghao was determined to have.

“Yeah, you want me to take you on a real date?” He said into the nape of your neck, moaning into your skin as he dragged his hips, rutting into you like an animal.  He barely made out your soft ‘yes’s in your sharp gasps. He gritted his teeth, taking you by the hips, pushing himself flushed against you. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he groaned.

His hips took flight while he separated your mouth in a loud moan, feeling you becoming malleable under his touch and growing weaker as you recoiled against him. He lifted your shirt above your chest and neared your stiff peaks, rolling your bud against the base of his tongue as he pinched the other, moving out of pure instinct. You threw your head back, going mad with sexual gratification. Your body spasmed out of your control, yet you craved more.

“Harder,” You gasped.

He scoffed under his breath in disbelief. “You want even more?”

“Yes…I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel everything that’s yours, Minghao.”

Knees buckling at your titillating request, he gripped your ass in both palms, clutching you against him as he rammed himself up inside you, and you’re forced to hold on. “I’ll do you one better,” he offered, “why don’t I just make you mine?”

“I…Oh, god…” Your brain was becoming mush, only processing the sound, taste, smell, sensation of Minghao’s cock as he plunged himself inside you. It fogged up your thoughts, clouded your judgement, and only formed incoherent gibberish that took place of real vocabulary as they passed through your swollen lips.

“Be mine, hmm?” He asked, pleading. “That way I can be yours.”

Captivated by his words, you nodded, feeling him suck the life out of you as your body felt close to giving out, the hilt of his cock bottoming out inside you. You anchored your legs around him, following his pace before you felt something within reach, just seconds away from ripping a scream out of your throat that would surely ensue a noise complaint from one of your neighbors.

“Hao, I’m going to cum, I’m really close,” you meekly warned.

His hand settled against your thigh, nodding. “I can feel it. You’re shaking so hard. Let me have it, I’ll catch you. Every last bit of you.”

Ecstasy was just a word, but Minghao was everything, and you could breathe in that everything. 

Your bodies crushed against each other, lost in heat as you became one. Breaths blended, bodies embraced, only faltering after you long finished the initial orgasms, coming back for more. You embraced  the sheer carnivorous lust that quelled this several month long push and pull, adhering you by the sweat misted on each other's skin before your mouths tenderly met repeatedly.

Sleep felt futile, while the night felt everlasting. Minghao’s company was more than you could ever ask for, and by the time you did sleep, you were too tired to move. You collapsed against each other, bodies drowning in each other’s releases, sheets and pillows stained by the arousal from the evening’s lack of inhibitions. Minghao should’ve been just as tired, but instead he tended to your tired body, leaving kisses in its wake as he cleaned you off and slept alongside you in your clean bed, letting him worry about laundry in the morning.

With your eyes closed, mind in another world, Minghao was brushing the hair away from your face, softly smiling as you gently stirred and nestled closer to him. In response, he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, warmth blooming in his chest as a grin developed on your face.

“I’ll take you on a proper date. I promise,” he said while you slept. “And If I don’t, pull the bad roommate card on me. You can punish me however you like.”

“…ok, I will.”

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men as Omegas (🫣😳)

AN: I have no shame. Top reader rights. IK i suck at abo, i'm working on it people. Forgive me 😭 (I do not own these characters- don’t sue me pls)

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: Omegaverse

Rafayel:

Soft, cuddly, clingy, and the perfect blend of bratty, Rafayel isn’t afraid to play into his omega stereotype. He receives endless courtship proposals, but this little mermaid is already sold on his fated mate.

And when you rescue him, his heart only confirms what his soul already knew.

You are the alpha of his dreams. The dream who stepped into reality to save him. The realization makes him swoon.

He falls in love in the days of his naivety, offering you a scale from his tail in an act of quiet, instinctive devotion.

And when you take it, when you press it against your chest like a sacred vow, he knows.

He was always meant to be yours, no matter what trials your future holds.

Xavier:

The treasured omega crown prince of Philos, Xavier has spent years enduring grueling, mind-numbing courting balls, all for the sake of political alliances.

By the time he chooses you, his trusted knight, it isn’t because of love. It’s because he’s tired.

Tired of being a trophy for an alpha he doesn’t want, tired of playing the part of the perfect prince. He just wants to be done with it.

So he takes the only logical escape in front of him. A marriage of convenience.

He never expected to fall in love.

But somehow, through quiet nights and gentle hands, you change everything. Your kindness reminds him that he is more than his title, that his purpose extends beyond the throne.

Just hold him close and let him nap in your arms.

Because in a world of politics and crowns, you are the only place he can rest. For you, he will travel worlds beyond time.

Zayne:

You are both idiots in love.

You grew up together. Playing as children, bickering as teens, having each other’s backs as adults.

He never saw you as a mate. You were just his friend.

His dorm mate, who fended off riled-up alphas, who gifted him the softest blankets and cardigans when his scars ached. Who brewed coffee before med school boards and kept a supply of his suppressants on you at all times. You were kind, reliable, familiar.

That’s it, right?

Wrong.

He realizes it a little too late.

Especially when he wakes up in your bed, your scents mixed together, tangled in warmth that neither of you question.

You were never just his friend.

You were his safe place.

And maybe, just maybe, he was yours too, he thinks as he lays back down, resting his head on your chest.

Sylus:

From the moment you bowed before the Dragon Lord, your heart was his.

He, who owned the treasures of the world, was given you. A peasant beta, tribute by an indebted village.

You had nothing to return to.

Your home, brimming with siblings, had no space for another mouth to feed. At least this way, your family would be given a year’s worth of food.

Sylus did not favor mundane things.

In his den of glimmering gold, you were nothing more than an unworthy servant, bound by duty.

And yet, he could not ignore you.

Not when you, a mere human, kept doing the most human of things: cooking meals (which he did not require), washing laundry (who did that for dragons?), dusting his endless hoard (a futile task).

You were never worthy of being his mate.

And yet, somehow, there was no one closer.

You weren’t even an alpha.

But Sylus didn’t need one.

Beyond ranks and positions, there was simply presence.

And somehow, without ever meaning to, you became his greatest treasure.

In a world that did not want you, he treasured you.

Caleb:

Ever since childhood, your fates have been opposites. His in the skies, yours deep in the core of the earth.

There couldn’t be a pairing more different.

And yet— You were the one who held him when his scent shifted, the one who comforted him through the awkward, agonizing growth spurts of adolescence.

You were the one who fought for him to enter the aerospace academy as an omega.

And then, one day, he was taken from you.

And all that remained was grief. Never ending grief and hollowness.

The one who flew in the skies had been your anchor, and without him, you lost your place in the world.

So when he returns, changed, worn, distant, you find yourself asking the one question you aren’t sure you want answered:

"What did they do to you?"

And more importantly,

"Are you still mine?"

[byhuenii]

YOU-ology

Pairing Bucky Barnes x Reader

Syonpsis Bucky has been trying to understand you—your habits, your silences, your smiles. You speak in gestures more than words, in shared glances and cups of coffee left just right.The problem? He doesn’t know what a “love language” is. It sounds like a literal dialect. So naturally, he puts on his reading glasses, makes a study binder, and asks Peter Parker to teach him Gen Z slang, but he knows one thing for sure: if loving you means learning everything—he’s ready to graduate with honors.

(Inspired by TXT 'Love Language')

Word Count 2.6k

Tags + Warning Soft misunderstanding / no angst, fluff overload, accidental confession via ASL, soft!bucky

— YOU-ology Researching you-ology, all about you, from A to Z

“I can’t read your mind,” he says, voice low. “But I want to.”

The sunlight hits just right in the Brooklyn apartment. You’re sitting on the windowsill, nursing your third cup of coffee, and Bucky’s leaning against the kitchen counter like the world isn’t tilting every time you look away from him.

You don’t speak right away. You’re used to silence. He’s learning that.

He watches as you stir your coffee absentmindedly. You always stir five times. Clockwise. Never more, never less.

He’s been keeping track of things like that.

Like how you always set out two mugs in the morning, even when he doesn’t sleep over. How you keep an extra blanket folded at the end of the couch even though he insists he doesn’t get cold. How you hand him a protein bar without asking if he’s eaten.

You don’t say much. But you do a lot.

And Bucky? Bucky’s trying to figure out if this—whatever this is—means what he hopes it does.

He’s never been great with feelings. Too many years pretending he didn’t have any. But with you, he wants to get it right.

“I think I might be speaking the wrong dialect of love,” he tells Peter Parker seriously. “Is there a Duolingo for romance?”

Bucky has fought in wars, survived brainwashing, outpaced death—and yet, nothing has confused him quite like you.

Well, you, and this strange thing Peter said over lunch the other day.

"Oh, love language? Yeah, it's like how people give and receive affection. You gotta know your partner's love language to really connect.”

Love language?

Bucky had blinked at Peter from behind his coffee, the words rattling around like marbles in a tin can. “There’s a language for that?”

Peter had shrugged like it was obvious. “Yeah, there are five. Physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gifts. You know… the usual.”

Bucky had nodded slowly, like he understood. He did not understand. He thought "acts of service" was a military term.

Back home, Bucky had pulled out his reading glasses (the ones Sam doesn’t know he owns) and Googled:

“What is love language.” “Love language translation.” “How to know if you’re good at love.”

Twenty tabs later, he had a headache, a notebook full of bullet points, and a tiny post-it with your name surrounded by little doodled hearts he definitely didn’t mean to draw.

STUDY NOTES:

☑ Quality time → you always wait for him after missions

☑ Acts of service → you make his tea how he likes it (2 sugar, no judgment)

☑ Physical touch → light shoulder pats, a knee against his under the table, casual-but-not-casual hand touches

☑ Gifts → brought him a vintage Captain America comic once. He almost cried.

☑ Words of affirmation → okay this one’s harder. You’re quiet. You show love, but don’t say it much. Still… he catches you looking. That means something.

He circles the last one twice.

—

One morning, Bucky shows up to your door with a homemade dictionary titled:

“You-ology: A Comprehensive Field Guide to Understanding You” (Vol. 1 — Beta Edition)

It’s leather-bound. Handwritten. Indexed.

There’s a doodle of you on page one that looks suspiciously like it was done by a man lying on his stomach with his feet up and his legs kicking.

You flip through it, trying not to grin. “You made me a… glossary?”

Bucky pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’ve been decoding your signals.”

“You’ve been—what?”

“You say things without saying them. And I figured maybe if I could learn your dialect, I could say things back.”

You’re stunned. Speechless. Warm all over.

“Bucky,” you say, “you’re literally learning a love language like it’s a spy code.”

He squints. “It’s not?”

Once Bucky learns that love languages aren’t actual dialects, he’s a little embarrassed. For five whole seconds.

Then he decides:

“Fine. Then I’ll try all of them. Just in case.”

And he does. With alarming dedication.

Words of Affirmation: You wake up to a note on your fridge:

“You’re the smartest person I know. Even smarter than Banner. (Don’t tell him.) - B”

And another on your coffee cup:

“You deserve the world. But I brought you coffee instead. I hope that’s okay.”

When you turn around, he’s leaning on the counter, flushed red. “Too much?”

Acts of Service: You offhandedly mention your sink is dripping.

The next day it’s fixed. And your drawer doesn’t stick anymore. And your laptop’s updated. And your favorite hoodie that you thought you lost? Folded on your bed.

He salutes you on his way out like it’s a secret mission. “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”

Quality Time: He clears a Saturday. No missions. No distractions.

You watch four movies, eat terrible microwave popcorn, and fall asleep on his shoulder.

He doesn’t move. Not for hours. His arm goes numb. He doesn’t care.

He tells Sam later: “Best damn day I’ve had in decades.”

Gifts: He leaves a flower on your desk. Not a rose. A tiny forget-me-not. The tag says:

“This reminded me of your laugh. Kind of small. Kind of magic.”

You keep it in a book. He notices. Doesn’t say a word. Smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

Physical Touch: He used to flinch. Now? He leans in.

You touch his hair once and he forgets how to breathe. Next day, he wears it slightly messy. Hopes you’ll do it again.

One day, you reach for his hand. He holds it like it’s fragile. Like you’re holding him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your palm.

“Just… letting you know I’m here,” he murmurs.

You squeeze back. “I know.”

Peter Parker ends up being his unofficial relationship coach.

“Wait—what’s a ‘green flag?’” “Peter, what does ‘simp’ mean?” “Is it normal to dream about their smile for six nights in a row or is that brain damage?” “Be honest. Am I down bad?”

Peter: “...You’re down astronomical, sir.”

—

One rainy night, you both get stuck in the Tower’s media room during a storm.

Bucky fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie. You notice he’s scribbled something in the corner of his You-ology notebook.

You tilt your head. “What’s that?”

He doesn’t look up. Just says, “It’s… new vocabulary.”

He passes you the notebook.

 He wants to understand you like he’s memorizing a secret language only the two of you speak.

He clears his throat. “I’ve been… trying to study you. Is that weird?”

Your brows raise slightly in amusement. “Study me?”

“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his short hair. “Like—figure out what you’re saying when you’re not actually saying anything.”

You look at him now, eyes softening. “You’ve been reading my… ‘you-ology?’”

He laughs. It’s a quiet, rusty thing. Rare. But so warm when it happens.

“I guess I have,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I know you like your coffee sweet but pretend you don’t. I know you always hum when you’re nervous, and you’ll never ask for help, but you’ll stay up until 2 a.m. helping me.”

His metal hand flexes. Nervous.

“And I know you look at me like I mean something… but I don’t know if I’m reading it right.”

Your voice is soft. “And what if you are?”

He stops.

His heart stops.

The sun hits your cheek just right, your smile so shy it breaks something open in him.

“I don’t talk much,” you add, “because I never really had to. Not with the right people. But I make sure they’re warm. That they eat. That they know I’m there, even when I can’t say it out loud.”

He swallows hard.

“Then I guess,” Bucky says slowly, stepping into your space, “I’ve been speaking your love language this whole time.”

You smile, fingers brushing the inside of his wrist. You trace the edge where skin meets metal. He shivers.

“And you?” you whisper. “What’s your language?”

He thinks. He’s never been asked that.

Maybe it’s not words. Maybe it’s quiet, safe mornings and the way he remembers your favorite color. Maybe it’s standing between you and the crowd even when there’s no danger. Maybe it’s showing up. Not running.

“I think,” he says, “it’s time. Sitting with you. Watching dumb movies. Letting you talk or not talk. Just… being.”

You nod. “Then you’ve been speaking mine too.”

His hand curls around yours.

Chapter 6: When I’m With You, Everything Makes Sense

Coffee = comfort

Silence = trust

Laughter = home

You = safe

You = mine? (still unsure. researching.)

Your throat tightens. “You big dork.”

He glances up, hopeful. “But… like, a lovable dork?”

You kiss his cheek. “Fluently lovable.”

Weeks later, you hand him a little leather journal.

On the front:

“Bucky-ese: A Guide to Loving You Back (YOU-ology)”

He flips it open.

Page One:

“Your love language is: All of them. But especially being seen. And I see you.”

He presses the book to his chest like it’s holy.

Then: “You wanna watch that stupid baking show and drink tea out of mismatched mugs like we’re 80?”

He grins. “That’s my favorite dialect.”

There’s no grand declaration. No fiery kiss.

Just soft, sacred quiet.

But that’s the thing about love languages. You don’t always need to hear them. Sometimes, you just feel them.

And Bucky?

He feels you.

—

Lately, he’s gotten really into studying TikToks and music videos you like. You walk in one night and he’s watching TXT’s “Love Language” choreo on repeat.

He’s squinting at the screen, rewinding and mimicking one particular moment — where the members make the “I Love You” sign in ASL, fingers shaped just right.

He sees you enter and lights up like a puppy who just figured out how to sit.

“Hey! I think I cracked it. That hand thing—like, this?” He does it—thumb, index, pinky up. “It’s like, modern slang for love, right? Like Gen Z emoji but with your hands?”

You pause mid-step.

Your heart thuds.

“Bucky… do you know what that actually means?”

He blinks. “Yeah! It’s like, ‘you’re cool’ or something? Peter said it’s used in dances a lot. You know, like ‘🤟 vibes only.’”

You stare at him. He’s still holding it up—so proud, so casual—like he didn’t just set fire to your entire nervous system.

“James.”

Your voice is soft. He stops.

You step forward slowly, take his hand in both of yours, and gently lower it.

“That sign isn’t slang,” you whisper, eyes searching his face. “It’s American Sign Language. It means ‘I love you.’ Literally. Not ‘cool.’ Not ‘vibes.’ Love.”

Silence.

His eyes go huge.

His mouth parts—then shuts. Then opens. Then shuts again. He is rebooting.

“…Oh.”

Then—quiet panic.

“…Oh.”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “Wait. Wait, I’ve been doing that for, like, three days. To you. While you were making dinner. On the couch. That one time in the elevator—”

You nod, very calm. “Yes. You told me you loved me 17 times. And yes, I counted.”

He is bright red. Apocalyptic red. He looks like he might spontaneously combust.

“I—I didn’t know—*I mean I do, I mean not like—*I mean obviously I do—” He’s flustered and fumbling, hands waving.

You grab them. Hold them gently. Steady.

“You really do?”

His voice is barely a breath. “Yeah.”

Your smile cracks through the tension like sunrise.

“Then say it again.”

You release one of his hands. He looks at you—heart on his sleeve, nerves frayed.

And slowly, deliberately, he lifts his hand again.

Thumb, index finger, pinky.

I love you.

And this time—he knows exactly what it means.

BONUS:LATER THAT NIGHT!!

He flops onto your couch face-down and groans into a pillow. “I confessed on accident like some kind of boyband backup dancer.”

You’re sitting next to him, stroking his hair. “It was perfect.”

He peeks up. “You sure?”

You grin. “Fluently perfect.”

He groans again—but he’s smiling.

—

“You’re my safe place, and I think I just proposed to you using the wrong hand sign, oh my god—can we rewind time or am I gonna die here on this rug?”

Bucky has a Plan™️.

After accidentally telling you “I love you” 17 times in ASL (without realizing it) and then on purpose (with realization), he’s decided he wants to learn a full phrase.

Something simple. Something sweet.

Something like:

“I’m happy with you.” Or maybe: “You’re my home.”

So he goes to Peter. Again.

Peter, to his eternal regret, pulls out a basic ASL learning app and walks Bucky through the signs.

Problem is, Bucky’s fingers don’t cooperate yet. His muscle memory is stubborn. His brain is full of you and short-circuiting.

What he meant to learn was:

“You make me feel safe.” (“YOU — MAKE — ME — FEEL — SAFE”)

What he accidentally signs, in a combination of nervousness and fumbled syntax, is:

“YOU — MAKE — ME — YOUR — WIFE.”

He doesn’t realize it.

You, who actually knows ASL, absolutely do.

It’s a quiet afternoon in your apartment. Rain against the window. Music low.

Bucky has that look again—the one where he’s clearly been practicing something all day and is about to do it nervously but dramatically.

You’re curled up on the couch when he stands in front of you, face serious, eyes way too shiny.

He clears his throat.

“Okay. I’ve been learning more. ASL. Because I wanna speak it the way you do. With your hands. With your heart.”

You melt. Instantly. He’s fidgeting, biting his bottom lip. He looks like a storm in a sweater.

Then he signs.

Slowly. Carefully.

“YOU — MAKE — ME — YOUR — WIFE.”

You freeze.

Your eyes go wide. Your heart? Gone. Brain? Empty.

Bucky is beaming.

“Did I get it right?”

You blink. “Um. Almost.”

“Yeah?” He looks so proud. “I practiced for, like, six hours. I wanted to say you make me feel… y’know, safe. Like… like I’m home.”

There is a pause.

Then you start laughing.

Not a mean laugh—a breathless, overwhelmed, you-are-so-stupidly-perfect-how-is-this-my-life laugh.

Bucky’s face crumples. “Wait. Did I say something weird?”

You can barely get the words out. “James Buchanan Barnes—you just proposed to me.”

He freezes.

Like—winter soldier frozen mid-mission freezes.

“…Wait. I what?”

You take his hands gently and show him.

“WIFE.” You do the correct sign. “SAFE.” You show the actual one. “Different hand shape.”

Bucky looks between your hands and his own like they’ve betrayed him.

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“…Did I really just—?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“…Oh god.”

He immediately flops to his knees, hands in his hair, face in his palms. He’s red everywhere.

“I didn’t mean to propose. I can’t propose like that—there was no ring, no speech, no flowers—you were in socks—”

You blink. “Would it have been better if I wasn’t in socks?”

“YES. I mean NO. I mean—GOD.”

He’s pacing now. “Do we take it back? Is it binding? Is this like vampire rules where once you say it it’s done—I didn’t even kneel on purpose—”

You walk up to him.

Cup his cheeks.

He’s still spiraling.

“…Was it weird? Was it bad? Was it too soon? Do you wanna break up with me and then date me again so I can do it right?”

You shake your head, smiling.

“Bucky.”

He stops.

You lean in, press your forehead to his.

Then you sign, clear as day:

YES.

He freezes.

“Wait. Yes what?”

You say it out loud this time. Soft. Steady.

“Yes. I’ll be your wife.”

His breath leaves him like someone knocked it out with a hug.

“…Even though I proposed by accident?”

You kiss his nose.

“Especially because of that.”

Bucky buys a ring the very next day.

He still does the ASL sign for “I love you” every time you leave the room. You never get used to it.

And one day, he signs perfectly:

YOU — ARE — MY — SAFE — PLACE.

You tear up.

And then, just to mess with him, you sign back:

MAKE — ME — YOUR — HUSBAND.

He drops his drink.

You both laugh so hard you forget the world.

(You've got mail!) well well well..WELL WELL WELLLLLLLL. this has been fermenting in my drafts so uh hereee. its very fluffy and cute and so much grandpa barnes code. i whole heartily believe hes such a cutie like you can not convince me otherwise. stream txt love language tho! i rmbered i had this while i was kinda making a txt series avengers masterlist so uhhhh yeah! ALSO I HAD NO CLUE THAT HUENING KAI WAS TRYNA LEARN MY YOU-OLOGY IM BLUSHINGGG

Tag List (For Mr. James Buchanan Barnes is open)

@bbsbrina @herejustforbuckybarnes @barnesandbouquets

[jejewonster]

Milk and Cookies

do you like my cookies? they’re made just for you. 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

❁  pairing: chwe vernon x f.reader ❁  genre: friends to fucking, aphrodisiacs, smut (MDNI 18+) ❁  wc: 1.8k

— vernon doesn't know how badly you want him. hopefully the chocolates you bought will help him see you differently.

❁  smut tags/warning: DUBCON, buzzcut vern, aphrodisiac chocolate is used to coerce vernon, dryhumping, penetrative sex, creampie, thigh fucking?, choking, reader is manipulative, reader acts like vernon's sexual advances are unsolicited at first. ❁ a/n: read my guidlines. don't like don't read. block me if this isn't your cup of tea. vernon is meant to have a buzzcut but i couldn't find a good pic to make into a banner :( sry! thank you to @sunniques for beta reading ♡.

it’s not your fault that your best friend doesn’t realize how much you want to fuck him.

despite how many times you’ve tried to make it obvious how badly you’ve ached for him to give you what you need finally, none of your plans have worked in your favour. 

“hey, you ready?” vernon calls out for you. 

after clearing your mind from your depraved train of thoughts, you turn to him from your kitchen to smile back at his awaiting figure that’s sat on your couch. leaning against the headrest, his arms propped up against the cushions with his legs spread. 

it doesn’t help that he’s agreed to your remarks on how good a buzzcut would look on him. the lack of hair on his head is new and exciting, and you wish to feel the buzzed hair graze against your inner thighs. 

“yeah, just grabbing a few snacks. gimme a minute,” you smile, although you can feel the way it doesn’t fully reach your eyes. 

taking the box of chocolates from the fridge, you made sure not to forget the most important component of your plan. if anyone had found out about your idea, they would call you insane, but you couldn’t care less. 

you’re not accustomed to being denied what you need, or what you crave either. it’s not your fault you’re tastebuds have been tingling for someone as sweet as honey. 

staring down at the chocolate box in your hands, a smile begins to creep onto your face. vernon won’t be able to ignore the undeniable sexual attention after this. 

the aphrodisiac-filled candy is cold in your hands, but in a few hours, it’ll be a warm memory of tonight’s events. 

taking your designated spot beside vernon, you hand him the chocolate. 

“here have one, i got it the other day and thought we could try them together,” you nudge the box of confections towards him. 

“sure. these look expensive as fuck? where’d you get them?” 

shrugging your shoulders you act as nonchalant as you can, “nowhere special, just some place downtown.” 

𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖ 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

vernon’s skin is scalding. he isn’t sure what the hell is wrong with him, but his body temperature has gotten higher with every passing second. there’s an ache in cock that he’s so desperate to release but there’s no way he’s going to be able to go to the bathroom with the situation he’s in. 

with you beside him on the couch, the two of you shifted into a position where you’re both lying down facing the TV. the sounds coming from the screen are nothing in comparison to the pulse that rings in his ears. 

one arm is placed securely around your waist, legs tangled along the cushions. you’re way too close. close enough that he can feel the way your tiny sleeping shorts leave nothing up to the imagination. the curve of your ass is pressed tightly against his growing erection. vernon is a hundred percent sure you can feel how hard he is right now, yet he’s still frozen in place, not wanting to reveal his dirty little secret even further. 

sneaking a peek at your face, your eyes are still trained on the movie, but vernon can’t handle it anymore. he needs to do something. anything. 

it’s like a shot to his chest, you squirm under his grasp and if he wasn’t so aware, a groan would’ve left his lips. instead, he sucks in a breath, doing everything in his power to create the smallest bit of distance between you. 

“hey, are you feeling warm?” he asks you, trying to distract himself from the way the blood is draining his body and rushing into his semi hard on.

“no, not really? are you okay?” you turn, eyes piercing into his soul. 

“a little bit,” he sighs, not realizing he’s been holding his breath this whole time. 

you stiffen up, and the smallest graze of your ass against him has his brain turning to mush. vernon is filled to the brim with confusion and frustration, and it’s even worse that he can’t seem to get an ounce of relief. not unless he wants to embarrass himself in front of the girl he’s been pining over for years. 

“i can go grab you some–v-vernon!” your sentence is cut off, vernon cannot have you standing up just to see how hard he is right now. 

“n-no it’s fine just–just stay where you are,” vernon breathes out. 

the look you give him is filled with confusion, but you do what he says anyways. 

“fine. let’s finish the movie first.” 

snuggling into him more, vernon’s breath hitches. self-control slipping away from his fingertips the more you situate yourself into a more comfortable position. he’s really starting to lose it now, whatever morals he had left were thrown out the window with his conscience. 

as if he’s being controlled by a puppeteer, his hips find themselves moving on their own. rutting into the crevice of your ass, the shorts bunching up to reveal the supple skin underneath. vernon’s brain is fogged with arousal and no matter how badly he feels for using you; the relief he’s receiving overrides every single one of the morals he’s set up for himself. 

“A-ah–vernon? w-what’s going on?” you whimper as he continues to grind into you. 

“i-i’m sorry. i really tried to ignore it, but shit, it feels so fucking good,” vernon groans from behind you. 

the nape of your neck is in front of him, and hides his face in it, not wanting to reveal the rosy blush sprawled on his cheeks. the friction between you two creates a tent to strain against his pants, his large hands move down towards your soft thighs. touching them with the softest of caresses, the heat of your skin radiates onto his palms. 

his fingers trailing up your skin, skipping the heat between your legs in favour of your breasts. the speed of his hips pick up and now both of his hands have you encased into his body. both of his palms grope at your tits over the thin fabric of your tank top. 

it’s as if he’s been put in a trance. no matter how guilty he feels, he can’t stop himself from defiling you. 

“i’m so sorry darling, i can’t stop,” he whimpers against you. 

“v-vernon, i’m not sure about this,” you speak up, but your ass is following his movements in tandem. pushing back against his hard member as he continues to grope you. 

“just give it to me, just this once. i’ll make it worth while darling,” vernon grunts against you. 

his hands move down once more, propping your thigh up to give himself access to where he needs you most. the other palm still tweaking your nipple, under your top this time. pointer finger and thumb rolling the sensitive nub till you’re putty in his hands. 

vernon’s attention moves back to your cunt, the thin piece of fabric from your shorts being the only thing in the way from touching you where it matters. if he knew any better, he would’ve thought you weren’t wearing panties for a reason. but the problem is, vernon isn’t thinking with his mind. his hard cock is making all his decisions for him. 

shifting the fabric aside, he is finally able to touch your bare pussy. your lips wet with arousal, slick and ready for him. he groans into your ear, peppering kisses along your neck as he rubs your clit. you moan against him, and he can practically feel you vibrating against his body. 

there’s a whine that leaves your lips as he recoils his fingers away from your hot cunt. 

shifting behind you, vernon frees his cock from his sweats. there’s a breath of relief between all the hot tension. finally. 

“you’re fucking soaking. tell me you don’t want this ‘cause i’m not stopping,” vernon groans, not even allowing you to answer back. 

he slips his dick between your slippery folds before forcing your thighs closed once again. the head of his length is bumping into your clit as vernon begins to hump into you sideways. 

“n-nonie, f-fuck, p-please,” you moan out between your pleas. 

“jesus christ, darling, tell me how good it feels,” he grunts into your ear once more. 

“your dick feels so good, a-ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, keep going please,” you beg him, synchronizing with his movements. 

vernon is drunk on lust. the sounds of your squelching pussy fill the room and the sound alone is dizzying. he picks up his pace, the coil in his abdomen starting to tighten. he wants to be inside you, he craves it. 

“keep those legs open for me baby,” vernon mumbles. 

your hand goes under your knee, propping your one thigh up. vernon shifts slightly, his pulsing cock in his palm as he lines himself up with your entrance. the tip slides against your wet pussy before his tip is shoved into your tight hole. 

you visibly tremble, and vernon thrusts up enough to bottom out inside you. the arm you're using to hold you up gives out, but vernon is quick to replace it with his own. slapping his hips into you, he holds your leg up to give him room to continue fucking you. 

“tightest pussy ever, holy fuck,” vernon practically drools. 

your walls are gummy, and so soft. the heat of your cunt engulfs the whole entirety of his cock. it motivates him to continue pistoning into you until his balls begin to squeeze. he knows he’s close but he doesn’t want it to end. as if he can go on for hours drowning into the heat of your tight pussy. 

“you fill me up so well,” you whimper, craning your neck to catch his lips. 

vernon kisses back, tongues tangling with one another as the two of you are practically eating each other faces off. you jolt with every thrust vernon gives you, the hand that was groping as your tit moves to grip your neck. fingers squeezing at the sides to cut off your airflow the slightest bit. 

the muffled moans that leave your lips are vernon’s breaking point. your pussy clenches around him the harder he squeezes your neck and it’s enough to send him over the edge. 

gasping into your mouth, vernon’s hips halt as he spurts his cum into your hole. the semen overflows and coats his cock with the mixture of your arousal and his own. 

“i’m sorry, you didn’t even cum yet,” vernon pants against your lips. 

“it’s fine. i’m not ready for this to be over yet anyways,” you breathe out, cheeks flushed. 

vernon looks into your eyes, the glint in your pupils unmissable. what the hell did you put in those chocolates?

❁ a/n: thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did hehe :3

[junovrsmp4]

three is not a crowd

OR

5 times Chris walks in on you and Matt fucking + 1 time he gets to join in on the fun

pairing: established!matt x reader, chris x reader, matt x reader x chris

summary: what it says on the tin basically

warnings: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, dick riding, oral (female & male receiving), teasing, edging, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, p in v, slight degradation/praising, slight angst, happy ending yay

word count: 6.9K

author’s note: im a whore for both of them. that is all. (also this has plot, and is mostly beta read but i havent slept in hrs so if some mistakes did slip thru my bad

1

“Hey Matt, have you seen my-” Chris begins to ask as he pushes Matt’s bedroom door open, expecting his brother to either be lazing around in bed or be at his desk, gaming.

What he doesn't expect is the sight he is instead greeted by, of you, Matt’s girlfriend of the last year and a half, astride Matt’s lap, riding his dick while he leans against his headboard, head thrown back and hands grabbing your hips, guiding you, slowly.

Chris is shocked, understandably, and he should just turn around and book it. Instead, he stands frozen, watching the way your head is nestled into the crook of Matt’s neck, your shoulders shaking. If Chris ignores the sound of his own pounding heart, he can almost hear the soft whimpers you’re letting out at each downward thrust of your hips.

At the sound of a soft, deep groan, Chris’ attention shifts to Matt, who has his eyes shut, and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. There’s something surreal about this scene, seeing Matt, who looks nothing like Chris, but also looks the most like him, fucking this beautiful girl who’s been on his mind for months now.

“Matt…,” he hears you whine loudly against his brother’s neck, and Chris has to grit his teeth, fight against the urge to shove his hands into his pants and fist his growing erection. This shouldn't turn him on so much, hell, he shouldn't even be here right now. He should have run in the opposite direction as soon as he realized what he’d walked in on, but he’s mesmerized by the way you move, your back arching as your hips move back and forth. The slow, sensual, almost hypnotic, movements of your body as you ride Matt’s dick has him clenching his fists, nails digging into his palms and it’s easy to imagine him in Matt’s place as he gets this view of what it might look like to fuck you. Your moans grow louder, and Chris thinks it might be because you’re getting close, and god, he feels so hot underneath his skin.

“Shh baby, didn't you say we needed to be quiet?” Matt whispers against the side of your head. “Can’t have Chris hearing us, can we?”

At the sound of his name, Chris’ heart hammers faster, and he looks up at Matt’s face, only to see that his brother’s gaze was already on him, watching him with a slight smirk before thrusting his hips up, presumably driving his cock deeper into you, making you moan even louder than you already were.

Breaking out of his stupor, Chris stumbles backwards before hightailing it to his room, slamming the door behind him. It takes all of five seconds for him to get his cock out of his sweatpants, furiously jerking off as he leans against his door, biting into the hem of his t-shirt that he’d pulled up over his chest, and only another five seconds before he shoots his cum all over himself.

2

Chris knows its wrong, wanting his brother's girl. This was never a problem before, because any time he found out Matt liked someone, Chris immediately lost interest. It was the brothers’ code; they never fought over girls, and besides, they always just liked different ones.

You, though…it was hard not to like you, even after he found out Matt had his eyes on you.

Chris remembers the first time he met you, how nice you’d been to him and his brothers, how easily you’d fit into their lives. He’s not going to lie and say he’d wanted you right from the start. It was a gradual thing, slowly creeping up on him before he realized what had gotten him.

You just made him feel so comfortable, and surprisingly, the two of you had a lot in common. But then again, you had a lot in common with Matt, and Nick. And yet, you were so different. You were smart, playful, and so, so kind. You were just the right amount of goofy and serious, and you just, fit well into the dynamic Chris and his brothers shared.

It shouldn't have surprised him when Matt eventually told him and Nick that he was into you and planned to ask you out. It all happened so quickly after that. You and Matt had gotten together and, now you weren't just the new friend that Chris and his brothers were always hanging out with, but his brother's (his brother who was also his best friend, really) girlfriend.

Which is why Chris knows it’s fucked up. Wanting you. And he knows it’s even more fucked up that he wishes he could have a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago when he accidentally walked in on you and Matt. The amount of times he’s jacked off to that memory alone the past few nights is insane, his mind supplying images to create his own version of events where he doesn't run away.

Especially fucked up is the fact that Matt had seen him, had looked cocky that he’d caught Chris watching them, and even that fact hadn’t deterred Chris from chasing orgasm after orgasm to the thought of fucking you, imagining how tight and wet your pussy might be, what it might taste like.

Speaking of the fucker who seemed totally unfazed by recent events, Matt sat across Chris, scrolling through his phone, while Nick sat beside him, editing their latest video. Chris was trying his hardest not to flip the fuck out, but his whole nervous system seemed like it was fried. Nick had already yelled at him twice to stop moving so much because he was apparently jostling the table too much, and Matt had just let out a bemused chuckle without lifting his eyes from his phone the entire time.

Just as Chris was about to get up and retreat to him room, the doorbell rings, before Matt gets a series of texts.

“Oh, she’s here-” Matt says, before shooting out of his chair and rushing to great you at the front door.

“Hey, hey, hey!” your cheery voice rings through the hallway, as you and Matt make your way into the kitchen, and Chris almost chokes on the sip of Pepsi he’d just taken because holy fuck-

You were wearing a short, tight black dress that hugged the lines and curves of your body just right, the square neckline barely covering your chest. His eyes slipped further down to the way the fabric of the dress cinched at your waist, and to the slit at the side of the dress that came up to mid-thigh. That and the combination of tall strappy heels you had on made your legs look…really good. So good that Chris wishes he was between those legs, licking a path up your calf to your inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses to mar the smooth, unblemished skin of your legs, before finally, finally-

Nick hoots just then, exclaiming about how hot your fit looks, pulling Chris out of his daze. He watches as you bask in the compliments being showered onto you by both Nick and Matt now, and can't help but smile at the way you try to hide your blushing face.

So, it’s completely out of left field when he sees you again later that night, sitting on the couch with your hands covering your face but this time it’s to hide the loud moans that threaten to slip from your mouth as you watch Matt kneel in front of you, his mouth pressing kisses into your inner thighs…just like Chris had imagined doing earlier.

It’s ridiculous really, how Chris had been feeling slightly normal after dinner with you and his brothers, because as awkward as he may have been feeling about you and Matt, being around you and his brothers, having good food and just laughing about random shit made him feel really fucking good. Like everything was normal and he wasn't fantasizing about fucking his brother’s girlfriend. Like he hadn't accidentally walked in on them fucking.

Of course it’s just his fucking luck that as soon he’s feeling just that slightest bit of normalcy, he’d decided to go to the kitchen and grab a Pepsi from the fridge at 3 AM, only to find his brother about to eat you out on the couch.

“Matt-” you whine, as your back arches off the couch, one of your hands moving to grab Matt’s hair, the other trying and failing to hold back your moans. “Matt, please- nnggh- stop teasing.”

Chris feels all his blood rush down south and it leaves him lightheaded. The low lighting in the room accentuates the shadows of your body and he can see the muscles in your legs flex as your thighs clench around Matt’s head, trying to get him to move his mouth closer to where you want him. You’re not in the tight black dress he’d seen you in earlier, but in a blue baby tee and black lace-trimmed hipster briefs. There’s an almost imperceptible quiver that wracks through your entire body in anticipation for what’s to come.

Matt doesn't keep you waiting for long. Chris' breathing grows even more jagged as he watches Matt’s fingers push your panties to the side before he runs his tongue flat up your pussy. Chris can't see as much as he’d like to, but his overactive imagination does the job for him, imagining how wet you must be.

Chris feels like such a sick perv for still standing there, watching with wide eyes as Matt (his literal brother) enthusiastically licks and kisses your pussy, and he almost wonders how neither of you haven't noticed him yet. Then again, you and Matt seem so lost in each other, and now there’s another ugly thought circling Chris’ brain, one that makes his chest hurt a little.

He forgoes his Pepsi for the night and quietly returns back to his room, cock half-hard, and his heart just the slightest bit heavy.

3

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Nick asks him, while his eyes are still fixed on his phone.

He and Chris were sitting on the couch (Chris had been avoiding the section that you and Matt had used during your late night rendezvous), and Chris was idly flipping through his Netflix watch list.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Chris says with a heavy sigh, slumping further into the couch.

It’s quiet, and the silence makes Chris look up at Nick, who was already looking at him with a curious frown.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you?” Nick asks, and he actually looks concerned, which throws Chris off a bit. “You’re usually bouncing off the walls and annoying the shit out of everyone in your nearest vicinity, but lately you've just been, I don't know- I’m like actually worried, did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Chris swallows around the lump that had formed in his throat and takes a minute. To do what, he doesn't know. It’s not like he’s going to prepare himself to tell Nick what he’d witnessed, twice, and how he was feeling about it. Really, how does one go about telling their triplet brother that they’d accidentally witnessed their other brother in an intimate situation with said brother’s partner, not once, but twice, and had enjoyed it, to the point of having nightly fantasies about it?

There were more complicated feelings lurking just under the surface, more than just Chris wanting to fuck you, but he did not have the mental bandwidth to unpack all that, so that was that. It’s not like he had honest to god feelings-

“See, at this point, you would’ve been yapping away-” Nick says, interrupting his train of thought, “-but instead, you’re just sitting there, looking all sad and miserable.”

“Okay, I don't look sad and miserable,” Chris says with a roll of his eyes. At least, he hopes he doesn't. “I’m just tired dude. Haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“Right.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Didn't say you were lying,” Nick says, matter-of-factually, in that signature Nick tone that lets everyone know when he isn't buying their bullshit.

“I’m fine,” Chris says slowly, waiting for Nick to stop looking at him so intensely.

“Sure,” Nick drawls out. “You’re also a shitty liar.”

“Fuck you,” Chris grumbles, chucking the TV remote at Nick, who flails to try and dodge it, letting out an indignant squawk when it bounces off his shoulder and falls to the ground.

This, of course, results in Nick throwing whatever was closest to him at Chris, which happens to be an empty water bottle, and eventually they're just chucking it back and forth, cursing at each other in between laughter.

It’s the most relaxed Chris has felt in weeks.

Too bad you had to walk in at that exact moment.

“Hey guys!” you say cheerily, plopping down on the couch, next to Chris. You’d stayed over for a couple of nights now, as you usually do, and Chris should be extremely used to your presence, except he feels his skin prickle as soon as your close to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin.

“God, how are you so chipper every morning?” Nick asks, shaking his head with a poorly hidden smile.

You twirl a strand of your hair around your finger, and bit the corner of your bottom lip. “It helps that I wake up to one of the hottest guys ever, and then get to hang out with his hot as fuck brothers,” you say with a smirk, waggling your eyebrows at Nick.

Chris wishes you hadn't just said that because now his mind wanders (more like sprints) to the memory of this morning, when he’d walked past Matt’s open bedroom. He’d heard the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your voice, whining Matt’s name over and over, which had him stopping right before Matt’s door, eyes wide, mouth agape. This couldn't be happening right? There was no way he’d walked into this situation for a third time.

Chris debates on whether he should just turn back around, go downstairs, out the front door, and bash his head against a tree, or if he should soldier on and just walk past to get to his room.

The sounds were getting to him. His cock strained against his grey sweatpants, creating a very obvious tent. His clothes suddenly felt a size too small, the air around him too thick, and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. He should leave, run far, far away from his house probably, but a sick part of him wants more than anything to see what’s got you moaning this time.

He rounds the corner and is met with a sight that almost has him falling to his knees.

It’s unfair, how incredibly gorgeous you look straddling Matt’s thighs, bouncing on his dick rhythmically, your head thrown back. You’re leaning back on your hands, supported on Matt’s knees, and Chris watches the way your body undulates as you swivel your hips, ribs flaring as your chest heaves. Every gasp you let out is a punch to Chris’ gut, leaving him feeling winded.

You’re so lost in the throes of pleasure that you don't hear when Chris groans out loud, but he knows exactly when Matt hears him, because his head rolls lazily towards him, his hands that had been grabbing your hips tightening, and there’s little to no warning before Matt’s flipping you over and thrusting into you with vigor.

“Does that feel good baby?” Chris hears Matt ask, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”

“Fuck, so good, Matt- please, please, please-” your moans turning into whimpers as Matt’s thrust pick up in pace. Chris can tell exactly when Matt hits the bundle of nerves inside you that has you seeing stars because your back arches off his bed, hands scrambling to find purchase. Your fingers clench into the pillow above your head, as you beg Matt to go harder, faster.

Chris’ eyes bounce back to Matt, who’s watching you in awe, and he’s seen that look on his face numerous times before, like Matt can't get enough of you. Chris’ breath hitches, because he wishes it was him, in Matt’s place. Him, worshiping you, making you feel good. He wishes he was the one that was ripping those sounds out of you.

He catches Matt’s eyes just then, and Chris has never wanted to punch him in the face more than he does in that moment, because it almost feels like he’s mocking Chris.

See what I have, what you so desperately want…

Chris holds up a middle finger, directed at Matt and whatever god was up there who’d clearly forsaken him. He had half the mind to just yell but the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. So with a scathing look at Matt, and a mouthed fuck you, he walks to his room, the sound of Matt’s laughter the last thing he hears before Chris angrily slams the door and sheds his clothes, pumping his cock to the memory of your voice.

It’s the hardest he’s cum all week.

4

Chris walks in on Matt pounding you against the wall leading to the garage. At this point, it had to be on purpose. The two of you had to be planning this, because how was it always Chris that ended up walking in on them, and not Nick? Knowing his brother, Nick would’ve gone around voicing his disgust at having caught you and Matt fucking, any chance he got.

So, it had to be on purpose.

Matt’s whispering dirty things in your ear, loud enough for Chris to hear every word.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby-”

“I want to ruin you, want you to feel me for days-”

“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” and that has you letting out a particularly loud whine. The next bit Matt whispers into your ear is too inaudible for Chris to comprehend but he can tell how much it affects you, because you absolutely lose it just then.

Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“Can y’all stick to fucking in Matt’s bed?”

At the sound of Chris’ voice, you look up at him, startled, and it’s electrifying, your stare. Chris sees your eyebrows furrow, your lips, plump from being bitten (by yourself, or Matt, who cares at this point), fall open. Matt’s shoulders stiffen for a second, so Chris knows he’s aware that Chris is right behind them, but the asshole just keeps fucking going. And you, you’re still staring.

“Chris-” you gasp, your nails digging into Matt’s shoulder. Chris thinks you’re going to push him away, scramble to pull yourself together.

You surprise him by pushing back down onto Matt’s cock with even more fervor, your hands moving up Matt’s neck to grab onto his hair, pulling hard.

Chris watches you cum on Matt’s cock for the first time that night, all while your eyes were locked on his.

5

Chris doesn't like being angry. He very rarely is. And usually, he gets over it really quick.

Which is why it’s shocking to everyone when he gets cold and hostile towards Matt seemingly out of nowhere, and the anger doesn't subside.

It gets in the way of their work. Filming becomes exhausting, and it leaves all three brothers feeling frustrated and annoyed at each other.

It’s in the middle of filming a new car video when it all goes to head. Nick and Matt had attempted to film a video, but Chris couldn’t hold back the jabs at Matt, interrupting him every time he spoke, insulting him for no reason whatsoever, which only made Matt retaliate just as hard.

“That’s it-” Nick yells, his hands pushing his hair out of his face in frustration. “I’ve fucking had it with you two. I’m getting the fuck out of this car and the two of you are going to stay in here and talk. Don’t even bother coming back in until you sort out whatever-” he gestures wildly between Matt and Chris, “-is going on with you two!”

And with that, Nick storms back into their house.

Chris stares out of the window with his arms crossed, seething. He can tell Matt is looking at him, can see part of his reflection on the window, but Chris isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of breaking first.

Matt, much to Chris’ annoyance, was completely calm and collected.

“Chris-” Matt begins to say, but Chris just chucks his empty Pepsi can at him without looking. He hears it clatter against something (the steering wheel, he thinks), before dropping down onto the car floor with a dull thud.

Matt sighs, and Chris wants to yell, because Chris is the one that should be huffing and sighing, he’s the one that’s tired of all this bullshit.

“Are you trying to prove something?” Chris asks, because he never could stay quiet for too long. “Is that it? What the actual fuck Matt?”

Chris had fully turned to face Matt, who at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed now. His face was tinged pinked, and he was fiddling with his rings.

Chris continues. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but if you’re just trying to get me to see she’s your girl, I fucking get it, okay? You’ve made that really fucking clear. Did I say or do something to warrant this shit, because if you think I’m out to get her, I’m not, okay? Jesus- do you know how fucking insane-”

“She wants you bro.”

Chris blinks. He opens his mouth, and then shuts it.

“I used to catch her staring at you sometimes, and there were times she’d just keep scrolling through pictures of the two of us together- you and me, I mean- and…I don’t know, she’d have this look on her face.” Matt trails off. He looks at Chris, trying to gauge his reaction so far, but truth be told, Chris was still trying to process what Matt had initially said.

“What…?”

“Look, the two of us are happy together. I love her, she loves me, but I think she…” Matt coughs out, and it’s the first time since this whole thing has started that Chris has seen Matt this awkward. “She’s into you too. She never really told me, but it got pretty obvious after a while. And eventually, I- I started bringing you up, when we- um, yeah. She wants us both.”

Chris starts laughing. Because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Alright, good prank dude- I’m still so fucking mad at you but-”

“I’m not kidding, Chris.”

Right. Because why would Matt joke about something like this?

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

And that’s how Chris finds himself back in Matt’s room. You and Matt were sitting on his bed, albeit a little far apart, meanwhile Chris had taken a seat in Matt’s gaming chair. Chris almost wants to call the two of you out on the pure torture you’d put him through the past few weeks, but one look at your face has him abandoning that train of thought.

You look so…remorseful. You’re slightly curled in on yourself, like you’re bracing for some sort of attack, and Chris’ heart melts. The last thing he wants is for you to feel upset, so he tries to lighten the mood.

“So, do you just wanna see which one of us has the better dick or-?”

He smiles as you sputter, eyes wide as you finally look up at him.

“There we go,” Chris whispers. “You’re finally looking at me.”

“Chris…I’m so sorry,” you whisper, lips trembling. “God, this is so stupid, why did we decide to tell him-”

“Hey, hey-” Chris chides. “I think I’ve been kept in the dark long enough, actually. I just wish y’all hadn’t used such a weird ass fucking way to tell me.”

“Well, to be fair, she didn’t even know you’d seen us that first couple of times,”

“Oh, god-”

“-And, we kinda assumed you’d take the fucking hint or something.”

“Yeah, I thought the hint was ‘I know you wanna fuck my girl, so I’m gonna make sure you catch us fucking every chance we get so you stay the fuck away’,” Chris says with a raised brow, staring deadpan at Matt.

“Wait, what-” you start, but you’re interrupted by Matt.

“Yeah, he’s wanted to fuck you for a while too.”

And that's how Chris finds himself with a front row view of Matt fucking you, up close and personal. Matt has you on all fours, facing Chris, while he pounds into you from behind, hard and deep. Each thrust punches a high-pitched moan out of you, and Chris watches, enraptured by the way you take it.

Chris watches to his heart's content that night, no longer worried about getting caught, no longer stressed about wanting to fuck you.

Chris watches you fall apart in Matt's hands over and over, and all he can think about is when he can finally have his turn.

+ 1

They’d had to wait for the perfect moment, a night they could be sure none of them would be interrupted.

They'd been planning for this night for a few days now, and it was finally here.

Chris and Matt stand side-by-side in front of Matt’s bed, arms crossed over their chest as they watch you squirm in his bed, their combined attention making you nervous. They’re both barely dressed, Chris in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, the front of which were already tented from his hard dick, while Matt was just in his black boxers. The low lighting of the room made Matt’s rings glisten as he rubbed at the stubble that he’d slowly allowed to grow on his face.

“How are we feeling, baby?” Matt asks you, smirking at the way you visibly gulp. “You ready for us?”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at Chris through your lashes before nodding.

That’s all the cue he needs.

Chris stalks over to you, slowly, climbing over the bed and crawling over you, his hands landing on either side of your head as he holds himself above you. You lay back, your hair fanning around your head on the pillow, your eyes wide as you wait for Chris’ next move.

“Can I kiss you?” Chris asks, wetting his lips, and he doesn’t have to wait long for his answer. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling at the strands close to his nape, bringing his lips onto yours. The kiss is heady, a wild mess of tongue and teeth, because you’d both been waiting for this, dying for it, and here it was, finally happening.

“Chris-” you gasp, open mouth sliding over the hot skin of his cheek as he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, biting harsh kisses into the skin there, before tracing his tongue across your jaw.

“Fuck, fuck- you smell so good, I need you so bad ma-” Chris blabbers, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone. He vaguely registers Matt settling onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, as Chris kisses a path down your body, laving every inch of skin he can access with nips and kisses. You arch your back as Chris circles one of your nipples with his tongue, sucking on it as he flicks the other. He alternates between kissing and nipping your nipples, all the while, you have an almost painful grip on his hair, pushing your chest harder into his face.

Matt watches your face intently, seeing the way your features scrunch up in pleasure, mouth wide open as you gasp and whine. There’s a small part of him that knows he shouldn’t be so okay with his own brother having his way with his girlfriend, but it’s almost like he gets a 4K view of what it might usually look like when Matt’s the one doing these things to you.

Chris continues his path downwards, fingers hooking into the sides of your panties and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulling them off of you. Your legs instinctively squeeze shut when the cold air hits your wet core, but Chris’s hands gently pry them open, staring at you in wonder.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” Chris groans, before licking a stripe up the seam where your thigh meets your crotch, so close to where you actually want his tongue.

“Please, please-” you whimper, pushing your hips up closer to his lips, feeling his hot breath fan over you pussy. You hear both him and Matt chuckle, before Chris has his mouth on you, licking the wetness gathered in your folds. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the obscene sounds of Chris’s mouth as he eats you out like a man starving.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s sucking on your clit, before pushing his tongue into you, his face pushed deep, you’re sure he can’t breath. The pleasure builds, heat pooling low in your stomach. You feel Matt’s fingers brush against your forehead, pushing the hair that was starting to stick to it from all the sweat.

“You feel good baby?” Matt asks, tone soft, but his eyes glint dangerously. “One of us wasn’t enough for you, was it? You’re such a dirty girl, wanting me and my brother.”

You whine, head pushing against his thigh closest to your head. Chris laughs, pulling his head back to chime in.

“Greedy little slut, that’s what she is,” he says, cheeks rosy and face glistening from the nose down, his chin absolutely soaking wet. “You gonna cum soon ma?”

You don’t even know what you respond with, just that Chris goes back to eating you out, this time, bringing his fingers to your entrance, sliding one finger, then two, into your sopping wet cunt as he licks random paths across your folds, occasionally circling your clit and sucking on it harshly, all while thrusting his fingers in and out of you, causing you to buck your hips up wildly. Your orgasm, only the first one of the night, is fast approaching, and your thighs clench around Chris’ head. The only warning he gets is a sudden yell of his name before you gush all over his face.

“Did you just- did she just squirt?” Chris asks, eyes wide as he takes in the mess that you’d made. His face and neck were now fully wet, and there was a perfectly round wet spot right underneath you. His fingers flutter over your now slightly puffy pussy, watching your folds quiver.

“Fuck, it’s too much- Chris, wait,” you whine, hands moving to grab Chris’ wrist. He doesn’t stop with his ministrations though, fingers pumping in and out of you, prodding at the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out. It was fast, intense, and Chris manages to pull a second orgasm out of you before you’d even managed to catch your breath from the first one.

Chris sits up on his knees, reaching his arms behind him and pulling his tank top off, throwing it behind him. He hooks his arms around your thighs before pulling you down the bed, closer to him, allowing Matt to slot himself behind you.

“Can you turn over for me ma?” Chris asks with a gentle pat against your hip. It takes some effort, your limbs feel loose and languid, but you manage to flip onto your stomach. Hands grab your face, tipping your head up, and you see your boyfriend looking at you with a smirk, tongue peeking out to run across his teeth.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” he asks, voice like dripping honey with a hint of something razor-sharp. “This everything you imagined?”

“Yes- oh god, Matt- I need you, please-”

“You have me baby,” he coos. “You have me and Chris. That’s what you wanted, right? ‘Cause one dick was never enough to keep you satisfied.”

“Ngghh- please, please, I-” you whimper, mouthing at Matt’s dick through his boxers, startled when you feel a sudden smack against your ass, pain blossoming across your skin.

“If she’s already this cock dumb, I wonder how she’s gonna get when we actually get our dicks in her,” Chris wonders out loud with an amused huff, palming at your ass cheeks as he rubs his clothed dick against it.

You continue begging, your pussy soaking wet and clenching around nothing in anticipation for what’s to come, hips arching off the bed while your back dips low, shoulders tucked between Matt’s spread thighs as you lick him through the only piece of fabric that is keeping you from tasting him, from having his cock fill your mouth.

Chris smooths his palm down your back, making you arch your back even further, before he spreads your cheeks, seeing the way you twitch at being put on display.

“I think she’s waited long enough, hasn’t she?” Matt asks Chris, nodding his head slightly as if to tell Chris to get on with it. Chris doesn’t waste any time pushing his sweats down his thighs, freeing his cock. You turn your head back to try and peek at it from over your shoulder, but Matt has a firm hand on your head pushing you towards his crotch while he pulls his dick out of his boxers. With one hand holding the back of your head, and the other around his dick, Matt slaps it against your cheek, amused at the way you so desperately try and get him to guide his cock into your mouth instead.

Simultaneously, Chris is behind you, rubbing the tip of his dick through your folds, gathering the wetness there. Above you, you feel Matt lean towards his dresser, before rifling through the top drawer and chucking something at Chris. There’s a sound of a bottle cap clicking open, and lube being squeezed out, before you hear the squelch of it as Chris spreads it over his dick.

Later, you’ll think they must have planned this head of time, but both Matt and Chris decide to push their dicks into you at the same time, Matt feeding you his cock, pushing past your lips, applying gentle pressure to the back of your head, while Chris spreads your folds apart and drives his dick into you, the tip catching inside you for a moment, before he thrusts his hips and pushes his dick deeper into you.

“Look at that,” Chris says, smacking the palms of both his hands onto your cheeks at the same time, before kneading at them. “She takes dick really fucking well.”

“It’s like she’s made for it, isn’t she?”

Chris fucks you like he has all the time in the world, savoring the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, fascinated by the sight of his dick disappearing in you at every thrust. You stretch around him so beautifully, and you’re so fucking tight, he wonders how he managed to fit it all in you in one go.

At the other end, Matt watches you with soft affection as you suck on his cock, tears streaming down your face from the exertion on your body and minimal air supply. At every thrust of Chris’ hips, you would get pushed closer to Matt, which would push his dick deeper into your mouth, making you almost gag on it.

You have no concept of time anymore, or where your body starts and Chris’ and Matt’s end. You feel like one big mess of limbs, moving fluidly, with the common purpose of chasing your orgasm. You hear Matt’s groans getting louder above you, and you know he’s getting close. You’re not far behind yourself, but Chris still seems like he’s nowhere close to being done.

Pulling your mouth off of Matt’s cock, you circle your hand around the base of it, before stroking your hand up and down, twisting it around the head. You swipe your thumb across the slit at the top while you tongue at the underside of the head, all while looking up at Matt through hooded eyes.

“Cum on my face, Matt, please-” you beg, mouth slightly open, a line of spit connecting your tongue to his dick. Chris' thrusts are picking up, but you keep your elbows planted firmly on the bed below to keep yourself steady for Matt. There’s a tingle building low in your spine, but you focus on Matt, the way he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His hair is a mess, and his body is flushed. The hand he has on your head grips your hair tight, and the other joins your hand in pumping his dick. It only takes a few more seconds of that before Matt lets out a loud groan of your name, spurts of thick, hot cum landing across your face, and you close your eyes as it drips down your face, some of it landing on your tongue.

Matt leans back heavily against the headboard, and before you can register anything, you’re being flipped onto your back, face still covered in Matt’s cum. Your shoulders hit Matt’s chest as Chris crowds against you on the bed, his hands now on the back of your knees, pushing your legs back against your chest, before thrusting his dick back into you.

The sudden shift has you blinking back stars, and this new angle has Chris’ dick brushing against your sweet spot on every thrust, and all you can do is sob at the immense pleasure you feel. Matt circles his arms around you, one hand playing with one of your nipples, while the other moves down your stomach and edges closer to your clit. The tingling sensation grows, and grows, your hands scrambling to find purchase on Chris’ shoulders as he thrusts particularly deep into you before you finally snap, screaming as your third orgasm is ripped from you, the force of it pushing Chris’ cock out of you as you squirt all over him, yourself, and the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably.

You’re fully gasping and sobbing now, the intensity of your orgasm wracking through your whole body. You watch through hooded, teary eyes, as Chris leans over you, furiously stroking his cock as he soaks in the view of you, hot and messy, ruined because of him, before he too eventually reaches his orgasm, cum pulsing out of him and landing high on your chest, across your nipples, one spurt even hitting your chin.

The three of you are a heaping mess of limbs after, all basking in the afterglow of a night well spent, tired, but satiated. Matt and Chris lay on either side of you, stroking whatever part of your skin they can reach, occasionally batting each other’s hands away and pulling you closer to either side, like you’re not all squished together already.

“We should do that again sometime,” you say after a long beat of silence. Matt snorts, eyes closed, but the corners of his lips are quirked up in a small smile.

“Y’all are crazy if you think I’m never fucking you again after I just got a taste,” Chris states. “Besides, I think there’s a lot of lost time I need to make up for, hm?”

After that night, Chris gets to have his turn with you, over and over. Sometimes, Matt is present, and the brothers somehow always turn things into a competition of who can make you cum the quickest, who can make you cum multiple times, who can make you absolutely incoherent by the end of the night.

Now Chris had his own reason for always being so chipper in the morning. It helps that he finally gets to fuck the hottest girl he’s seen, who just happens to also be fucking his brother.

author’s note: i put too much fucking effort into an idea that essentially started as a joke, its gonna be so funny if this flops because i literally stayed up till 4 am twice in a row to write this lmao- anyways, let me know what you think! my inbox is open and waiting for your thoughts (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @kvtie444 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @55sturn @chrisopeningabag

[haologram]

between you and me ❄️ l.c [m]

↳ part of the winter with you collab! synopsis: everything you've ever done, chan has been by your side - either egging you on or talking you off the ledge. after a rough year of studying, failed relationships and having chan be the insistent angel on your shoulder, the holidays roll around - and let's just say you're not too happy about it. genre: holiday au. bffs to exes to lovers (what a doozy); angst, fluff, smut. pairing: lee chan x fem!reader word count: 40.4k (DON'T LOOK AT ME!) rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, references to smoking weed, alcohol, food, use of sex as a general coping mechanism, jealousy. general exes who are still friends type of dynamics. mentions of misogynistic views, mentions of having kids, mentions of seasonal depression. chan is a bit of an asshole but redeems himself (and is overall just a good person but yk...) reader has a strained relationship with her mother. reader deflects a lot, chan cannot stop running his mouth. mingyu and sooyoung make several appearances. mutual pining. smut warnings: (let's take a deep breath for this one!) multiple scenes because they're fucking freaks (3 total!) alluded virginity loss (not depicted, backstory). teasing, frottage, heavy petting, bitiing, chan cums in his pants once. oral (m&f. rec.), face sitting, ab riding, subtle body worship (m&f. rec.), fingering (f.rec), pussy slapping (i know i know). nipple play (m&f. rec.), hair pulling, spitting, cumplay (just...okay?), switch!chan x switch!reader, chan likes it when she's mean, whiny!chan (can i get a hell yeah!?). slight strength kink, breeding kink, d*ddy kink (save me), love (?) kink (?). dirty talk (HELP. ME.), pet names (baby, princess, babe, etc.,) unprotected sex (don't do this), missionary (wouldn't be a haologram fic without missionary and body worship but i digress.) i think that's it! what to listen to: meddle about - chase atlantic ; habit - seventeen ; to die for - sam smith ; wait - dino ; heart - dawn ; scared to live - the weeknd ; fantasy - bazzi ; don't leave me - intro ; kiss it better - rihanna ; all mine - plaza ; the party and the after party - the weeknd ; always - daniel caesar ; fade into you - mazzy star. author's note: i fear i cannot shut the fuck up! yet another behemoth for caratblr, loverboy!chan save me please. special thanks to my dearest @diamonddaze01 for betaing this big ass fic an encouraging me to not give it up when i was truly losing my mind. thank you to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be in yet another collab of theirs. as always, dedicated to the most devoted dinonara i know, @bitchlessdino. snowflake dividers are by @/strangergraphics here on tumblr! enjoy the wild ride and happy holidays, everyone!

DECEMBER 22, 4:32PM.

Your car horn cannot take another beating, and you're not sure Chan's ears can take another annoyed, muttered string of expletives from your mouth – confirmed the moment he yells at you to pull over. You argue back that you're in the middle of the expressway and everyone around you is going over sixty miles an hour, but he doesn't care. You mumble profanities as you merge several lanes, pulling over only for him to tell you to stay inside and he'll get out. 

"You've been driving me up the fucking wall since we left the apartment. What stick do you have up your ass that you're upset about everything!?" He practically slammed your car door as he got into the driver's seat, swatting your bare thigh as you climbed over the console to the passenger side. You scoff, batting his hand away from your legs as you plop into the seat. 

"Nothing, Channie. I'm fine." You grit, yanking the seatbelt a little too hard for him to think you're fine. He sighs, resting his forehead against the steering wheel before he turns to look at you. 

"Y/N, I've known you since we were in diapers. I know when something is bothering you, you're not weaseling your way out of this." What was wrong with you? You're sitting in your old beater car with your life-long best friend, wearing his old cheer shorts and his t-shirt and probably his socks as well. You're on your way home during an unusually warm winter, hence the shorts, and you're nursing a cup of his infamous hot cocoa. The one with actual mini marshmallows, none of that Swiss Miss bullshit.

You'd had a great cheer practice before the break ended, with your coach telling you and Chan to please rest during the holidays – it wasn't exactly either of your fortes. She knew the two of you went home for the break together, and you'd likely be practicing stunts in your parents' basement – but you knew exactly why you were upset and it had nothing to do with cheer and everything to do with the fact that your best friend has had the best years of his entire life while you're being a sulky baby.

You cross your arms, the drawstrings of your hoodie yanked by the seat belt as Chan turns in his seat. "Everyone has bad days, Y/N." "You don't." You mutter, crossing your legs at the knee before you feel Chan's fingers pinch your cheek. "Yes, I do. I don't know where you got this idea that I'm perfect. I'm flattered, but I'm just as human and clumsy as you are." "Yeah, well…shut up." You huff, feeling Chan press his lips to your temple. "Don't be so sour. We're on vacation, let's enjoy it. It's our last one before we graduate, isn't that exciting?" It's not. It makes existential dread weigh on your shoulders, and it's so stupid. It's stupid dread, rooted in misogyny and lies and comparison that is the thief of joy. It makes you hate him, knowing that Chan doesn't have to worry about any of this but you do simply because you have some stupid biological clock that works AGAINST you.

You know once university is over, your parents will start to ask about marriage and kids. You know that they'll bring up Chan, over and over until you tell them for the third year in a row that you and Chan tried it and it just didn't work. 

Freshman year of college between you and Chan has to have been one of the strangest years yet. He had rushed a frat and you helped him move from his dorm into the house – and the brothers made eyes at you until Chan lied and said you were his girlfriend. None of them bought it, so much so that Chan had confessed about it and you were so wide eyed he was scared your eyes would fall out. Once the initial shock wore off, you shrugged and agreed you'd be his pretend girlfriend – that it would definitely get you out of some bullshit.

Simultaneously, it got you into some bullshit.

It was a few weeks before winter break, and you were both drunk at your first frat party. The two of you had been locked away in his room getting high earlier that day, and neither of you were in the condition to interact with anyone else or even go downstairs for more drinks – so you just laid in his bed and giggled about nonsense. He was propped up on his elbow, telling you about how the older brothers had made him pants the president of Alpha Phi and you were just staring off into space while you nodded along.

Until you looked at Chan a little too closely, your head on his pillow as he pushed your hair out of your eyes. He smiled down at you, his fingers tracing the shell of your ear as he continued talking when you sat up and anxiously pressed your fingers to your pulse point, having felt your heart rate spike at just the slope of his nose. Everything felt way too hot and intimate for two best friends.

He'd asked if you were okay, if you needed water – assuming you were too crossfaded to prevent the panic attack that seemed to creep on. You shook your head, screwing your eyes shut as you flopped back down and tucking yourself into his chest. He'd assumed you wanted to be held, so he threw your leg over his waist and ran his fingers through your hair, murmuring subtle praises as you tried to regulate your breathing – but the smell of the weed and your best friend's cologne was just too much and you wound up pushing him away.

"Channie, get away from me!" You'd whined, shoving him back and attempting to pull your sweater over your head. You failed, and he laughed, yanking it over your head the rest of the way. "Are you hot? Should I open the window?"

"You should kiss me, you fucking idiot. How can you tell your entire fraternity I'm your girlfriend and you won't even kiss me?" You'd poked your finger into his chest, your t-shirt rumpled from the sheer force of your sweater coming off. He blinked at you, lip jutted out in a pout. "Well, how am I supposed to know you want me to kiss you when you literally just told me to get away from you?"

"I'm your fake girlfriend! I'm getting zero play from anyone else because they think we're a thing!" 

"Aren't you a virgin?" He asked, sitting up as you smoothed your shirt over your belly, lying back down on your side, propped up by your elbow. "Aren't you? You're my best friend, it's not like we'd hump and dump each other. If we're bad, we can just learn."

Chan had been truly appalled at your words. The two of you had never crossed into this territory, despite knowing everything about each other. You'd been each other's first kiss back in high school, but that was fully a dare from your other friends and neither of you spoke about it again. He dated around with other girls and you had one boyfriend that was shitty, but it was always just the two of you at the end of the day.

"You want me to…" "Only if you want to."

"Are you joking?"

You hadn't been, and you proved that by tugging Chan down by his collar and pressing your lips to his. He immediately reciprocated, pushing you onto your back and shoving your thighs apart to settle between them. He wasn't a bad kisser at all – a little too skilled for your shy touches, but you quickly caught on to his movements as you felt him grow hard. 

"We don't have to do this at all. You know that, right?"

"Chan, I want you to."

He'd blushed slightly as you flipped the two of you over, letting him sit up with you in his lap and quickly pulled your top off. His hands were warm and nervous, but you kissed him again and it felt like everything fell into place. 

The first round was slow and gentle – you were on top, and he kissed all over your chest and face as the two of you got into it. By the third time, you were covered in nips from his teeth and his saliva as he folded you in every position imaginable. He was a young guy with a Costco box of condoms and the girl of his dreams in his bed – he had to commit this to memory. The two of you went at it like starved, depraved lovers – it was nearing seven in the morning by the time he reached into his nightstand and the box of condoms was empty. You were both sober by then…and the reality of your decisions began to sink in as you let him sink into you, raw.

"Y/N…" He whimpered into your neck, entirely too sensitive for this to be happening but you only mewled in response. "Feels so good, Channie, please…"

You only spurred him on, clawing at his back and whining his name as your walls overstimulated him. Every single part of his body felt like it was on fire under your touch, and he relished in the way your teeth sunk into his shoulders and neck as he brought you over the edge repeatedly. 

"Shit, b-baby…I'm gonna.." 

You only wrapped your legs around him, pulling him into you deeper as you kissed the words off his tongue. He tried to kiss you back, he really did – but failed miserably as he came inside you, hips involuntarily working the two of you through your shared orgasm. You kissed him messily as he came down, feeling his hands on your cheeks as he slowed you down, before pulling away fully.

"We need to clean up." He muttered, resting his forehead against yours, your eyes closed as you nodded tiredly. "I don't think I can get up."

You hadn't been able to – Chan wound up carrying you into his bathroom and holding you between himself and the wall in order to help you shower. You were so tired your eyes remained closed for the majority of it all – something Chan was grateful for because he just couldn't stop roaming his eyes all over you.

Thankfully, it'd been a Saturday the day before – so there was no reason for you to leave his bedroom. He gave you the cheer shorts he usually wore, and tugged an old sweatshirt over your head while also stripping his bed of the sheets. He threw your clothes in with it in the wash – and returned to see you asleep. He had so many questions, just watching as you snuggled into his pillow as he sank onto his bed, reaching for his phone to order delivery – only for you to tug him back.

"We can eat later."

"When can we talk?"

You peeled your eyes open for that one, looking at him tiredly.

"You're my boyfriend, Chan. Couples have sex."

"But–"

"I love you. Now, hold me."

And he did. He laid down, and you draped yourself over his chest. His hand went under your sweatshirt, rubbing small circles into your back as the two of you fell asleep. But his mind never strayed from how confidently you said those three little words.

That was one of many nights between you and Chan. You were referring to each other as significant others, subconsciously going on dates, and fucking like there was no tomorrow. He'd get you flowers, tell you how pretty you looked. You'd fluster him with comments of how handsome he was, and you'd spend hours slow-dancing together in his bedroom if you weren't just basking in each other's presence.

Neither of you spoke about feelings, but rough whispers of I love you slipped out often during sex, softer ones when he dropped you off at your dorm (that you were hardly at because you spent all your time with him), teasing ones when he just felt like it. You found it harder to say after the first time – kissing him in response, feeling your cheeks grow hot as he looked at you with said love in his eyes. Sometimes you'd mumble it, only loud enough for him to hear.

You loved him too. You didn't know when it became romantic, you'd never been in love before. But, perhaps if you'd looked deeper – you would understand that feeling like you can hardly breathe from pure excitement when he's around is a tell-tale sign of being absolutely enamored.

Perhaps, you said I love you first – because you were scared that if you let it fester inside you, it'd become too overwhelming. 

It did, anyway.

The two of you went home that holiday break and tried everything possible not to tell your parents anything. Chan's family owned the house next door and only used it when he was home – but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep separately after weeks of constant skinship. You tried for the first three days – only for Chan to sneak into your bedroom and stuff your panties in your mouth to keep you quiet.

Everything had been going smoothly until your parents found out – spotting a hickey on your collarbone that hadn't been there when you arrived. Your mother was the first to question you – her interrogation light over dinner with Chan and his parents.

"So…find any cute boys?" She asked as she poured you a glass of water, one you immediately reached for as you choked on your bread. Chan's eyes widened as they fell on you, spotting the bruised mark on your skin under your t-shirt from across the table. "Mom, what gives? That's so embarrassing." "I sort of asked Chan the same question." Mrs. Lee shrugged, before her hand reached to tug on her son's sweater. "Then I saw this and got my answer."

Two hickies on his chest, and Chan's cheeks burned beet red as he wiggled away from his mother. "Can we not do this?" He asked through gritted teeth, and you only covered your face with your hands as your father snorted.

"We always figured the two of you would end up together. It's just the way it goes sometimes. Friends before lovers is a good way to start a beautiful relationship." He nods, patting your back gently to ease your discomfort. You gave Chan a glare through our fingers, only for him to gawk at you as if you were blaming him for the entire thing.

"We're glad it's you, Y/N, really. I was always worried my Chan would get his heart broken by someone ruthless." Mrs. Lee pinches her son's cheek, making him groan as he moves away. "This is so embarrassing, stop it!"

"We've only been together for a few weeks, so can we drop it?" You mumbled, stabbing your fork into a meatball as your mother glanced your way. "...Sure, honey."

Your parents didn't bring it up again for the rest of your vacation, but things felt a lot more breathable after. You and Chan went out on your own several times – dinner, stargazing, a few hikes. You kissed eagerly behind closed doors, but kept your touching to a minimum in front of siblings and parents. He held your hand as the New Year's ball dropped, and kissed you moments after when his parents looked away. You felt your stomach fill with butterflies at the tender touches, but started feeling antsy as days continued and you couldn't have sex.

He offered to take you on a drive after your parents went to bed, and you wound up fucking in the backseat of his car that night to the sound of Meddle About by Chase Atlantic. It was by far the most desperate you'd ever seen him, and the night you accidentally discovered a small kink of his – one the two of you swore not to speak of again after. Or rather, he asked you not to – but what kind of girlfriend and best friend are you if you don't tease him about his little ticks? You both returned to campus a few days later, and Chan managed to get you naked in his bed before you even unpacked your things. You'd decided to forego buying condoms on the way home to avoid the temptation, but just looking at you was enough to get Chan going and he had no idea how to make you understand that.

Until the spring semester started and the two of you got slammed with essay after essay, lab after lab, pop quiz after pop quiz. It was February by the time the two of you got to spend more than an hour alone – and you had nothing to talk about. You just kissed quietly, feeling each other up for hours until your underwear was soaked through with your arousal and Chan was painfully hard.

"We should break up." You murmured against his lips, and he nodded. "We should. After this, though." "After." You agreed, not knowing that Chan's chest had tightened at your words. Not knowing that he hoped just feeling you around him would mend that pain he felt, and not knowing he hoped he could get you to stay through the night – and break up in the morning. Not the night of his birthday, not the first night he gets to have you again after missing you for ages. Not the day that seems to have completely slipped your mind.

And, it worked. Yet another large box of assorted condoms and half a bottle of unnecessary lube later, you were tucked in his bed again. In his cheer shorts, in his shirt, and with dozens of love bites littered around your body. You kissed him as he slid into bed next to you, your arm draped over his chest as you began to talk.

"I'm sorry if it's sudden. You're my best friend and I don't want to lose you, but we just…don't have time." You had muttered, and Chan fought back tears as he nodded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "I don't want to lose you, either. But if we break up…we have to stay friends, Y/N. We have to." He meant it. Even if it meant he had to break his own heart by spending time with you and not being able to kiss you, caress you, love you, he meant it. You were all he knew – his first kiss, his first crush, his first fake-girlfriend. His first real girlfriend, despite having dated around. His first time having sex, making love, and everything in between. The first woman he'd learned inside and out, and the only woman he wanted to know that way.

If time was the issue, he'd wait. 

But you didn't know that.

Shortly after your relationship ended, Chan found himself restless. His hand wasn't enough anymore, but neither was anything else he tried. He lost interest in porn easily and even wound up sneaking peeks at your Instagram for some sort of relief. He resorted to asking one of his frat brothers what he should do – and Wonwoo calmly looked up at him and said, "You fuck someone else."

Chan hadn't been sure what to do with that information. He wound up going to cheer practice early that day, only to find you doing stunts with Minghao, a fellow spotter and one of his frat brothers – his hands tightly gripping your waist as he threw you up in the air. He catches you swiftly, and Chan only feels his cheeks heat in embarrassment as you eagerly compliment Minghao on his skills, your hands gingerly wrapped around his biceps – your nails still the soft pink he chose not even a month before.

It was too much touching for Chan's taste, and he wound up turning right back around and skipping practice, sneaking out of the gym before either of you could see him. When Minghao arrived at the frat after practice and saw Chan in the kitchen, he asked him where he'd been – that you'd asked for him and wanted him to help Minghao with your stunts. Chan simply clicked his tongue and shrugged, "Was busy. She can figure it out." Minghao had been a bit taken aback by his comment, but said nothing as Chan practically pushed past him. There was a party a few days after that, with both you and a bunch of random girls in attendance – mostly girls from the fraternity's sister sorority. Chan had one up in his bedroom within the hour, and another two hours later.

You went home after seeing him take the first one upstairs.

After that happened, and Minghao spoke to you about Chan's behavior about the entire stunt situation, you felt a shift in your friendship. Chan became a serial monogamist for a long time – none of his flings lasted longer than two weeks, and he kept them at arms' length. He never mixed business and pleasure – the cheer girls were strictly off limits, much to their dismay. 

But you were the person he drunk texted. Saying he misses you and wants to hang out – and you'd hang out. You'd go pick him up and take him back to your dorm (later, your apartment) and watch movies, get drunk and fall asleep on your couch. He never made a move on you, and you never made a move on him because you were just friends.

So you shoved it all down. You watched him bag girl after girl, you watched him win trophy after trophy. You watched him make the Dean's list every semester, you watched him build unbreakable friendships, you watched everything he touched turn to gold and it made frustration fester inside you.

You struggled a lot after the breakup – from branching out and meeting new guys to your grades tanking just a bit – and it made you feel pathetic. You slept with one other guy, a guy from a different cheer team. You met him at a competition, and it was in the next city over, so you and your team had to get a hotel. You and Chan naturally roomed together…only for Chan to hit it off with a girl from another team, and it led to a heated argument between you and him to see who got the room for the night. He wound up storming out and staying with her, only to come back in the early morning to a locked door and the sound of you and the guy going at it.

Neither of you spoke about it. You didn't speak on the ride home, either – and you ignored him for a week until he texted you and asked if you wanted to get drinks. You agreed, and he apologized for his behavior. You only nursed your cosmopolitan, and accepted his apology with the condition that he buy you an appetizer.

An order of mozzarella sticks and a thing of marinara later, you forgave him. The two of you danced around conversations for a bit, before he offered you a lift home. You gracefully accepted, and he dropped you off at your apartment with a hug goodbye. A hug that lasted longer than any had since the breakup, and you felt…slightly put back together.

Things seemingly settled after that. 

Fast forward to senior year – you and Chan are still inseparable. You're co-captains of your cheer team, he's the vice president of his fraternity and you find yourself there every weekend to help with events if the two of you aren't at a cheer competition. He holds your hair when you throw up and he helps you glue on your false lashes for competition nights. He drives you to places when you're too tired but still want to go out, he tutors you for Organic Chemistry and gives you gummy bears as rewards for getting questions right.

Chan is your best friend, and he makes sure everyone knows – including the girls he gets in his bed every few nights.

Your eyes still lingered on him at parties – the way he'd grind against girls, the way he'd never done with you because you weren't a stranger to him. He'd seduce them with his confidence and kiss them, but never in the way he kissed you. You could see it, how shallow it was to him, before he'd begin moving them towards his bedroom.

But, even now – you miss him. Lonely nights in your bedroom turned into lonely nights in your shared apartment with him, having been convinced to move into a two-bedroom with him as a reward for making it to senior year of university without any major fuck-ups. However, you felt like a major fuck-up – because now this meant he'd bring girls to the shared home.

He hasn't, yet. But, he will. You're sure of it.

It makes your stomach turn to think about it.

"See how much calmer things are when you're not the one driving?" Chan's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you scowl. "Shut up." He only rolls his eyes, but you feel your thighs clench at the way he looks when he drives. You'd gotten used to this sight in many lights – Chan driving you home from an arcade night, Chan driving you home from getting drinks. Chan driving you home from the movies, Chan driving you home from cheer practice.

Chan driving you home after that night he fucked you senseless three years ago in his backseat, whispering how good you felt around him and how he couldn't imagine a life without you in it.

You sigh inwardly at the thought of it, opting to recline your seat and cover your face with your arms. You cross your legs before feeling Chan's hand squeeze your knee, making you jolt as you swat at him. "Stop touching me, I'm sensitive!"

"Your knee is sensitive?" He teases, fingers pinching it again as you groan. "You're pissing me off, Chan."

He only snickers, his fingers brushing up your thigh before you shove it away. "Quit." "Alright, alright. At least put on some music, I need to hear something other than your whining." He holds up the aux cable, and you take it and plug it into your phone. You press shuffle on your Spotify, ignoring the way your cheeks heat the moment Meddle About by Chase Atlantic starts. 

He only turns the volume up.

"You guys are home!" Mrs. Lee greets you by throwing her arms over you, and you nearly stiffen before Chan gives you a pointed look. You hug her back warmly, thanking her for being so excited to see the two of you. "How is school? Still doing well, I hope!" "Doing great, Mrs. Lee. Chan's helping me quite a bit these days." You nod in the direction of her son, who is unloading everything as you shove a stick of gum into your mouth. His arms look great in that long sleeve…he should wear it more often…

"...And your mom made that brown sugar ham you love! Isn't that exciting!?" Mrs. Lee's voice brings you back as you nod quickly, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets as the wind picks up a bit. "Yes! I'm starving, you have no idea. We survived on jerky." Your pout makes Mrs. Lee coo, her knuckles pinching your cheek as she beckons you to follow her into your house. Chan gives you a glare as he grabs your duffel, and you only blow a kiss at him as you follow his mother inside. "Y/N!" Your little sister can be heard screaming from the top of the stairs, and you smile as you turn – seeing her practically fly down them, her arm in a pink cast as she wraps it around you. "Hey, babycakes! What happened to your arm?" "Rosie took a tumble down the stairs last week, I keep telling her to slow down." Your mother appears out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel as she presses a kiss to your cheek. "Welcome home, darling."

Your sister begins to ramble about everything going on at school with her friends – that Katie has a crush on Hyunjin but Hyunjin likes Minseo and Minseo thinks Katie is too mean to join their coloring circle. All too much for you to process in one go, and definitely too much for her to get out in one breath because she stops the moment you hear Chan grunt, kicking the door open slightly to make his way inside.

"Chan!" She abandons you, and Chan lights up as she runs into him, spinning her around. "Hey, Rosie! It's been so long, oh! What happened to your arm?" 

He kneels down to her height, and it makes your heart warm. Your parents definitely did not plan to have another child so late in life, but Rosie was the easiest kid ever. You remember when they brought her home – you were a junior in high school and you were ecstatic. You'd been staying with the Lees, and they all came over to meet her.

Chan was the only one who pulled you aside and asked how you were doing. You admitted you were a bit overwhelmed, and he wound up offering to stay the night and just talk. His parents allowed it and the two of you ordered takeout and spent the entire night just talking.

Rosie kept your parents young and on their toes – enough that they made friends with other couples in their neighborhood. Rosie was popular, she had lots of friends at school and around the neighborhood – loads of people came to her birthday parties and your home was the designated playdate house. 

You zone back in to see Rosie offering Chan a marker, and you gasp. "No way you're letting him sign before me! I'm your sister!" "But Channie's my best friend." She retorts as you walk over, squatting next to Chan, who sticks his tongue out at you. "That's what you get for not helping me unload the car." "Oh, but you're so big and strong! You're supposed to do it!" You argue back childishly, only for your little sister to stomp her foot. "Sign it! I have things to do!" Chan bites back his laughter as he signs it, before handing the marker over to you. "Do tell, Rosie. What things do you have to do?" "Well, I have a tea party in ten minutes and I do not like to be late. The tea will get cold." She sniffs, and Chan pats her shoulder. "Have fun, pipsqueak." She runs off, obviously over the excitement of her sister and her 'best friend's' arrival. Chan gives you a glance, "Feeling better after having to do nothing?" You shrug, smiling at him. "I appreciate you, you know that." "You have a funny way of showing it." He says pointedly, before tilting his head towards his duffel. "Mom said I have to stay with you this time, my cousins are in town for a few days and they're in my room. Is that cool?" "Promise you'll wear socks to bed?" You hold your pinky out and he sighs, shaking his head as he links your pinky with his. "Fine, but that means you have to wear pants." You smirk, winking at him. "It's my bed, Chan." You stand up straight, shaking your legs out before walking away from him. He shakes his head again, tonguing his cheek as he follows suit. You wander into the kitchen, and your mother greets Chan with a hug. They start catching up about little things as you open the fridge, grabbing a wine cooler for yourself and a beer for Chan, shoving it into his chest and leaving. You hear your mother jokingly ask if Chan wanted the air mattress, and he only laughs before denying it, saying he should help you unpack and get comfortable. She agrees.

"Need help?" He moves to leave the beer on the table, your wine cooler tucked under your arm as you hoist your duffel over your shoulder. 

"Nope." You smile, making your way to your bedroom. Yours is the only one downstairs, and it's in the furthest corner in the house as well. You practically begged your parents for it, insisting it was the warmest room in the house when the winters came about – and once Rosie came along, they let you move downstairs, saying the baby needed to be near them. You'd eagerly agreed and moved out happily.

Chan followed behind you quietly, his own bag over his shoulder as he took a sip of the beer you gave him. He wouldn't finish it, and the two of you would likely swap drinks before either of you had too much of it. As he reached your room, he saw you backflip onto your bed, a groan from your lips as you sank into the memory foam mattress.

"Fuck, this is gonna do wonders for my back." You moaned, eyes closed as you kicked your shoes off. He snorted, putting his beer next to your wine cooler on your dresser before doing the same. "Jesus, when did they get this for you? Your mattress has always sucked." You know he's not referring to the time three years ago that he snuck in, but your cheeks heat anyway as you look at him. His eyes widen, and he clears his throat. "I didn't mean–" "They got it for me last summer." You interrupt, and he nods quickly. "Sorry." "For?" You try to act nonchalant, but you clear your throat one too many times for him to think it's fine. So…he makes it worse. "We never talk about those days, you know. It's not like…it's weird. Right?" Not weird at all. I don't miss the way you felt inside me, nope. Not at all.

"Do you…want to?" You don't mean to sound so bitter, but Chan clicks his tongue. "I mean…it wasn't the worst thing ever. I…liked you a lot." You grimace at the awkwardness, but try and shrug. "I mean…I hope so. We did say we loved each other. A lot, might I add." "I said it a lot, you deflected." He corrects you, and you turn your head to look at him. "Are you doubting that I loved you?" "You wanted to break up on my birthday, Y/N, not even a week before Valentine's Day. Forgive me for assuming." He rolls his eyes, and you sit up. "No, I didn't. Your birthday is on the 11th." "Yeah. You came over on the 11th after we didn't see each other for weeks. We were kissing and you said that we should break up." He props himself up on his elbow, and your brow furrows as you think. 

The two of you managed to sneak a glance or two in during cheer practices, but the days before blurred together because you pulled several all-nighters studying for your anatomy midterm. You remember checking the time before you left your dorm to go spend the night with him, it'd been five-thirty.

On February 11th.

"Shit, I'm sorry." You breathe, and he shakes his head. "What good is it now?" He shrugs, picking at a loose thread in your comforter.

"Chan, I'm sorry." Your hand finds his shoulder, and he gives you a soft smile. "It's fine. You finished the day with me anyway, that was all I'd wanted that year."

I'm sorry for breaking up with you, I wish I hadn't done that.

"I did love you. I still do, you're literally my best friend." You say gently, and Chan's eyes meet yours. They hold something you can't quite grasp, "It's different. Of course I love you, you're my best friend." You feel like your stomach is about to fall out of your ass when Chan shrugs again, his shoulders constricted by the tightness of his top. Your eyes follow the curve of his waist, his sweatpants tied around his hips loosely. "It's just different between you and me now, you know? It's not the same friendship it was before." He rolls onto his back, arms behind his head as he keeps talking. "Sometimes, I think it shouldn't have happened at all. I mean, let's be honest. Between you and me…things have always just been simple. We overcomplicated it by doing whatever it is that we thought would enhance our relationship." You can feel your chest aching with every word, but you can't seem to stop listening. Your eyes burn with tears as you let him keep talking. We?

"I guess it was something of a dumpster fire. Everyone always assumed we'd be something, maybe it's good we got it out of our systems." He nods, before looking at you. His eyes widened, sitting up quickly as you covered your face with your hand. "Y/N–" "You can be really, really coarse sometimes." You mumble, sliding off your bed and grabbing your wine cooler off the dresser. "I'm going to go find my dad, make yourself at home." You tighten your sweater around yourself, flinging the door open and slipping into the bathroom. You refuse to let the tears fall, taking a deep breath before drinking half of your can. You press the cool metal to your cheeks before stepping out, walking out towards the garage to see your father tuning one of his many guitars.

"Oh, you're home! I've missed you!" He puts the bass guitar down, before he frowns. "What's wrong, honey? Are you okay?" "M'fine. Hey." You shake your head, giving him a one-armed hug. He's not convinced, holding you closely. "You can talk to me, you know that." "It's stupid. What are you doing here?" You set your drink down on his workbench, only to see your father's stern look staring down at you. You sigh, running your fingers over the strings of the guitar. "Chan and I broke up." Confusion crosses his features as you take a seat on one of his cushioned bar stools. "I thought you broke up ages ago, sweetie." "We did. That's the problem." You mumble, feeling a tear slip out of your eye and you brush it away quickly, but your father sighs carefully, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You bury your face into his ribcage, feeling sobs rack your body as he hums quietly. Your father had always been the person you went to when it came to Chan, because your mom was convinced you'd be the brute of the relationship – and insisted you were too harsh with your words at times.

"What'd he say this time?" He asks softly, and you wipe at your nose with your sweater sleeve, trying to form it in a way that doesn't expose your entire relationship. "He just mentioned that he felt like our friendship was different now that we'd involved feelings in the past, and that he thinks it's better that we 'got it out of our systems.' He said that he wishes it'd never happened sometimes, who says that?" Your father nods, a frown on his lips as he sighs. "I'm sorry he said those things, honey. I assume he didn't know you still felt some type of way about him?" "I don't." You lie through gritted teeth, but your father knows you far better than that. He pats your shoulder, glancing down at you. "Now, you and I both know that's not true. You called me crying about him a few weeks ago, didn't you?"

You had. You don't exactly remember what you'd said, but you remember it being three in the morning and your mother taking the phone and telling you to get a grip. It only made you cry harder, enough that your father stayed up for the next two hours soothing you over the phone. Chan walked into your bedroom a few hours later and asked if you were okay. You kicked him out of your room out of embarrassment. "Why can't you be one of those dads that kicks the guy's ass for me?" You pout, swatting his arm as he lets out a full bellied laugh. "Because I have two wonderful daughters and a loving wife I need to provide for. If I beat up every guy that crosses you, I'd be sent away. I'd miss graduations, birthdays, anniversaries. Weddings, at some point. I'd hate to miss those beautiful moments." You roll your eyes, and your father smiles lightly. "I also happen to know how to distinguish when my daughter is doing these things to herself. Chan might be saying things you don't exactly want to hear, but that's exactly what you're not doing. You're not talking to him about anything. He can't know how you feel if you're not telling him." You huff, but you know he's right. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. There's nothing to tell him, and if he wants to act like we're better off being as distant as we are then I'm no one to beg for his presence." "That pride of yours will get you in trouble. Knock it off." He says pointedly, before sitting on the stool next to you. "Now, listen to this. I think my tune is still off."

Dinner was always a nice, intimate affair between your family and Chan's. You gather around the large mahogany table your father made years ago, and talk about everything and anything under the Sun. They ask you and Chan about school, cheer, and dating. Rosie talks about her friends and her toys, your mother talks about her restaurant and your father about his music store. The Lees tell you about their dance company, and give you updates on Chan's younger brother, who would be spending the holidays stuck at work. 

Dating spins the table once more, and your father gives you a look that says he'll change the topic if you say the word. Mrs. Lee starts by teasing her son, who flushes beet red and insists he's not looking for anything right now. 

"I still never found out why you and Y/N broke up." Mr. Lee chimes in, and you feel your cheeks grow hot as you grip your fork. Rosie looks between the two of you, her nose crinkled. "Ew! You were boyfriend and girlfriend?!" "No." You answer quickly, and your voice is far too nonchalant for Chan's taste, it seems. He gives you a confused look, and you shrug. "We just didn't work out. It wasn't good for us." "Easy for you to say." He mutters, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. You grimace, and Mr. Lee shifts uncomfortably before you feel the words tumble from your mouth. "Yeah, well when you tell your girlfriend she doesn't love you, it's kind of hard to want to be together." Mrs. Lee's eyes are wide, spluttering over her glass of water as Chan groans, pulling his cap over his eyes. "That's not what I said, Y/N, you're twisting my words." "Am I?" You scoff, letting your fork clatter on the table as you push your chair back. "I mean, seriously, who fucking cares anymore? It's been three years." "Language, Y/N." Your mother's voice is stern, gesturing to your little sister who looks increasingly bewildered. You sigh, closing your eyes as you scoot your chair back into the table. "We just broke up. It's fine. I'm sorry for swearing, Rosie. Bad girl Y/N." You apologize to your sister, who nods slowly.

Chan mumbles an apology to Rosie as well, and the tension is thick as Mr. Lee clears his throat. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"Not your fault, Mr. Lee. Sore subject." You shake your head, patting the left side of your chest, as if saying it pains you. He gives you a sorry smile, before Mrs. Lee speaks up. "Will you be fine to room together? I don't want you guys to fight this entire trip, we haven't seen you in so long." "It's fine." You and Chan say in unison, eyes meeting in a glare over the table. "I know how to keep my mouth shut, it's no problem." You add, and Chan scoffs, mumbling something like ridiculous under his breath.

"Alright, that's enough. We haven't seen you guys in four months. We're going to sit here and enjoy this dinner, damnit!" Your mother speaks loudly next to you, making you jolt. Chan apologizes as he sits up in his chair, your little sister wide eyed as your mother shoves a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth. You elbow her lightly, and she coughs.

"Sorry, Rosie." Your father makes the rest of the dinner go smoothly. He mentions his store, and tells a story about a guy who came in wanting to learn a few songs for his wife who was in the hospital. Everyone listens intently, and dinner is wrapped up within the hour. You offer to pick up, your mother's tired eyes thankful as she carefully hauls your now sleeping sister up the stairs to bed.

You tongue your cheek as you bid goodnight to the Lees, offering to wrap the cake your mom made in case they want to have a sweet midnight treat. They accept it and you watch them as they make the walk down the lawn to their house. You shut and lock the door, seeing Chan lingering at the bottom of the stairs speaking to your father. They both look apologetic, but Chan's cheeks are tinged pink as he rubs his neck, a habit he developed when feeling sheepish or admitting something.

You frown to yourself, turning back to the table. You gather all the plates, stacking them as you walk around the table. You'd pack the leftovers first, but you had to move everything out of the way properly.

"I'll wash." You hear Chan say, before he takes the plates from your hold. You don't reply, simply moving to gather all the cups and silverware. You dump any remaining drinks down the sink, ignoring the way he scrapes the plates over the garbage can. You move around in silence, quickly wrapping leftovers and moving them into containers, before sliding everything into the fridge and standing next to him as he washes the cups, moving onto the silverware quickly.

"I didn't think it would bother you." He begins, and your hand tightens around the glass in your hand, before you wipe it down with the rag in your other hand. He scrubs the silverware harshly as you mutter, "You assumed." "Yeah, well, I thought we were best friends. I thought I could assume shit and be right." He huffs, and you carefully take the knives from him, swiping the rag over the blades with ease. "You are right." "What?" He looks up from the soup bowl in his hand, and you shrug. "You are right. I guess I just didn't want to admit it earlier, but things are different between us now. It's whatever." You're lying. You're absolutely lying and Chan's face tells you he knows.

"You've always been a bad liar, Y/N. Don't start trying now." He scoffs, and you don't say anything as you dry the forks and spoons, opening the drawer to put them away. He washes the rest of the bowls in silence, but sucks his teeth the moment he grabs a plate.

"Why?" He asks reluctantly, and you raise a brow at him. "Why, what?" "Why are things different?"

You hum in response, drying a bowl as you think.

"For one, you've been inside me." You start, making him cough. "Be serious." "I am serious! Did you not fuck me three ways to Sunday every time I slept over? Did I imagine that?" You snort, and you watch his cheeks flush as he tongues his left one. "Whatever. What else?" "You stopped hanging out with me as much. I would call or text and you'd leave me on delivered for hours, and then get back to me once I was already ready for bed. Or you'd drunk dial me and come over. You used to properly spend time with me, but after that whole dumpster fire, you kind of just hung out with me when you wanted to." You don't intend to sound so hurt as you say this, but Chan's hands slow under the running water. He nods, a soft look in his eyes as he glances at you. "I'm sorry." "What good is it now?" You repeat his words to him, and he looks up at you. "Don't be like that." "You also blatantly made moves on other girls in front of me. If the relationship meant nothing to you, you could've said that. It would've made moving on a lot easier." You say pointedly, before forcing out a humorless laugh. "God, your body count must be in the double digits now. Is it?" He doesn't reply, but you nudge him with your elbow. "Is it?" "Yes."

You shake your head, tonguing your cheek as you open the cabinet and slide the bowls in carefully.

"What's yours?" "Two." You respond shortly, his eyes wide as he looks up at you again. "Two?"

"Problem?" Your brow is quirked as you reach for the first plate, and he shakes his head. "No. I just…" "Assumed it would be higher? Yeah, you're doing a lot of that lately." You roll your eyes, and he scowls. "Can you stop? You had some fault there too, you have to admit that." "I don't see how I'm to blame at all for you just assuming I didn't love you. I spent every waking moment by your side if I wasn't studying or showering, and even then it was like we were glued at the hip. I hardly had my own space, you literally snuck into my room after three days because you couldn't sleep without sticking your dick in me." "Why do you keep talking like the sex was only good for me? Like you didn't enjoy yourself? Because I remember something very fucking different." He scrubs the plate in his hand with vigor, and you let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Maybe I don't remember it that way. Maybe it was only good because I loved you. The other guy was very different." Chan tenses at your words, his hands still under the running water. "Was he?" "Yeah." You nod, but the truth is, you didn't like it nearly as much. He made you cum, sure, but it was missing that…flair. That eagerness Chan always had, the passion he had, the stamina to keep up with you. It was missing the love you had for Chan, and you remember struggling not to ask this random hookup to hold your hand, or kiss you when you came, or to tell you he loved you.

All things Chan did without realizing.

"Mmh." He doesn't speak again, handing you the dishes almost angrily before muttering something about a shower and leaving the kitchen. You wipe down the counter silently, your eyes welling with tears when you hear Chan rustle about. You assume he's moving into the bathroom when you feel a hand on the back of your head, carefully tangling in your hair as you feel his lips brush the shell of your ear.

"You do a really good job of pissing me off, but I won't ever deny that you're the best I've ever fucking had. No one feels like you and no one has made me feel like you have. No one." He pushes you back lightly, storming back out of the kitchen with his shirt in his hand. You get a glimpse of his bare back, the muscles tense as he walks away. You feel your heart racing in your chest, your fingers coming to check your pulse as you take a deep breath.

Some vacation this is going to be.

DECEMBER 23, 7:22AM.

You thank God for the fact that everyone in your house is a deep sleeper, and can't hear how loud your heart is beating in your ears at this present moment.

Chan had taken the edge of the bed closest to the door, something he always did when the two of you shared a mattress. Or rather, the edge of the fucking mattress — he was practically hanging off. You curled into the corner closest to the wall, and stayed there the majority of the night. Chan left your TV on, knowing the white noise of whatever show he put on would lull you to sleep.

However, throughout the night, Chan migrated closer and closer to you – eventually opting to pull you into his chest. Your leg was draped over his hip and your face was nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his soft body wash and the baby powder deodorant he stole from you.

"Chan, get off me." You groaned, pushing the heel of your palm into his shoulder. He scrunched his nose, shoving your hand away before pulling you back in. "Just fucking hold me, will you?" He rested his chin on your head, arms wrapped around you like a boa constrictor attempting to asphyxiate its prey. "Chan, I can't breathe." You're muffled against his ample chest, and he only slightly loosens his arms. You wiggle about, attempting to get comfortable at the very least, when his hand moves to grip your hip.

"Stop." His voice is hoarse as he pushes your hips away from him, which ends with you on your back and his arm over your waist. You sigh, reaching for your phone to check the time.

Seven-thirty-four. Your mother is likely either about to get up or making breakfast right now.

"I'm gonna get up." You mumble, wiping at your eyes when Chan is muttering under his breath. You lean closer to hear him, but he stops. "Speak up, I can't hear what you're saying." "Nothing, go. Eat something." He turns his head away from you, buried into the pit of his arm and the pillow. You raise a brow, turning back on your side. "Why can't you just tell me? Have you always been this difficult?" "Y/N, I'm hard as a rock right now. You can get out or you can watch me take care of it, I frankly don't give a flying fuck." He spits, and you feel your cheeks heat as you clear your throat. You move his arm from your waist, carefully peeling the blanket back to climb off the bed. He lets you slide over him, before his hand shoots out to grab your wrist, yanking you back onto the mattress. You yelp, your back hitting the comforter as he quickly moves to hover over you, his lips crashing onto yours. Your hands fist his shirt, your eyes fluttering shut as he carefully licks into your mouth. 

You let him cup your face gently, his thumb softly caressing your cheek in tandem with the movement of his lips. He pulls away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips quickly before your eyes open and he's looking down at you intently.

Neither of you speak, but you both know what he wants. His eyes dart all over your face, and you feel your cheeks heat as your hand shakily moves to palm him through his sweats. His jaw clenches at the friction, his hips involuntarily rolling into your hand when he shudders.

"Only if you want to." He murmurs, and you nod slowly. "I want to. Take your pants off." He pushes off you, sitting on the edge of the bed and you take the opportunity to kneel on your rug. It's nicely padded, but he scoffs as he grabs one of the pillows and makes you move onto it. He undoes the drawstring, but your impatient hands move to his hips and you pull the sweatpants down to his knees carefully. He hisses at the feeling against his cock, but says nothing as your hand wraps around it.

Your heart is racing as you stroke him a few times, his lip tucked between his teeth as he tries not to buck into your hand. "Don't tease me, please." He breathes, and you feel your lips twitch as you lean forward, spitting on the leaking head and spreading it carefully. You lick a stripe up the underside, following the thick vein with the tip of your tongue, working your hand at the base.

He groans, leaning back on his hands as you flatten your tongue against the head. You swirl it slowly, remembering how much he liked it the few times he let you go down on him. Chan, ever the giver.

"Fuck, baby, please." His hand moves to your head, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you take him into your mouth carefully, hollowing your cheeks as you let his tip hit the back of your throat. He sighs as you start to bob your head up and down, your tongue never stopping its laving as your throat constricts around his tip slightly. You push yourself to take him deeper, your nose slightly brushing his pelvis as he lets out a guttural groan.

“Can you shut up? My parents will hear you.” You pull off entirely, a frown on your spit-slick lips as he nods quickly, mumbling a breathy sorry. He sucks in a sharp breath as you sink back down on him, his hips involuntarily jerking into your mouth, making you gag slightly. "Shit, sorry–" "Just keep doing that." Your voice is slightly raspy, his eyes wide as he swipes your hair away from your face. "A-Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you–" "Do you want to finish or not? I can get up right now." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on the pillow, his hand still in your hair as he stands, tonguing his cheek. "Open your mouth." You do as you're told, instinctively sticking your tongue out as he holds his shaft, a soft moan from his throat before he leans slightly. The hand in your hair moves to your jaw, before a wad of spit lands on your tongue. You feel your cheeks warm, eyes fluttering shut when you feel his tip drag across your bottom lip. His fingers gather your hair again, his voice gentle as it hits your ears. "Let me know if I'm too rough." That's all he says before you feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, hearing him let out a quiet hiss as his tip hits the back of your throat. He's slow with his movements, methodical thrusts into your mouth as your hands rest on his toned thighs, digging your nails into the sides. "Eyes open, baby. Wanna see you." His voice is hoarse as it hits your ears, your eyes slightly watery as you peer up at him through thick lashes. His lips are bitten raw as he looks into your eyes – it proves to be too much for him as you whimper around his cock in your throat. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this." You ignore the way your stomach flutters as he rolls his hips messily, thumb coming to wipe the corners of your mouth from the bubbles of spit. Your hands move up his thighs, shoving his shirt out of the way to watch the way his chiseled torso flexes as he fucks into your mouth. He whines at your touch, his grip on your hair tightening as you notice a faint tattoo on his hip. You file it to the back of your mind as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his release spilling onto your tongue with a whimper.

You move back slightly, his fingers carding through your hair as he softly massages your scalp. "You okay?" His breath hitches in his throat as he feels your tongue on his tip. He pushes you away slightly, before his hands wrap around your wrists, pulling you off your knees. "You're fucking insatiable, you know that?" You shrug, "If you say so." He stares into your eyes for a moment, his own glazed over with a mix of lust and something you can't decipher. He leans forward a bit, brushing his lips to yours. You let out a shaky breath as he nips at them, watching your lower lip bruise slightly. "Pretty. I've always loved your lips." You roll your eyes, going to move away when he presses his lips to yours chastely. Once, twice, three times before his lips travel to your cheeks. He peppers kisses all over your face, making your nose scrunch as he pecks the tip of it.

"I'm sorry about everything yesterday." He murmurs, his hands moving to hold your cheeks. Your hands rest on either side of his hips, and you sigh. "It's whatever. Pull your pants up, what if someone comes in here?" "It's not whatever, Y/N. I hurt your feelings, and it was shitty of me to say those things. Especially when I didn't mean any of it, I was just…" "Angry?" You suggest, and he sighs as he moves to tug his sweatpants over his thighs. He ties the drawstring as he sits back down, your knees now settled on the pillow beneath you once more. "I don't know if I was angry. It's stupid, really. I shouldn't have spoken about it that way, is all. And I'm sorry." "You made me feel like I was just the first notch on your bedpost. You could've told me that was all I was to you, but it wasn't necessary. Not with the way you just started sleeping with other girls so soon after our break-up." The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and he gapes at you as you shift uncomfortably, opting to stand up. You pick the pillow up, fluffing it before tossing it onto the bed and drifting to your mirror. Your lips were a swollen mess, and you wiped at them with your hand before hearing a soft knock at the door.

You glance at Chan, who has a stoic look on his face before he stands up and answers the door. It's Rosie.

"Hey, babycakes." You call over Chan's shoulder, and he moves to the side as she waves. "Mommy told me to tell you it's time for breakfast!" "We'll be right there, pipsqueak. Ten minutes, tops." Chan smiles, and she nods excitedly, before bolting back down the hallway, screaming your estimated time of arrival. You smile to yourself as you yank open your dresser drawer, fishing out a t-shirt.

Chan's hands are on your waist as you root around, and you peer over your shoulder to see a soft glaze of tears over his eyes. Your brows raise in concern, and you twist to face him, your hands cradling his cheeks. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" "Do you ever consider how you made me feel? Or how you make me feel when you say things like that?" His voice is thick, and you feel your eyes begin to sting as your lips part. You shake your head slowly, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"Did you think about what I said last night?" He asks softly, and you avoid his eyes as you sigh, nodding your head. "You know that's not just about sex, right? That's about everything, ever. You're the only person who has ever made me feel that way." "What way? Like you need to fill a void? I get it, I'm shitty for breaking up with you on your birthday." You mutter, and he tilts your chin up to look at him. His eyes are still glossed over but hold a stern look.

"In a way that I feel like I can't fucking breathe without you. Nothing means anything to me since we broke up, but just a crumb of your attention makes me feel fucking insane. I don't think you understand how much you and your moods and the way you talk affects me. Everything about you drives me up the wall with want and need and I need you to understand that."

Your voice is lost on you, your throat constricting as he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumbing at the small hoops he's never seen you without. "I look for you in every girl I've been with since. Every single one, and none of them compare. None of them are as stubborn as you are, none of them give me shit when I do something stupid. If you want to talk about sex, fine. I've never finished, not once. None of them feel the way you do, none of them kiss the way you do. Not a single one of them can I close my eyes and have their body burned in my mind, not the way I have yours. Not a single one has filled the spot you left, and I'd rather die an honest death and tell you that no one ever will if it's not you." Your lip is quivering as you look away from him, and he rests his forehead on your shoulder as your arms drop to your sides. "Please, please tell me you feel the same." You can't. You want to, you feel the ache to fill his cup until it overflows deep, deep in your stomach. But you're scared this is just for the moment, the fact that the two of you are away from any available hook-ups within a ten-mile radius. You're afraid that this is something temporary, just like the first time – but this time, with the intent of ending.

You hadn't wanted to call it quits then. You hadn't but it was the right thing to do – no matter who chastises you for it. You'd known, in your heart, that Chan was the person you are destined to love forever – whether you knew it then, drunk and high that first night in his bedroom, or in the backseat of his car, or even that time under the bleachers at a national cheer competition…it doesn't matter. Whether you knew it'd be in this pathetic way, doesn't matter. You know now.

He's looking for a good time, you tell yourself. And you may be a good time, a great time, even – but you won't do that to yourself. "It took me two years to move on." You don't recognize your own voice, thick with tears and a bitter taste in your mouth. "Two years, and you fucked Chaeyoung in your bed because you saw Minghao and I doing stunts together and got jealous for no reason. You fucked Chaeyoung and Seonmi, within an hour of each other. You didn't even wait a month."

He doesn't speak, nodding his head in silence against your shoulder as he pulls you impossibly closer. His chest is flush to yours, and you can feel his tears soak into your collar. 

"All because you didn't want your fraternity brothers to flirt with me. All of this, years of pining after you, yearning for your touch, missing you in my fucking bed, because you're a jealous asshole who can't stand the idea of not being the only guy in my life. All of this, Chan, because you wanted to say that I didn't love you when I don't think I've ever been able to think of a future with a man that isn't you."

His hands grip your sides tightly, your own pushing against his shoulders as you let a choked sob fall from your lips. His eyes are just as red as yours, his cheeks just as tear-stained as yours. Heart, just as broken and empty of you as yours is of him.

"It's not fair to me. Not when I'm still hurt, not when I can still taste you in the back of my throat. Not when you ignored me for girls and drinks, not when I called my dad in the middle of the night because you weren't home and I'm worried that you're not answering my calls. Not when my mom thinks I'm the brute here, when it's you." He nods, eyes closed as he squeezes you in his arms. He rests his forehead on yours, "They're waiting for us. Wash up quickly." Your stomach sinks, but you feel your heart pick up a bit as he places a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. "I love you." You don't say it back.

Breakfast had been awkward, to say the least. You went to the kitchen after an hour, the two of you lying through your teeth to your parents about your red-rimmed eyes. Your father gave you a hard look, and you were set to clean the table after breakfast when Mrs. Lee offered to take you Christmas shopping.

"We can make a day of it, I miss my girl." She smiled sadly, and you'd only felt your cheeks warm as Rosie insisted she come along. Mrs. Lee agreed, and even roped Chan into coming, as well – his hesitance making your eyes gloss over with unshed tears.

He'd sat on your bed as you got ready, watching you tug on a nice sweater and a form fitting pair of winter pants. It'd begun snowing lightly during breakfast, and your father had suggested you layer up – though he was sure the snow wouldn't stick. You and Chan hardly spoke as he watched you get dressed, his eyes trailing your naked body shamelessly. He helped you put on your winter coat, and carefully helped you put on your watch – a gift from his mother one year. He picked your rings, mumbling about which ones fit the aesthetic of your sweater the best. The casual intimacy of it all was eating away at you, only for Chan to run his hand through your hair and kiss your cheek.

A silent vow that he'd earn you back, you both understood.

Mrs. Lee was a chatterbox – she made Chan sit in the back with Rosie, playing with the Barbies she insisted on bringing as she updated you on everything going on at the dance company. You and Chan had been enrolled as kids, Chan becoming a far better dancer than you were – but the two of you excelled the same amount when it came to gymnastics. Chan begrudgingly abandoned dance to cheer with you in high school, but he quickly became enamored with the sport.

Rosie stomped her feet as you asked her to leave the Barbies in the car, only agreeing when Chan said it'd be a shame if she lost them. You rolled your eyes as she asked him to pick her up, but he did so anyway, her pink cast scratchy against his neck. "Rosie, you know Channie's my best friend, right?" You teased her, earning a huff from the pouty six-year-old. She stuck her tongue out at you, earning a surprised laugh from Chan as he saw her in the reflection of a car window. The wind was biting, and you found yourself hovering behind Chan. As the four of you entered the mall, Rosie asked to be put down – only for Mrs. Lee to pull her close, holding her small hand within her ringed fingers as they wandered into a toy store.

"Cold?" He asked, snaking his arm around your waist. You shrugged, but your teeth chattered as you tried to speak. The two of you laughed in unison, Chan carefully swiping your hair out of your eyes as the two of you walked forward. You try not to let your face react as he interlaces your fingers.

"Did you get your mom's gift yet? I know your dad's is in the car, and Rosie's are all in my duffel." "Shit, I knew I was forgetting one. I got your parents tickets to a cruise, I need to print those, too." You tap your temple, and Chan gasps. "I'm their son, you can't get them a better gift than me!" "What did you get them? A picture of you in a frame from the thrift like you did in grade nine?" You roll your eyes, and he huffs, squeezing your hand. "No, I got my mom a few pieces of jewelry and my dad just wants a lawnmower." He rolls his eyes, and you snicker. "What'd you get me?" "My presence is your present." "Pretty shitty present, Chan." "Hey!" The two of you continue to bicker as you make your way to a few different stores – you swipe your card far too many times for you to count. Chan carries all your bags as you skip ahead of him, holding a cup of hot chocolate for your little sister as you find Mrs. Lee filed away with her in the back of a jewelry store. "What've we got here?" You squat down to Rosie's level, and she pulls her short hair back to show you her ears. "Mrs. Lee got me earrings like yours!" A pair of thin gold hoops sit in your sister's ears, and you glance up at Mrs. Lee with a pout on your lips. "You didn't have to do that, Mrs. Lee. I would've bought them for her." "Nonsense, it's the holiday season. I have her studs in my purse, don't let me forget to give them to your mother when we get back." She gives you a stern look, before glancing behind you, a smile on her lips. "Y/N's got you busy, huh?" Chan feigns annoyance as he huffs, "You could say that. What's going on here?" You turn to tell him when you see Rosie peeking into one of the bags before you cover her eyes. "No peeking! You'll see it on Christmas, babycakes." "Just one! Please, please, please!" She holds your hand in her sticky one, likely from any snack Mrs. Lee would've bought her at one of the stands. You grimace, before sighing. "Okay, one. When we get home, okay?"

"But I'm sleepy." She pouts, and you ruffle her hair. "Then you take a little nap in the car. You can use my coat as a blanket, okay?"

The six-year-old reluctantly agrees, before reaching for the cup in your hand. Chan and Mrs. Lee prowl the store together, their eyes lingering amongst all the glittering jewelry and whispers between them as you get offered a chair by a saleswoman. You tug Rosie onto your lap and ask her about what she did – she sleepily tells you Mrs. Lee took her on the carousel ride at the children's court, then bought her a piece of honey cake at a pastry shop. She yawns as she talks about a few pairs of shoes Mrs. Lee bought her – high top Twinkle Toes and a pair of winter boots to wear as the weather changes. She doesn't manage to finish the hot chocolate as she rests her head on your shoulder, and you finish it off before managing to throw the cup into a trash bin a few feet away.

Chan and Mrs. Lee are speaking to a saleswoman at the register, her eyes a little too heart-shaped as Chan fends his mother off to swipe his card. You hold Rosie close, your eyes watching the exchange as Mrs. Lee huffs, a triumphant smile on Chan's lips as they approach you again.

"Any more places you wanna hit before we go? My fingers are about to fall off." He shows the lines from the bags across his fingers, and you shrug. "You offered, now deal with it." He scoffs, but doesn't get a chance to retort as Mrs. Lee interrupts him.

"We should get going, actually. They did say it was going to storm pretty bad tonight." Mrs. Lee winces as the saleswoman walks up to Chan with a receipt, your eyes narrowing as he quickly tucks it in his pocket. Mrs. Lee speaks up again, "Kind of an odd thing to say, though, because it's been unusually warm." "First snow always sneaks up on us on years like this." You sigh, shaking your head as the four of you walk out of the store. You pick Rosie up, holding her on your hip as Chan shifts all the bags to one hand to push your hair out of your eyes.

"You guys are so cute!" An older woman compliments you both, just as Mrs. Lee appears next to you, her eyes slightly wide as Chan tucks your hair behind your ear. His cheeks tinge pink as his mother gapes lightly, but she says nothing as you walk towards the exit. You pull Rosie's hood over her head as you reach the doors, and tug her scarf up to her eyes before bracing the cold air. "Fuck, it's cold." You hear Chan mutter as Mrs. Lee shudders, her gloved fingers fumbling with the key fob as the car comes into view. You shiver as she pops the trunk, watching Chan carefully put everything in it as Mrs. Lee slides into the driver's seat, turning the heat on blast as she turns the engine on. You carefully slide Rosie into her carseat, trying not to wake her as you click her seatbelt in place. You slide your coat off, shivering immediately in the biting wind as you cover her lap with it before shutting the door quickly. 

Chan's eyes are wide as he sees you crossing your arms over your chest, your scarf the only layer protecting your neck as he nearly rips his coat off and wraps it around you. "Are you insane? Do you want to get sick?" He doesn't let you reply as he ushers you to the passenger side, nearly shoving you into the seat and all but slamming the door. He closes the trunk before getting into the backseat, his nose red from the cold. You glance at him through the rearview, watching him blow into his hands as he meets your eyes. He looks at you pointedly as Mrs. Lee pulls out of the parking spot.

You look away.

"So." Because your mother is at her restaurant editing the holiday menus and Chan has taken the rest of the day to spend time with his cousins, you've asked Mrs. Lee to help you pick out your Christmas Eve dinner dress. She is sitting at your desk as you model options for her, the current cranberry red dress a bit too short for her taste. You frown as you change in the closet, "So, what? What's up?" "When are you and Channie going to figure this out? I mean, it's been years." She sighs, and you hear her rustle through one of the shopping bags. You step out to see her holding the dress you bought for New Years' dinner, the black glitter mocking you as you sigh. "I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Lee." You smooth your hands over a forest green sweater dress with gold accents, before turning to her. "This one?" "You know what I mean, honey. There is still something between the two of you, don't think I didn't see the way he practically tore his coat off earlier." She shakes her head at you, and you scoff. "That doesn't mean anything, he's just a gentleman." "Yeah? Then what was last night's outburst about?"

You freeze, your hands fisting the dress as you go to pull it over your head. She peers at you through the full-body mirror, her eyes so reminiscent of Chan's. You purse your lips, looking away and at your socked feet as you slowly make your way over to her. You perch on the edge of your bed, "I don't want you to think less of me." Her hands hold your cheeks gently as you feel a tear roll down your face, her eyes wide and worried as she shakes her head. "Honey, I could never. You're such a smart and wonderful young woman, and you've always treated my Chan so well. You've been his biggest hypewoman, I could never think anything but the best of you." "I was the one who broke up with him, on his birthday." You say shakily, "I didn't remember it was his birthday, but that's on me. I just…I thought I was doing the right thing. I broke things off because I wanted us to focus on school. We were so busy after we went back from break that we didn't see each other unless we were at practice, and it was eating away at me." You wipe your eyes, Mrs. Lee's hands now folded in her lap as she listens. "No one can be upset with you for doing what you felt was best, honey." "Chan was." You scoff out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you sniffle. "He still is, I guess. We got home and we sat down in here for a bit, and we talked. He said that maybe it was better this way, that things had always been 'easy' between him and I, that involving feelings wasn't the best move. That our relationship was a dumpster fire, and that he's glad we got it out of our systems because he wishes it never happened sometimes. That he…felt like I didn't love him." You trail off, feeling a surge of tears roll down your face as you wipe at your nose with your sweater sleeve. You glance at her, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tilts her head. "And he moved on. I didn't. So…I don't know if it's fixable. I'm sorry to disappoint you, if you thought Chan and I would be something of a forever as anything more than just friends." You give her a sad smile, and she quietly sighs.

"He called me a few days after his birthday that year, you know." She nods, looking at her nails before she flicks her hair out of her face. Your eyes widen as you sit up slightly, "He did?" "He was a mess." She laughed softly, running her hands down her jeans. "He cried and cried, I remember asking him if he wanted me to go up to the campus. I was so worried about him, until he told me that you two weren't seeing each other anymore. Just a boy needing his mother because the girl of his dreams broke his heart." Her voice is slightly teasing, but your heart sinks. "What?" "Oh yeah, honey. Channie's not very good at hiding his feelings, we knew he liked you since you were kids. We figured it would take him a bit to realize it, but once you two came home for the holidays that year, it was like he was a different person. He walked in with so much confidence, not that he needed anymore." She snorts, and you laugh softly. "He just seemed happier, a lot brighter. Like he does when he dances." You feel your chest ache as you look away, her hands finding yours. "I know that in there, somewhere…there is a love waiting to be let loose again. I know maybe then, it was the right thing to do. I know you wouldn't have done it if you didn't think you had to, I've known your heart since you were a little girl. I know it's kind and strong and you're a good person, Y/N. Don't think about it too much, I know you've both felt that pain but trust me when I say, there is no life without pain. All I can tell you is to live without regrets." She squeezes your hands, and you sigh shakily, your eyes still letting tears flow. "What if we break up again?" "Then you can always say you tried." She shrugs, "You're Y/N, he's Chan. If I know anything, it's that you're both hard headed and you never give up on anything. Why make your relationship the first thing?" She gives you a warm smile as you nod, and she glances at the sweater you have on. "Maybe not this one, either." She wrinkles her nose, and you scoff in mock offense. "I've tried everything on in my closet! Why don't you pick something for me, then?" She grins as she gets up, skipping to your closet and rustling about. You check your phone, seeing a few missed messages from Chan.

Msg From: Chan 💗 [5:33PM] dude these guys SUCK [5:34PM] come hang out with me :( [5:34PM] i'm sick of this shit, soonyoung keeps making spitballs?? are we fucking thirteen??

You snort, watching as Mrs. Lee drapes a few options over her arm. Msg To: Chan 💗 [5:55PM] can't, hanging out with ur mom [5:56PM] do you want to take a drive later? i think the temp went back up a bit and it's not as windy

Msg From: Chan 💗 [5:57PM] oh so you hate me??? you get her tickets to a cruise AND you're hanging out with her? do you just wanna paint me as a bad son??? [5:57PM] i'd say yes but i don't think i'll be back until right before dinner :( but tomorrow after dinner at your mom's restaurant? maybe we can catch a late movie or something.

You don't get a chance to reply as Mrs. Lee whispers a small aha! She rustles around a bit more before coming out with only one dress, one you hadn't worn since you bought it because you never had an occasion. It was a long, champagne colored dress with a sarong skirt and long sleeves. The skirt was carefully ruched at the hip, before flaring out in an open slit. It had a sweetheart neckline littered with rhinestones, and you winced as you ran your fingers down the fabric.

"It's not too showy for dinner? We're just going to the restaurant." You sigh, thumbing the stitching. Mrs. Lee scoffed, "Your mother has worn far more extravagant things than this, do you remember when she wore a ball gown to New Year's last year?" You snort, thinking back to the way you hide your face as you walked into the Lee home last year. Chan made a comment under his breath about how insane the baby blue dress was, but everyone was more or less a fan. 

You also remember the way his hand slid a little too low on your back that year as rang in the new year with a hug.

Looking up at Mrs. Lee, she gives you a mischievous smile. "Go on, try it on! And we can do some hair and makeup stuff before we have to have dinner!"

Needless to say, your mother did a double take when she arrived home and saw that you were fully dolled up at the hands of Mrs. Lee. Her jaw dropped as she took in the wine red lipstick you stole from her bedroom and glittery eyeshadow, before a huge smile overtook her face and she rushed into your room to talk. It holed you away in the bedroom for another hour and a half before you graciously kicked both women out for just thirty minutes alone before dinner.

You stood in front of your vanity, dress hung back up your closet and a sigh filled the room as you reached for a makeup wipe. You peered at yourself, Mrs. Lee's words filled your mind as you ran your hands through your hair. Pursing your lips, you tie your hair back before hearing a knock at the door, and Chan opens it slightly.

"Hey. I'm home." He's not looking at you as he tugs his coat off, a sigh from his lips as you quirked an eyebrow at him. "You don't sound very happy." "I'm just tired, I don't remember what it was like to shoot the shit with those guys." He scoffs, throwing his jacket over the back of your desk chair before sitting in it. His eyes widen as he finally looks at you, "You look pretty." "Thanks. Mothers." You shrug, before reaching for the makeup wipe you abandoned in order to tie your hair back. "Wait, wait, let me see." He reaches for your hand, pulling you towards him. You roll your eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed, your other hand on your knee as he looks at your face.

"Why haven't you ever worn this lipstick before? It looks really nice." His thumb pulls at your lower lip, before you swat his hand away. "Stop that, someone could walk in." "Then lock the door? I'm just looking at you." He rolls his eyes as he stretches, "Did you figure out what you're wearing tomorrow?" "Barely. I'm still overthinking it, but the Moms said to go for it so…we're going for it." You shrug, and he raises a brow. "Do you want to show me? Maybe a third opinion could help settle it." "Nope." You grin, before standing up to move back in front of the vanity. His hold on your hand pulls you back, his other hand snaking around your waist as he pulls you into his lap. You huff as he kisses your shoulder, "Chan. Seriously."

"I missed you." He pouts, leaning his cheek on your shoulder as you roll your eyes. "Yeah, well…" You trail off, your cheeks heating as he smiles up at you. He's about to say something when you hear a knock at the door, making you jump in his hold. You rip yourself away from him, nearly stumbling as you rip the door open. It's Rosie.

"Ooh, you look pretty! Can I try?" She hops into your room, puckering her lips as she looks into your vanity. You snort, "Hello to you, too. Do you come with a message or just demands?" "Dinner in ten minutes. Can I try now?" She jumps in front of the mirror, and you roll your eyes as you motion for Chan to hand you your makeup bag off the edge of the desk. He does, and you root around in it for the lipstick, pulling out a lip brush as well. You squat in front of her, "This is Mom's lipstick, okay? We can only use a little bit." She nods, letting you carefully trace the brush around her lips. You turn her around in the mirror when you're done, lifting her up slightly. "You like?" "I like!" She smacks her lips loudly, and you smile inwardly as you set her down. "Can I wear this tomorrow, too?" "If you ask Mom and she says yes, we can talk about it." You shrug, and she nods quickly, before grinning at herself in the mirror one last time. "Okay, bye! Thank you!" "Bye, babycakes." You laugh, closing the door as she runs out. You give Chan a glance, rolling your eyes as you reach for the makeup wipe. "Gotta love that kid." "Don't take it off." He pouts, standing up to slide next to you in the mirror. You scoff, "Why? You're just gonna stare at me over dinner and everyone's gonna think something that isn't." He huffs, resting his chin on your shoulder as you carefully wipe at your eyes. You peel one open, seeing him pouting in the mirror. You struggle not to roll your eyes as you turn your face to look at him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Stop pouting, it's not a good look on you." His eyes are wide as you continue to wipe the makeup off, his hand coming to ghost over your jaw as he makes you face him. "I missed you." He repeats, before nuzzling his nose against yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as his lips brush yours, before he whispers against them.

"I love you."

And just like this morning, you let him. You let him slot your lips together in a tentative kiss, your heart beating wildly in your chest as he turns you around, pressing your back into the vanity. His hands move to hold your hips gently, his fingertips barely breaching the hem of your shirt as he pulls away. He doesn't move back much, brushing his lips against yours as he squeezes his fingers against you softly.

"Will you at least let me try to win you back?" You feel your skin grow hot as you look away, and your heart flutters in your chest as he cradles your face softly in his warm hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead, "Please?" You want to tell him there is nothing to win back, you'd always be there. If time was the issue, you'd wait – no problem. But there is that part of you that's hurt that wants him to fight for you. The part of you that wants him to beg for you back, the part of you that wants him to hold you tight and cry with you about how stupid he's been when you've been equally as stupid. Maybe in a different way, but you're both idiots in your mind.

You look into his eyes through thick lashes, the heat of his gaze making you want to melt into the ground. Chan, despite the history between you two and his bad habits, had always been both the angel and the devil on your shoulders. He could lead you down any path and you'd blindly follow, but you knew you were the same for him. The truth of it all was that your trust in Chan has never wavered, even when the pain of his actions settled into your bones.

"Okay." "Promise?" His eyes are wide as he holds his pinky out, and you sigh, closing your eyes as you nod and link your fingers. "Promise." You both kiss your thumbs and touch them to each other, before you wipe the stamped lipstick off his cheek. "Don't tell your parents anything or I'll get Soonyoung and Mingyu to put snow down your pants tomorrow." He rolls his eyes, "You still haven't let me introduce you to them, so good luck. I wasn't going to tell them in the first place, anyway, because they'd make me go to my room after Dumb and Dumber go back into town tomorrow afternoon. I still can't believe they didn't ask for the holidays off."

You roll your eyes, moving the makeup wipe to your lips as he traces circles into the skin of your hip under your shirt. "Double pay, probably. My mom is shelling out double pay at the restaurant these next few weeks." He hums in response, "Did my mom say anything I should know about?" You snort, "Wouldn't you like to know." "I would, thank you. Tell me." "I have to wash my face, Chan." You give him a pointed look as you push past him, moving to your bathroom as he sighs, trailing after you. "Okay, you can wash your face and speak." "Chan, get out of my bathroom. They're probably waiting for you at the dinner table." "If they're waiting for me, they're waiting for you." He reminds you, leaning against the doorframe. You huff, reaching for your face wash as you turn the faucet on. "Go. I'll be out in a minute." He sighs, before pushing off the doorframe and leaving without a word. You feel your chest heavy with worry as you lather your face wash into your skin, but you force yourself to push all your rushing thoughts to the back of your mind. If Chan is making the moves to make things right, you have to at least give him his flowers for that. He wouldn't pull a fast one on you, he's not that kind of guy.

Right?

DECEMBER 24, 6:05AM.

Dinner between the two families had been rather entertaining. Your mother was enamored with the earrings Mrs. Lee got for Rosie, and the parents discussed carpooling groups for the Christmas Eve dinner at your mother's restaurant. You and Chan would be the only ones not lumped into your father's SUV, and you couldn't help the way you glanced at Chan with a wince. He had a slight grimace on his face as he agreed quietly, the two of you holding up the façade of your fight so as to not make anything obvious. He snuck a few kisses to your lips as the two of you did the dishes, before the two of you turned in for the night. You showered and brushed your teeth, only to have to wait for Chan because you kicked him out of the bathroom before he could offer to save water by showering together. He'd pouted, but it didn't matter. There was a line you couldn't cross…and that's it, right?

Either way – Chan had pulled your back into his chest at some point throughout the night, not that you were complaining. Yesterday morning's shenanigans seemed to have continued – but this time, his hand was up your shirt as he grinded himself against your clothed cunt, nipping his teeth against the skin of your neck. You were about to turn over to kiss him when you heard the heavy knock of your father's hand on the door. You nearly shoved Chan off the bed with how quickly you sat up and jumped over him, answering the door with a flushed look.

"Dad, don't do that! I nearly shit myself." You hold your hand to your chest, and your father holds out two cups of coffee. "You have a shower, you'd survive." "Don't be gross." You grimace, carefully taking the cups and setting them down on the dresser. Chan sits up, eyes squinted as he stretches his arms over his head. "Good morning, Chan." "Good morning, sir." He mumbles, before running his hands over his face. Your father gives you a quizzical glance, seeing your eyes a bit low as he snorts. "You guys might want to wake up, the snow outside is insane and Rosie will want you guys to help her build a snowman." "You can't help her? It's barely six." You rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms as your father smooths your hair down. "I'll give you an hour." "Two hours." Chan groans from the bed, flopping back down and tugging the duvet over his shoulder. You snort, taking a quick sip from the steaming white mug. You crinkle your nose at the bitter taste, only to hear your father laugh softly. "Hour and a half. Deal?" "Deal." You nod tiredly, and he nods as he moves to shut your door. "Set an alarm, or I'm coming in here with pots and pans."

You only nod again, holding the coffee cup to your lips as he shuts it tightly. Looking over your shoulder, you see Chan sitting up on his elbows, a scowl on his lips. "Seriously?" "It's the holiday season and they haven't seen us all year, it's only normal that they want to spend time with us." You roll your eyes as you set down your cup, sliding back under the covers as he grunts. "They can't wait until the sun comes up for that? I love our families, but I don't wanna be outside in subzero temps." "It's not even subzero, dumbass. It's like, seventeen degrees out." You rest your head on your pillow, looking up at him with tired eyes. "Subzero or seventeen, it's still the asscrack of dawn." "Never too early to have your hand up my shirt though, is it?" You say pointedly, and he scoffs as you shift uncomfortably in your sticky shorts. "So if I pull your shorts down, you won't be wet? You weren't complaining." "I never said that, but you're complaining about it being the asscrack of dawn yet you're feeling me up in your pretend sleep." You shake your finger in his face, making him sigh as he lays on his side. "Sometimes I just like touching you, okay? It doesn't always have to end in something, baby." "You mean you like riling me up so I'll be the one to pounce. You're not slick, I know your tricks." You drape his arm over your waist as you face away from him, feeling his lips brush the shell of your ear. "So should I continue or are you going to play hard to get?" "You know, you just reminded me to shove snow down your pants. Maybe then you'll calm down."

He scoffs, pressing a kiss just under your ear before pulling you closer to him. You nestle into his warmth, feeling his hand slip under your shirt. He doesn't move it, his thumb caressing just above your navel as his breathing slows. You close your eyes, but not feeling the thick veil of sleep creeping up on you. Huffing, you turn on your back, making Chan stir slightly but he says nothing. You stare at the ceiling, the early morning sun barely peeking in through your blinds. 

"You're thinking too loud."

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you snort. "Sorry, did my thinking disturb you?" "Go back to sleep, we're not going to get a chance to rest until after dinner." He sighs, before you roll onto your side to face him. "I can't."

He hums, opening his eyes with a sigh. "Better start trying, baby. It's been like twenty minutes since your dad left." 

Rolling your eyes, you shift lower to press your face into his stomach. His hand cards through your hair gently, his fingertips grazing the skin of your neck as they dip below the collar of your shirt. "Comfortable?" "It's alright." You retort, making him laugh quietly. "Just alright?" "You don't need your head to grow any bigger, Lee." "Humor me, will you?"

"Never." You huff, fisting the material of his sweatshirt. His breathing slows once more, but yours still can't match his. Frustration festers in your stomach, and you find yourself tracing circles into his sweatshirt before pushing it up slightly, bunching it around his ribcage. Your fingers make contact with his warm skin, drawing shapes into it with your dull fingernails when you feel him softly tug at your hair.

"Don't start something you can't finish, baby."

You scoff, your breath warm against his skin. "Shut up." He only hums, your fingers continuing their tracing when you find yourself pressing your lips to his skin softly. Once, twice, three times as you move around his slim waist. He shifts slightly, a shaky sigh falling from his lips as you nip at the skin around his navel. Your palm pushes his hip down until he gets the hint, moving to lie on his back as you push his sweatshirt higher. Your thighs rest on his as you straddle him, and you feel the outline of his cock against the soaked fabric of your shorts.

You can feel his eyes on you as your tongue pokes out from between your lips, licking a stripe up his sternum before pressing a kiss between his pecs. You pepper kisses across his chest, feeling his breathing ragged beneath your wandering hands. Your thumb lightly ghosts over his right nipple, and you feel him jolt beneath you.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" He groans, making you smirk against his skin as you flick the tip of your tongue against his nipple, his hands flying to your hips to hold you steady. "Baby." "Stare at the ceiling or something, stop interrupting me." You shrug, before pulling his sweatshirt higher. "Take this off." He obliges, nearly ripping the piece of clothing over his head before sitting up slightly, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a searing kiss. You let out a squeak of surprise, his tongue snaking into your mouth at the opportunity. Your hand snakes up his torso, your fingers pinching lightly at one of his nipples. His hips jerk roughly against you, a moan spilling into your mouth as you pull away quickly, clamping your hand over his lips with a scowl.

"Shut the fuck up! Do you want them to hear you?"

He licks your palm, making you grimace as you wipe it on his shoulder, his hand on your neck pulling you back down to his lips. "I don't give a fuck who hears me as long as you're the one making me sound like this."

"Yeah, well I have shame. Shut your mouth before I put something in it." You snip, but his other hand snaps the waistband of your shorts against your hip. "Yeah? You'll shut me up?" "You're a sick freak." You scoff, shoving yourself off him. "Go lock the door."

His eyes widened as you began to undo the drawstring of your shorts, your thumbs sliding under the waistband with a pointed look. "Hello? Lock the fucking door, Chan." He nearly falls off the bed getting out of the sheets, making you snicker to yourself as you shove your shorts down your legs. You ignore the few strings of arousal connecting you to the ruined cotton and the way the cool air of your bedroom makes you wince, reaching for your phone as Chan slides back into the bed. 

7:15am.

"We only have fifteen minutes." You flick your shorts to the side as you move back over Chan, his eyes wide as he glances at them. "Baby." He breathes, holding them up by the waistband.

"Shut up, I'm ovulating or something." You roll your eyes as a blush coats your cheeks, making him snort. "Or something? Just admit you like it when I feel you up in my 'pretend' sleep." He makes air quotes with his fingers, making you scowl as you take the shorts from his hand.

"Open your mouth, since you can't stop running it." He sticks his tongue out at you, before happily opening his mouth. You stuff the crotch of the shorts into his mouth, ignoring the way his eyes flutter at the taste makes your core clench around nothing. You try not to look at him as you settle yourself onto his chiseled torso, the same faint tattoo mocking you as you try to figure it out. Biting your lip, you gently roll your hips against him, the feeling of the hard muscle against your clit enough to make your legs tremble slightly. He groans around the shorts, his hands moving up your thighs as you grind down against his stomach.

With every rut of your cunt against his lower stomach, you can feel his painfully hard cock poking the meat of your ass. You ignore the way he winces every time, moaning softly around the soaked shorts as his hands move higher on your thighs, his grip only making you whine. It's not long before his stomach is covered in your arousal, your whimpers filling his ears as he covers your mouth with his hand before taking the shorts out of his mouth.

"I can make you cum faster than this." He whines as your thumbs circle around his nipples, but you roll your eyes, "I like it this way." "I know b-baby, but I'm two seconds from blowing in my pants." He sighs shakily as you move his hand from your mouth, pinning it above his head. Your lips brush against his as you lean forward, looking into his glossy eyes. "I'm not fucking you, you have to earn that." "Sit on my face." He breathes against your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of them as you shake your head. "We won't have enough time–" "Two minutes, you know me." He begs, weaseling his arm out of your grip to push you up his torso as you huff. "Chan, it's risky–" "Everything about our entire relationship has been risky, why stop now?" He whispers, and you look at him to see a slightly dejected look in his eyes. He wants to please you, you know he does – and you want him to make it up to you. All those lonely nights missing his face between your thighs like a starved man, all the useless vibrators that got you nowhere near the orgasms he pulled out of you. "Make it fast." You mutter, moving to kneel over his face. He nods silently, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you down, his nose bumping your clit and making you jerk. "Chan!"

"Shh, baby." He murmurs, nosing at your pussy like a dog after a bone. "You smell so fucking good, missed this." 

You squirm as he places a kiss on your clit, your fingers holding onto the metal headboard for stability as he flicks his tongue against it teasingly. He moans into your wet heat, his pouty lips wrapping around your sensitive bud as you force yourself to swallow your whines, rocking your hips against his face, feeling your end coming embarrassingly fast.

"Chan." You breathe out, reaching down to pull at his hair as he furrows his brows, his tongue messily collecting your arousal with soft grunts. "Mmh?" You don't say anything, hoping he just knows what you mean as you let a whine slip, your thighs tightening around his head. He forces them apart, using his strength to grind you against his tongue. You're a whimpering mess above him, your thighs trembling as you fall forward against the headboard. You're gripping the metal with your hands as you come undone with a whisper of his name, feeling your stomach cave in as he keeps licking at you.

A knock at the door makes him stop (and you jerk), his arms holding you firmly against him as he clears his throat. "Yes?" "Are you guys up? Why is this door locked?" It's your mother, and she jiggles the doorknob as Chan laughs, lying on the spot. "I'm sorry, I'm changing! Y/N is about to get in the shower, she'll be out in twenty minutes, I promise." "Tell Y/N to wear leggings under her pants, it's freezing out there." She's not suspicious, and Chan gives you a look of relief as he answers. "Will do! Thank you!" "You're welcome!" The two of you sit in silence as you wait a few moments, before you feel Chan's tongue snake through your folds. You try to push off his face, but your legs feel like jelly as he fucks the tip of his tongue into you. "S-Stop, we have to go." "I bought us twenty minutes, gorgeous. Let me do what I gotta do." He mutters, practically making out with your clit as you squirm away. "Chan, we have to get up." He sighs, his hands massaging your thighs. "Can never relax, hm?" "Be so fucking serious." You scoff, mustering all your energy to get off his face. He watches as you lay on your stomach with a groan, "I can't even get up. Fuck you, man." "Please do. I never want to cum in my pants again, this shit feels so gross." He grimaces, sitting up and running his hands over your thighs, digging his thumbs into the sore muscles. You peek at his pants, your fingers coming to lift the waistband when he swats your fingers. 

"Come on, we have to shower or they won't buy it."

"Any time I've showered with you, you've tried to slide your dick between my asscheeks. I don't trust you." You snort, and he only lands a soft smack to your outer thigh. "It's a wonderful ass, can you blame me? But, for the sake of time and your so-called shame, I'll skip out on it." "Ugh, fine."

Chan stays true to his word, the ten-minute shower consisting of nothing but soft kissing under the showerhead and soapy hands sliding around naked bodies. Him finishing in his pants isn't a lie, either – and you apologize by letting him tongue at your nipples for two minutes. Every touch landing where it's not supposed to, pulling soft whines from each other as tongues slipped from mouths to collarbones before he reminded you that you couldn't mark each other above the neck if you wanted to remain undiscovered.

Chan toweled his hair dry and got changed quickly to appease your awaiting parents, but didn't leave the bathroom without a kiss…or three, to your lips. He lingered a bit as you dried your hair, a warm smile on his face as he watched your scrunched face in the mirror – when you caught his eye. "What?" "I love you." 

He doesn't wait for you to respond, only tucking his coat under his arm as he exits your bedroom. You pretend it doesn't make your knees weak as you pull two pairs of leggings on, and your snow pants. You pretend it doesn't fill your stomach with butterflies as you tug on two pairs of socks and your heavy boots. You pretend it doesn't make your cheeks warm as you pull on one of his t-shirts under your sweater, and you pretend it doesn't make you tingle with excitement as you shove on your coat and tuck your scarf under your chin. You slip out of your bedroom with your lip balm in your hand, only to see Mrs. Lee and your mother scolding Chan as he sits in one of the dining room chairs, your mother's hair dryer blowing hot air in his face. He's wincing as they let him have it, a pout on his lips as he sees you. "Tell them you hogged the hairdryer!" He begs, making you smirk. "I'd be lying, wouldn't I?" You reach out to ruffle his hair, sticking your tongue out at him as you make your way to the kitchen. You see Rosie and your father holding hot packs to their faces, your little sister's nose red from the cold. "Have fun out there, babycakes?" You ask, leaning on the island with a smile as she nods quickly. "Mingyu and Soonyoung helped me make a snowman! You and Channie have to help me, too. It has to be bigger!" "You met Mingyu and Soonyoung already? I haven't even met them!" You feign offense as she nods, your father rolling his eyes. "If you had been up earlier, Chan could've given you a proper introduction." "I was not going to be up at six in the morning to make a snowman, I'm sorry." You shrug, before checking your watch. "It's only eight, how are you guys so chipper?" "We don't have to wash all the dishes after supper. So I guess you're off the hook for not being up earlier." Your mother snorts from the kitchen entrance, a red-cheeked Chan following behind her. He sticks his tongue out at you, making you snort. "Nice hair, man." "Shut up." He rolls his eyes, and your mother sighs as she slides two plates of breakfast food in front of you. "Eat up, we've got a busy morning." You and Chan glance at each other, knowing she means that the entire family has to work to tire Rosie out enough that she takes a nap sooner rather than later. If she goes down later, everyone will be late for Christmas Eve dinner.

Which will make your mother very upset, and God forbid you make your mother upset during the holiday season!

You and Chan practically scarf your breakfast down as Rosie excitedly recounts how Mingyu and Soonyoung kept fighting over what carrot would make the best nose for her snowman. She smiles cutely as she holds up a carrot your father was holding, "But I saved the best one for our snowman, guys!" Your heart melts as she says that, your lip jutting out in a pout as you shovel the last of your waffles into your mouth. You take your plate and Chan's to the sink as she continues speaking, careful not to get your sleeves wet as you wash them quickly. Chan dries them as she gets to the part where Mingyu spit a raisin at Soonyoung, making you choke on your water. Rosie stops mid-story, tugging your father out of the kitchen – insisting she was all warmed up and ready to go back outside. "Save me!" Your father mouths as he allows your little sister to drag him out, making you snicker to yourself. Chan slides the plate into the cupboard, running the rag around the sink basin as the kitchen grows quiet. You swallow the last of your water, only to feel Chan's fingers on your jaw.

"Just a quick one." He utters quietly, his eyes darting to the entryway as you roll your eyes, pecking a chaste kiss onto his lips. He can't help but hold you in place, kissing you again slowly when you hear the door open. You push him away, sliding your empty glass onto the island as Mr. Lee yells into the house. "Get out here!" You both nearly trip over each other trying to exit the kitchen, Mr. Lee shoving two pairs of gloves in your hands as he shoves the two of you out. Chan shivers next to you, looping his arm with yours as you carefully make your way off your porch. You tug the gloves on, giving him the other pair as you brave the winter air.

"It's colder than a witch's tits." You hear someone say, and your head whips around to see two guys sitting in two folding chairs next to an abomination of a snowman, holding cups of coffee between ungloved fingers. Chan rolls his eyes as he tugs you towards them, their eyes averting to you and the one with blond hair nearly spits his coffee out.

"Don't be fucking weird, okay?" Chan says, and the blond one scoffs. "You didn't say she was a fucking bombshell, Chan!" "Maybe because it's none of your business if she is or isn't! She'd never date you, anyway." Chan pulls you close suddenly, and you smile sheepishly at the two men.

"Hi, Y/N." The brunet smiles at you, his eyes trailing you a bit too long for Chan's liking. "Don't look at his teeth, that's how he gets you." Chan covers your eyes with his hand, making you scoff as you pull it down.

"Don't be a baby, Chan." You roll your eyes, before extending your gaze to the men. "It's nice to meet you guys. Who is who?" "Mingyu." The blond one points at the brunet, who points back at him. "Soonyoung, resident idiot.' "Hey!" Soonyoung shoves him, making Mingyu snort. "It's the truth, Rosie made him eat a disk of snow with raisins on it."

You laugh as Chan sulks, making you pinch his cheek and coo. "Don't be jealous, Channie. As long as neither of them is taller than you–" "Suddenly, I need to stretch." Soonyoung says with a grin, and Mingyu rolls his eyes as Soonyoung tugs him up. Soonyoung is only two inches taller, but you find yourself whistling lowly at Mingyu's height.

"You're huge, dude." You look up at him, earning a huff from Chan. Mingyu smiles around the rim of his cup, shrugging as he takes a sip. "You're not the first to say that, but I can fit you in my schedule if you'd like to see what else is big." "Dude, no fair. He doesn't wash his socks, you know." Soonyoung scowls, making you snort. "Yeah? What about you, Soonie?" "Enough! We're out here to build a snowman that's better than your absolute monstrosity, not for you two to hit on my best friend until I vomit!" Chan stomps his foot like a toddler, and you laugh, patting his chest. "Chan, buddy, reign it in! Go get Rosie." He looks hesitant as his cousins make eyes at you. There's a pout on his lips as you pinch his cheek again, whispering in his ear. "Be a good boy and fetch, yeah?"

He should be embarrassed at how quickly his cheeks tinge pink at your words, ignoring his cousins' teasing as he turns on his heel to find Rosie. He watches from his peripheral as they joke with you, how easily they make you laugh and how you fit right in with the duo. His heart warms a bit at the idea of his extended family liking you so quickly, but the idea quickly gets shoved aside as he remembers how flirtatious and greasy his cousins can be. The next two hours are spent with Mingyu and Soonyoung calling you pretty and cute to bother Chan, and you instigating the compliments to get under his skin. Rosie got tired halfway through building the snowman, and made you promise you wouldn't finish it without her. She gave you the carrot for safekeeping, making you tuck it into your jacket pocket as your father hauled her into the house. Your mother and Mrs. Lee made a quick trip down to the restaurant, and your father and Mr. Lee opted to salt the driveways and sidewalks for the dinner trip later that day.

Chan? He's tonguing his cheek as he packs snow in his hand, hearing Mingyu call you gorgeous as you take a sip from his cup of coffee. He chucks it in his direction, hitting Mingyu square in the shoulder. Mingyu stops talking as he feels the impact, his jaw dropping as he sees the snow sliding off the leather of his thick jacket. He wipes the snow off his jacket with a boyish grin, and your eyes widen as Soonyoung quickly throws a snowball at Chan – who dodges it and lands one of his own on Soonyoung's chest.

You snort to yourself as the trio begin to throw snowballs of various sizes between each other, opting to settle in Mingyu's folding chair with your legs crossed. You hold his cup of coffee, before calling out to the men. "Whoever wins gets to help me pin Chan down and shove snow down his pants!" Mingyu smirks, running his tongue over his teeth as he zeros in on Chan – who is gaping at you. "Oh, come on! That's not fucking fair!" "Good luck!" You hold up Mingyu's cup, tilting it towards them as the two men begin to chase after Chan, who has a hefty head start as he hides behind your father's SUV before hopping the fence to your backyard. Your dad snorts as he salts the sidewalk you're sitting on, "You're awful to that boy, you know." "A little snow down the pants never killed anyone." You retort, making him shake his head. "How're Mingyu and Soonyoung? Nice fellas, eh?" "If you count them flirting with me to piss Chan off nice, I'd say so." You grin, and he rolls his eyes. "You're something else, honey. Just talk to the kid." "I do talk to him, Dad. Trust me, I talk. He just doesn't listen." Rolling your eyes, you hear something reminiscent of a battle cry when you see Chan pelting Mingyu and Soonyoung with snowballs as he whizzes past you and your father, making you both double over in laughter as they round the corner into the next neighborhood. It fades to quiet for a moment, before you hear yet another shriek, followed by a fuck yeah!

You and your father look up to see Mingyu holding Chan over his shoulder, thrashing in order to free himself. Soonyoung throws his scarf around Mingyu's waist, effectively tying Chan's legs to the bigger man. Chan slumps against Mingyu, and you almost feel bad as your father shakes his head at you, "Not too much snow, Y/N. Be considerate." "You got it, boss!" You call after him as he shuffles into the house, and Mingyu grins as he presents Chan to you, turning around to show you the defeated pout on his face. "You hate me, Y/N. You hate me and you're going to freeze my dick off with a chunk of snow." "I could never hate you, Channie. But, I do want you to suffer just a bit." You smirk, and he sighs. "Put me down!" "Will you run?" You take a sip of the cup, and Chan's eyes flash with jealousy. "No. But you can't use more than a snowball's worth of snow. Promise me." He holds his pinky out, and you wait until Soonyoung turns around to grab his coffee to peck his cheek. He flushes, but you can just barely tell under his wind-bitten skin. "No promises, Channie." Mingyu manages to wrestle his arms behind his back, Soonyoung just teasing Chan as they all watch you gather snow in your gloved hands. Chan whines pitifully in Mingyu's hold as you approach with a decent amount of snow in your hands and an evil smile on your face.

"Y/N, please. I'll beg, I will! Don't do this–" Your best friend squirms in Mingyu's arms, and you make kissy faces at him as your hand pulls at his waistband. The flannel lining is stark red against the white snow, and Chan braces himself as you press a shameless kiss to his forehead.

"Y/N, don't! I'll buy your breakfast for a month! I won't ever drop you during practice again, baby please–fuck!" Chan thrashes against Mingyu as the snow slides down his legs, having foolishly only worn the snow pants over his boxers. "Oh you fucking hate me, oh my God! Let me go!" He frees himself from Mingyu, who can barely hold himself up from laughing as Chan shakes the snow out of his pants, jumping around like a frog to warm himself up. "Go get in the shower before you get frostbite on your balls!" Soonyoung calls after him as he races into your house, making you snort as you finish off the last of Mingyu's coffee.

"Love that guy, he's so easy to torture." You roll your eyes as you take Mingyu's chair once more, earning a warm look from Mingyu. "How long did you guys date back then? He only told us so much." You shrug, "Couple months. A really good two months, but…just the two."

You toy with the cup, before Soonyoung sighs. "He's a good kid. Please don't break his heart again, I don't think he can take it." He rubs his neck, and Mingyu nods, kicking snow off his boot. "It's funny that we've never met you until now, Chan has talked about you as long as he's been able to."  The statement makes you snort. "Yeah, well. Chan's a jealous guy, that's how we even started dating in the first place. He didn't like that his frat brothers were making eyes at me when I helped him move in, but I guess he just never understood that…" You trail off, clearing your throat when Soonyoung finishes your sentence. "Understood that he's the only one for you?" He tries, and you sigh, nodding. "Yeah." "That's cute. Like, so cute. Adorable, even." Mingyu teases, and you lightly punch his shoulder. "Shut up." "I always thought Chan would end up with you. The amount of times we'd have to kick him off the Playstation because he'd talk about you instead of playing his turn was insane." Soonyoung scoffs, taking a sip from his cup. "I think I've heard your favorite color at least eighty times in my lifetime, tell me it's still green." "It is still green, ha." You smile shyly, and Mingyu lies down in the snow, staring at the sky. "Well, it's nice to know Chan has someone who clearly cares. I know you guys broke up because of school, right? Too busy and all that." "I felt so overwhelmed. We broke up and he made the fucking Dean's list, I was crushed when I didn't. Then again, Chan's always been better at masking how he feels when it comes to…things between us." Shrugging, you feel the heat of Soonyoung's gaze.

"Finding out about all those girls must've gotten to you, huh? He was an idiot, I told him he was when he talked to me about it. He cried, too. Dumbass." Soonyoung rolls his eyes, and your own widen. "He cried? Why?" "He told me two years ago, I think it was summer. I came up here, but you'd gone to a cheer camp for a few days and you came back the day that I left. We got drunk in the backyard and he cried his eyes out about you, and how none of the girls compared to you." He shrugs, and Mingyu pipes up. 

"I was there, too. My best friend was apparently the one who told him to fuck other girls, I cannot tell you how big of a fight we got into when I confronted him about it. It was so ugly, and I was pissed for so long."

"Wonwoo is also one to fucking talk, he's been stuck on one of my friends for ages. Last time he visited, I swear he lost his mind seeing her in her bikini." Soonyoung scoffs, and you nod quietly, "Chan is a dumbass, you're right."

"How long did it take you to move on? Did you?" Mingyu asks, propping himself up on his elbows. You frown, shaking your head. "I slept with one other guy, a year ago. It was okay, but you know." "It wasn't Chan." Soonyoung says softly, and you only slump in your chair. "I felt so pathetic. I still do, sometimes. It's hard not to think about those other girls when he's constantly just…there. He's both the angel and devil on my shoulder, he's consistently encouraging me but then he comes home for the holidays with me and he hurts my feelings." Mingyu sits up fully, a furrow on his brow as he looks at you.

"What do you mean?" "Ugh, it doesn't matter. It was stupid, and he apologized but now…now he's acting like he's in love with me, still. And I…don't know how to take it, or if I should believe him." You murmur, covering your face with your hands as Soonyoung hums. "Well, what did he say to make you think he's still in love with you?" "He said it, verbatim. He says he loves me, he said he wanted to try to win me back. He said that nothing meant anything to him after we broke up, and that he's looked for me in every girl he's been with since." Your voice is slightly muffled by your gloves, and you miss the endeared glances Soonyoung and Mingyu share.

"Then there you have it, Y/N. Not much to question when he's so outright, is there?" Soonyoung speaks around his cup, and you sigh, pushing yourself off the chair. "I guess…I don't know. We're taking a drive after dinner tonight, we might talk then. When do you guys leave?" "In about two hours. But, give us your contact information, you're funny." Mingyu holds his phone out, and you roll your eyes but quickly type in your information. Soonyoung hands you his as well, and they both send you a text to confirm their numbers. You give them each a hug goodbye, with Mingyu pinching your cheek and telling you to just go with the flow. Soonyoung ruffles your hair and tells you that at the end of the day, Chan is just a man and no matter how much you love him, you've got to put yourself first.

And you agree.

You don't get a chance to check in with Chan after saying goodbye to his cousins, because your father ropes you into waking Rosie up and helping her get dressed for dinner. You're holed away in her room, carefully curling her hair when she asks you about Chan.

"Do you hold hands with him?" She asks you suddenly, and you look at her in the mirror, the bathroom light making her dress glitter brighter. Hers was a soft ivory color, likely one to match your mother's. Your father had told you he'd get a champagne tie and pocket square so you'd all look cohesive, and you'd agreed as he left you to babysit Rosie – only for your mother to bang around in the kitchen moments after he left.

"With who, babycakes?" "With Channie, Y/N!" She whines as you spray her hair, and you snort. "Sometimes. When we cross the street, or sometimes just because. He's my best friend, we can do stuff like that." "Have you ever had a crush on him, Y/N?" She wiggles her eyebrows in the mirror, and you laugh, pressing a kiss to her hairline. "Yeah, I have. You can have crushes on your friends, it's very common. It's not always the best idea, though. It can be really hurtful if they don't like you back." "So were you boyfriend and girlfriend or not? Because you say no but Mommy said yes." She got you, hook, line and sinker. You gape at her, and her eyes are pointed as you scoff. "Okay, fine. We were boyfriend and girlfriend for a little bit." "A little bit!? Why not forever? Ugh!" She gripes, and you can only hold back your shock as you smear a little bit of sunscreen on her face. "Well, sometimes things just don't work out, babycakes. Plus, Channie and I will always be best friends." "Daddy told me that he and Mommy were best friends and now they're married. Maybe you and Channie can get married, too!"

You feel your chest grow warm at the idea of marrying Chan, and the fact that Rosie liked him so much that she wanted that for you. You recall your father also telling you the story of how he and your mother met, and why he was so adamant that you and Chan would figure it out. He told you that story so many times over the years, you had it practically memorized.

"Maybe, Rosie." You grin, kissing her nose. "No promises." "It's okay, Channie promised me." She shrugs, climbing out of her chair as you freeze. "What? What'd you say?" "I said, Channie promised me. I asked him yesterday when we were playing Barbies in the car. But it's a secret, so don't tell him I told you." She says sternly, making you gape as she abandons you to find your mother downstairs. You take a deep breath, ignoring the way your stomach fills with fluttering as you make your way downstairs. You see Chan sitting at the dinner table, hair mussed from the wind outside as your mother serves him a cup of coffee. His eyes catch yours, and you quickly look away as you jump the rest of the stairs and dart into your bedroom.

You barely make it to your bedroom without the tears spilling down your face, and you lock the door behind you. You slide down the door, pulling your knees to your chest as you think back to all the moments between you and Chan. All the times he said he loved you, all the times he said he couldn't imagine a life without you.

The time in the backseat of his car, almost three years to the date – where he said both over and over again. Where he dragged his lips anywhere you'd let him, whispers of how perfect you were for him and how insane you made him feel. Where he made you cry as he touched you just right, biting at your shoulders and digging his dull nails into your hips.

Where he told you that you'd tattooed your name across his heart and it was yours forever.

Your body shook with ragged sobs, and you forced yourself to get up off the floor as regret only sank further in. You broke up with him. It was the right thing to do, for the sake of your friendship and the idea of any future together. It was the right thing to do.

"Fuck." You hold yourself over the sink of your bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and letting it drip into the basin. Your tears mixed with the water, and you hear a soft knock at your bedroom door, before the doorknob wiggles. "Y/N? Are you alright in there?" It's your father. You quickly dry your face with a towel, tossing it into the sink before ripping the door open. "Hey, Dad. D'ya get your stuff?" "Honey, are you alright?" His face is worried as his hand comes up to your cheek, and you quickly nod. "I'm good, I promise. I just had one of those moments, you know. Seasonal depresh and what not." He quirks a brow at you, "Seasonal depresh?"

"Dad!" You whine, and he shrugs. "Yes, I got my pocket square. Can you check if it matches your dress? Oh, tell me you're gonna go for curls this year, because your mom is and she's mad that Rosie's are 'too tight.'" He rolls his eyes at the same time you do, making you snort. "Yeah, I'll check. I'm gonna start getting ready now, can you let Chan know so he doesn't come barging in here?" "He's at his house, he just left. He'll be driving you both, though, so you can be comfortable in your shoes." He nods, and you take the pocket square. "I'll get this to you when I'm done, okay?" "For sure, honey. I'll be back later, don't rush." He nods, closing the door as he leaves. You toss the pocket square onto the vanity, before looking into it with a slightly defeated look. You grimace, before grabbing a towel out of one of your drawers.

It didn't take you too long to get ready – you got in and out of the shower, and did your hair within two hours. Your makeup was done an hour later, with Rosie barging into your room and demanding you put lipstick on her, too. You rolled your eyes at her, telling her to say please, telling her to say thank you – both of which she did after you swiped the wine red on her lips. She scampered out of your room as you slipped into your closet, your mother appearing in your doorway to offer her help with zipping you up.

"You look just like me sometimes." She murmurs as she zips the dress, her fingers nimbly hooking the clasp at the top. She runs her fingers through the large curls you'd given yourself, smiling at you in the mirror. You give her a weak one in return, when she sighs, her hands on your shoulders.

"I wanted to apologize, baby." Her eyes are worried as you glance at them through the mirror, your fingers fumbling with the jewelry box in front of you. "Apologize? For what?" "A few years ago, I told you that I thought you were a little too harsh with your words around Chan. I think I went as far as calling you the brute of the relationship, didn't I?" She asks softly, and you look away as you tongue at your lower lip. "Yeah." "I'm sorry. I spoke to Chan earlier after his cousins left, he came in for a cup of coffee before he went to go get ready for dinner. I asked him a few questions about you, and he told me what he said to you a few days ago." She tucks a stray curl behind your ear, thumbing at the hoops she'd given you so many years ago. "It was really shitty of him to speak to you that way, and I told him so. I also told him that if he thinks he has even a remote chance of fixing things with you, that he better get on it soon. You're too kind for your own good sometimes, darling." "You think so?" You mumble, your eyes falling on a necklace Chan gave you for your birthday the year Rosie was born. You hadn't had a party that year, insisting Rosie was more important than anything else. He'd given it to you anyway, on the bus the morning of your birthday. You cried like a baby into his shoulder.

"I know so, honey. I know that somewhere in that heart of yours, you're waiting for him to make things right. Sometimes, I don't agree with it, but I also know you. I know you don't give anyone who doesn't deserve a second chance even a moment to speak to you. You're strong like that, just like your father."

You smile inwardly, her fingers lightly pinching your cheek. "I know you're good at taking care of yourself, but I also know Chan can take good care of you, too. I want you to be happy, and I know Chan makes you happier. You should've seen how you came into the house that year you were dating. You were smiling from ear to ear, like the Cheshire cat." She leaves with a kiss to your cheek, careful not to smudge her own lipstick onto it. She closes the door quietly, but not before you hear the Lees greet your father warmly as they filed into your home. You thumb at the necklace, the simple heart-shaped locket opening to a picture of you and Chan as teenagers. You often wore it open, liking when people asked you questions about the picture. No bigger than a coin, the gold locket has always been something you carried with you even if you didn't wear it.

"Y/N, I'm here for my pocket square!" Your father knocks on the door, and you open the door, holding it out. "Here you go." "Oh, honey! You look so pretty!" Your father covers his face as you spin, before he takes his pocket square. "Wow, you look so much like your mother sometimes." "Funny, she said the same thing." You snort, and he uses the vanity in your bedroom to fix his pocket square carefully. "We discussed seating charts, you're sitting between Chan and Rosie. Is that okay, or should I switch one of them out?" "That's fine. Can you actually send Chan in here? I need to talk to him." You nod, and your father glances at you in the mirror. "Are you sure?" "Positive. Won't take long."

Your father leaves with a kiss to your hairline, and you fumble with the necklace until you hear footsteps outside your door. You lean carefully, hearing a deep breath before a knock. "Come in." Chan slides through the door with closed eyes, almost like he's bracing himself for something. You snort, "What the hell is wrong with you? Open your eyes." "Your dad said you need to talk to me, and if you're going to dump me again, I don't need you to look beautiful doing it." He rushes out, making you gape. "Chan." "I'm serious. I haven't seen you yet but I know you look great. I mean, you always look amazing but I don't think I can handle you dumping me on Christmas Eve when you're in one of those pretty dresses you always wear." He can hardly breathe, and you can't help but laugh. "Nobody's getting dumped, please relax. I just need your help putting my necklace on." "I don't believe you, you could've asked your dad." He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut so tightly you're worried they might never open again. You walk over to him, running your fingers through his hair carefully, before thumbing at the small silver hoop in his ear. "You know we're not exactly together, right?" "In my mind, we've been married since we were in second grade and Hyewon officiated it." He scoffs, and you quirk an eyebrow. "Is that why you promised my sister we'd get married?" His eyes open wide, his lips parting slightly. "She told you?" "Oh good, your eyes are open. Help me put this on." You turn around, grabbing the necklace off your vanity. You pinch the chain carefully, holding it out to him when you look up to see his hand covering his mouth. His eyes rake over you slowly, and you feel your cheeks grow hot as he walks around you. You shift uneasily as he makes it back in front of you, "Do I look okay?" "Okay?" He whispers, making you look in the mirror. You run your hands down the bodice of the dress, "Is it too much?" "Too much?" He's still whispering, his eyes still running up and down your frame as you grow nervous. "Chan! You're freaking me out!" "Oh, baby." He murmurs, taking a few steps closer to you, taking your hand gently and making you spin for him. You feel nerves settle in your stomach, when he finally speaks. "You look so beautiful. I truly don't think words can express how absolutely angelic you look, are you real? Please tell me you're real, this would be a cruel dream." His eyes are wide and slightly glossy as he turns around, and you hear a soft sniffle. You watch his hands move around his face from behind him, your eyes growing wide as he turns back around, teary-eyed as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "No, it's not too much. You're never too much. You look great. Are you ready?" You gawk at him, "Chan, why are you crying?" "Nevermind that." He shakes his head, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. Your brows are furrowed, and you hold out the necklace. "Help me put this on." He glances at the necklace, his cheeks and ears burning a soft pink hue as you spin around, moving your hair to the front. He sighs shakily, carefully looping the locket around your neck and clipping it. You adjust the locket, your lips pursed as you open it. "Wear it like that." He speaks behind you, his hand appearing on your hip in the reflection. You raise a brow, closing the locket only to hear a whine as he rests his chin on your shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you open it, adjusting it to show the small photo of the two of you. "How was saying goodbye to your cousins? They had a lot to say about you." "It was fine. We sent them off with your mom's leftover cake, and Soonyoung finished it in the car before they even drove off. Mingyu was pissed." He snorts, and you hum quietly, reaching for the jewelry box once more. You sifted through your rings, Chan pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.

"I missed you." He pouts, and you give him a half-smirk as you peer down at him. "Did you, now?" "Stop talking to me like that, I'll get hard. You did it earlier too, but I was ashamed then, there were people around." He buries his face into your neck, and you snort out a laugh. "What are you talking about? I'm not talking to you in any sort of way." "Oh, so telling me to fetch like a dog isn't talking down to me?" He scoffs, cheeks aflame as he meets your eyes in the mirror. You suck your teeth, sliding on one of your rings with a shake of your head. "You liked that? You're something else, Chan." "I've literally always been like this, you just didn't notice before." Rolling his eyes, he wraps his arms around your waist. This is when you notice his suit jacket cuffed with silver cufflinks, a gift from your father years ago for graduation. You twist slightly, the top two buttons of his black shirt undone to show off a few layered chains. Some were gifts from you.

Your hand pushes him back slightly, his eyes never leaving your face as he lets you run yours all over him. Your fingers tug at his belt buckle, "You look really nice." "You can do better than that." He chides, and you swallow a scoff but roll your eyes as you pull him to you by his belt loop. You press your lips to his lightly, "You take what you're given, or nothing at all." He breathes out heavily against your lips, and you move your hand to rest on his stomach. "Are you ready? They're going to want to take pictures before we leave."

He can't reply, the two of you springing apart when you hear a knock at the door. You cough as Chan blinks, before opening it to reveal Rosie. "Hi, pipsqueak." "Mommy said that if you're not in the living room, she's going to leave you both here." She relays with a roll of her eyes, and you hold back a snort. "Can't have that, can we?" Rosie asks Chan to pick her up as you slide on one last ring, your fingers fumbling with the lights. Rosie's pink cast is around Chan's neck as he holds her on his hip, and you instinctively slot your fingers with his before remembering your parents will see you. He squeezes your fingers lightly, a sheepish smile on his lips as you let go.

"Wow!" Mrs. Lee is the first person you hear as you step into the living room, your cheeks burning as she clambers over. "Look at you, honey! Oh, you're so grown up." Her hands are tucking your hair behind your ears, the both of you missing the way Chan's eyes fill with adoration as he delivers Rosie to your father. He clears his throat inwardly, watching the way your parents move in front of your fireplace for photos. He can't keep his eyes off you the entire time, even as his parents shove the two of you together for a photo.

"Chan, don't act like you did on prom night. Act like you wanna be here." Your mother scolds him playfully, and you feel your heart flutter as you tug his arm around your waist. His fingers easily settle low on your hip, your own finding his shoulder and you rest your cheek on top. "Smile!" Chan's fingers squeeze your hip as everyone turns away, sneakily pressing his lips to your temple as you begin to move away. Your eyes are wide as he walks away, grabbing your coat off your father's hands and helping you slide it on from behind. Everyone is trying to help Rosie, and he takes the opportunity to whisper in your ear.

"I'm so in love with you. I wish things were different right now." He sighs, carefully tucking your hair into the hood of your coat. You feel your cheeks heat as you turn so he can zip it up, wrapping your scarf loosely around your neck as he connects the zipper at the bottom. 

"I know. Eventually, okay? Just give me some time." You mumble back, tucking the end of your scarf into the coat as he nods defeatedly. You resist the urge to caress his cheek, run your fingers through his hair, kiss him. A weak smile is all you can muster as he straightens fully, adjusting your scarf so the zipper won't snag.

Your parents are looking your way, your mother watching the way Chan carefully zips your coat up. Your father smiles as he makes your mother turn away, "Your keys are in Chan's coat. Lock the door, come on." The two of you scramble behind your parents, Chan hastily shoving his coat on as you wrap his scarf around him as he walks forward. You tuck it into the coat as he zips himself up, his hand holding you steady in your heels as you step onto the porch. He locks the door quickly, trying the doorknob twice as your father helps your mother down the steps, and he offers his hand when he looks at your feet. "Y/N, why are your shoes open-toed? Are you out of your mind?" "I didn't have any heels that matched! It'll be fine!" You huff, and he gestures at the snowy pathway leading to your car. "Your toes are going to freeze and then you're going to get sick and die. Do you want to get sick and die, Y/N?" He scoffs, and you feel your scream caught in your throat as he picks you up princess-style. "Chan! Put me down!" He ignores you as he steps off the porch, carefully maneuvering his way to your car as you huff. Your lip is jutted out in a pout as he unlocks your car, bending at the knee to open your door and carefully set you down on the seat. He buckles your seatbelt in for you as your father pulls out of the driveway, giving you a honk as he turns out of your neighborhood. Chan shuts your door, rounding the front of the car to the driver's side. "You didn't have to do that." You mutter as he slides in, sticking the keys into the ignition as he shivers. "Yes, I did. Don't be brat, just let me take care of you." You don't reply, picking at your nails as he plugs his phone into the aux, handing it to you. Shuffling one of his playlists, the two of you freeze as you hear the opening notes of Meddle About by Chase Atlantic flow through the speakers. Chan purses his lips, single handedly unplugging his phone and tossing it into the backseat. "Nope. No music tonight, it seems."

"I thought you liked that song." You reach for his phone, grabbing it off the edge of the backseat and sliding it into the cupholder as he pulls out of the neighborhood. He has a tick in his jaw as he flicks on the turn signal, "I like it when we're in the backseat and you're on top of me, not when I'm driving you to dinner and not when you're in my clothes on the drive to your house." Your jaw could very well be on the floor the way you're gaping at him, his fingers reaching over to close your mouth. "Chan." "What? I think about that night all the time." He scoffs, turning onto the main street that makes the drive to your mother's restaurant five minutes longer. His hand floats down to your thigh, settling high on it through the slit of your dress. Tonguing your cheek, you stare out the window as your hand settles atop his. "You mean the night that–" "Shut up." You snicker to yourself, sliding your fingers between his. "You know it's not the worst thing in the world, right? Tons of people have breeding kinks." He winces as you say it, making a strangled noise of discomfort from his seat before glancing at you. "Y/N, I want you to take a really good look at me right now and tell me that it wasn't weird." He scoffs, and you shrug, facing him.

"It wasn't weird. I liked it." You admit, "I think the slightly weirder part was calling you daddy, but some things you do out of…you know." You trail off, feeling your cheeks hot as you look out the window. Chan makes a noise of approval, his hand flipping beneath yours to interlace your fingers. He brings your knuckles to his lips, a chaste kiss pressed on top of your rings. "I know, babe." The rest of the ride is silent, some shy glances shared before you pull into the parking lot where your father is waiting with Rosie. You smile, squeezing his hand in the shadow of the center console before letting go. Chan pulls around the building, looking for a parking spot. "We're still taking that drive later, right?" "If you're not too tired, or drunk." He snorts, and you gasp, landing a soft smack to his arm. "I got drunk one time!" "You called me daddy one time, I think that goes to show that you're game for anything at least once." He teases, and you sigh inwardly. "I guess that's true." "I know it is, I know you like the back of my hand. I love you." He says, mostly to himself as he pulls into a spot just a few feet from the door. Killing the engine, he looks over the steering wheel at your father. "Can your dad see us from here?" "I don't think so, he's entertaining Rosie. Why?" You unbuckle your seatbelt as he gets out, and you feel the door close as he rounds the car to open your door. You wait, before feeling the cold gust of winter air rush into the car. You shiver, grabbing Chan's phone out of the cupholder and taking his hand to step out. He pulls you close, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears as you look into his eyes. "Something wrong?" "No." He shakes his head, a soft smile on his lips as he thumbs at your earlobes. You tilt your head at him, eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?" "Don't drink tonight." He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you nod slowly. "Any special reason?" 

He shrugs, before looping his arm with yours and pulling you towards the front of the restaurant. You can't help but look up at him with a shy smile as he guides you around piles of snow, before seeing the flash of a camera. You blink rapidly, before looking up to see your father holding Rosie on his hip, her hands holding a camera. Chan greets your father warmly, and Rosie shows him the photo. "Can I see, too?" You ask, peering over Chan's shoulder when Rosie tilts it away. "No." Your pout does nothing to sway your baby sister, making Chan snicker at you. The four of you walk into the restaurant, the warm air of the establishment like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. "I still can't believe your parents named both their businesses after you." Chan murmurs as you walk to the reserved room your mother arranges every year, and you snort.

"What can I say, they love me." You shrug, resting your head on his shoulder. Rosie looks over your father's shoulder, a crinkle in her nose as she sees the closeness between the two of you. "Are you sure you're not boyfriend and girlfriend?" "We're sure, babycakes." You laugh softly, moving to pull yourself away from Chan but feeling his fingers interlace with yours before you can. You glance at him, only to see him sticking his tongue out at Rosie, who blows a raspberry at him. A pit of anxiety opens in your stomach as your father opens the door for you both, letting you slip by when you feel Chan's fingers let go of yours, and a murmur of Can I talk to you, sir?

Rosie enters with you, Chan and your father lingering at the door before they take a turn back outside. Your eyes widen as Rosie leads you to the table, your mother sharing the same quizzical look. "Y/N, where's Chan? Did you guys fight?" "No, no. He's…he's with Dad." You reply absently, pulling your coat off as your mother helps Rosie out of hers. The table is set and covered entirely with food, the roast pig being the main attraction in the center of the table. You find your seat, pulling Rosie closer to you to fill the strange pit you feel. Chan and your father don't appear for another ten minutes, but they're both rather stoic as they enter – but you see a soft smile on his face as Chan takes his seat opposite your father.

"Everything okay?" Mrs. Lee asks gently, and Chan nods. "Don't worry, all good." If anyone notices how quiet you are during dinner, they don't say anything. You feel the heat of Chan's gaze more than once, but everyone is too wrapped up in the food and the conversation – to even notice the fact that Rosie fell asleep into her mashed potatoes. You're the one who realizes she's fallen asleep, cooing as you carefully wipe her face and wrap her coat around her as her head lolls onto your arm. You scoot closer, lifting her onto your lap and resting her head on your chest.

"Did she fall asleep?" Your mother asks incredulously, making you snort. "Right into her mashed potatoes. Don't worry, I got it." You wrap your arms around her, leaning back in your chair. "Your dinner, though?" Your mother points at your picked plate, and you shrug. "I'll take it home. No big deal, I'm not exactly hungry. I could fall asleep right now, too." You shake your head, running your fingers through your sister's hair. Your mother nods, beckoning one of her waitstaff to wrap the plate up for you. His name is Hansol, and he carefully takes your plate and disappears with it.

Dinner continues for a few more hours, and you reach over to Chan and tug on his sleeve. He gives you a glance, concern in his eyes before you tap your wrist. He checks his watch, flashing it to you. Midnight. You wince, looking over to your father to see him glancing at his own watch. "Oh, man. It's really late, we should get going." He hisses, and your mother's eyes widen as she sees the time. "Shit, I told them we'd be out by eleven. Alright, up. Let's get going." Your father takes Rosie from your lap, and your mother carefully pulls her coat over the pink cast. You watch tentatively, ready to step in at any moment when you feel Chan's hand on your shoulder. Jumping slightly, you feel the soft fabric of your coat. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Arms, please." You don't look at him as he works around you, until Rosie is on your father's hip and Chan is wrapping your scarf around you. "You're distracted tonight. Everything okay?" Chan's voice is soft as he zips your coat up, his own already settled on his frame. "What did you and my dad talk about?" You blurt, and he raises a brow as he follows the four parents out of the room, who are still chattering about everything and anything. He scans your face, concern weighing heavy on his brows before he smiles. "I didn't ask him to marry you, if that's what you're worried about. That's further down the line." Seeing the way your shoulders settle, Chan loops his arm with yours. "Did you want me to ask him?" You don't respond, letting him lead you out of the restaurant. Your parents are all still talking as your father buckles Rosie into her carseat, her eyes opening slightly as you pass by. You wave at her, only for her eyes to close again. Smiling to yourself, you wait for your parents to acknowledge you and Chan waiting by the front of your father's SUV.

"Going for a drive?" Your mother asks gently, and you nod. "Home soon, don't worry." You hold your pinky out, only for your father to clasp it with his own. "Take your time. Drive safe."

Your eyes search your father for answers, and he only smiles. "See you at home, honey."

Nodding slowly, you and Chan bid your parents goodnight, your mother's eyes lingering as Chan walks you back to the car. You can feel your chest a bit tight as he opens your door, but give him a strained smile as he gets into the driver's seat.

"Alright, what's eating you? Besides me." He jokes lightly, pulling out of the parking lot. You see your parents' car already at the stoplight in the street, the light turning green just as Chan pulls into the street. "Nothing." "You're lying." He plugs his phone into the aux as the light turns red, a click of his tongue as he presses shuffle on yet another random playlist. The soft melody of Scared To Live by The Weekend pours out of your speakers as he takes the oh-so-familiar turn down the same road you've taken this drive on every year. It's scenic, it's always decked with Christmas lights and it leads you right to a random cliff that overlooks the entire city. You sigh as he holds his hand out for yours, interlacing your fingers and leaning back on the headrest. You recline your seat a bit, crossing your legs at the knee. He lets go of your hand and you cover your face with your arms, his fingers sliding up and down your exposed thigh.

"You can always talk to me, you know." He murmurs over the music, this time it's Fantasy by Bazzi. You nod silently, hearing a hum from him as he traces circles into your skin with his thumb. The drive is silent aside from the music, Chan's comfort seeping into your body via his hand and your shoulders losing their tension as he pulls into the deserted cliff. You'd found it years before you went to college, and enjoyed retreating there to get high together behind your parents' backs. You also exchanged one Christmas gift here every year, basking in the privacy and security of each other's warmth on the hood of whoever's car you took that time.

"So? What's going on?" He parks the car, lowering the music as he turns to look at you. You peek at him from beneath your arms, a pout on your lips. "Nothing, really. I'm good."

Chan moves your arms from your face, his fingers coming to poke at your cheeks with every word. 'You are such a bad liar, baby."

You groan, "It's stupid. It's so stupid because you're probably not going to have to deal with until you're in your fucking thirties but I've been dealing with it since I was in high school." Your pout makes Chan thumb at your lip, an understanding look in his eyes. "You mean that same conversation your parents keep having with you about having kids and getting married?" "Yes! Ugh, that's why I was so quiet at dinner. And why I was so pissy on the way here from campus. I do not want to have this fucking conversation again this year, especially when I don't even know what's going to happen when we leave." You fall back into your seat, feeling Chan's hand cup your knee. "I'm so sick of being asked the same shit, I'll get married when I get married and I'll have kids when I have kids. What about my career? No one but you and my dad ask about what I want to do after college. What if I want a master's degree? What if I want a doctorate?" Chan listens intently, his eyes flowing between worried and understanding. "Well, what if? Do you want to do that? What do you want to do after we graduate? Do you want to move back here, do you want to move somewhere else, do you want to pursue something more? Do you want to work full-time?" "What does it matter what I want? You want to get married, Chan." You sigh, and he shakes his head. "It matters because you're your own person, not an extension of me. I don't want to get married if you don't want to, and definitely not if we're not well established. Stable present makes for a stable future, and I want things to be just as easy as they always have been between you and me. You call my name, I come. If time is the issue, I'll wait. I waited my entire life before freshman year, and I've waited three years since then."

You peer up at him, "So you're serious about marrying me? You weren't kidding?" "Respectfully, I don't think you've ever sounded more insane than you do right now." He scoffs, sitting up and pulling you with him. Your lip is jutted out in a slight pout as you thumb the seam of your dress, Chan's fingers grazing your jaw as he makes you look at him. 

"I love you, Y/N. I'd wait an eternity for you, as long as you're happy. I want you to feel fulfilled, and I know that you're not going to if I try to tie you down with bullshit. Yes, I want to get married. Yes, I want to marry you. You've seen me through every stage of my life and as painful as it may have been for you because I've been an absolute douche, you stuck by me. I don't know how else to make you understand that you're important to me, and that includes embracing who you are as an individual. Even if you say no to anything I offer, the house, the ring, the kids, the fucking pursuit of happiness by my side…none of it matters as long as I know that you're happy with yourself." You don't realize you're crying until his thumbs wipe at your cheeks, his fingers tucking your hair behind your ears. "I love you, endlessly. I'll always be here, and I know maybe that's not what you need to hear to be comforted but I need you to know that." You sniffle slightly, "What if my mother pressures me enough that I make a rash decision? What if she manages to get to me just like she always has?" "She won't. Even if she did, I know you in ways she doesn't. I know every side of your heart, I know how kind and forgiving it can be and I know how cold and cruel it can be. I know you're strong and independent and you don't need me to ever speak up on your behalf, but if ever your voice is lost on you, I can. I have, and I will continue to do so. Your honor is mine, even if mine isn't yours."

You rest your forehead on his shoulder, wanting the conversation to end. "I forgot your gift at the house. I'm sorry." 

"That's alright. I still have yours, if you want to go sit while I get the blanket." He presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, allowing you to change the subject. "I feel bad, though." "Go sit for me." He nips at your ear, making you jolt as you shove him. He smirks as you scoff, wiping at your face carefully as you open the door and step out. You shudder as the cold hits your feet, but you hoist yourself onto the hood of your car as Chan pulls the thick blanket you brought from your apartment out of your trunk. The metal is still warm before you feel him kill the engine, the motor dying under you as he shuts the door, shoving your keys into his pocket. He drapes the blanket over your face as you feel him grab your ankle. Jolting, you push the blanket off, seeing a pair of socks clenched between his teeth as he undoes the strap of your shoe.

"Where the fuck did you find those?" You let him slide the black sock over your foot, and he shrugs. "Your cheer bag is still in the trunk. I know these are new, though, because I put them in there before we left for practice last week." He shrugs, slipping off the other shoe and putting the sock on, covering you with the blanket once more as he rounds the car to throw the shoes into the backseat. You stare at the clear sky as he slides onto the hood next to you, a soft sigh from his lips as you drape the blanket over his leg.

"I didn't ask your dad to marry you, I promise. I just talked to him about how I felt and what he thinks I should do." You hear him say softly, and you turn to see him looking at you already. Your brow raises, and he holds up a white box. It's from the jewelry store you found Rosie and Mrs. Lee in when you went to the mall, the silver logo stamped on the top. "He said I should be honest and tell you what I want, and listen to what you have to say. So, uhm…this is more for you and I than anyone else, but I…I understand if you don't want it." He pops it open, a slim gold band slotted into the cushion with a thicker one, presumably for him. The rings are studded with stones, emeralds and sapphires with smaller white diamonds scattered about. You look at him, a certain softness to your gaze that has only ever been present for him.

"A promise ring?" He shifts under your gaze, cheeks tinging pink as he sits up, sliding off the hood of the car. He paces slightly, "I know it's so…ugh, it's so high school. And we're not even together, and I'm willing to wait–" "I'm not." You interrupt, "I'm tired of waiting, Chan."

His eyes are wide as you shrug, holding your hand out for the box. "Can I see?" He hands it to you, your fingers pinching the delicate band and holding it up to your eyes. "Is this what you bought when you were fighting your mom at the register?" "It's also why your class ring went missing last month, but that's neither here nor there." He admits sheepishly, making you gape. "You took it! You little rat, I knew you had something to do with it."

"I needed it for the sizing! And I got it back! Do you…do you like it?" He asks shyly, resting his hands on either side of your legs as he leans closer to you. You nod, "I love it, it's beautiful. Good eye, I guess." "Can't you just give me a compliment without making it sound so forced?" He rolls his eyes as you replace the ring, holding the box in your hand. You shake your head, "I'll have a lifetime to do that. Do I get to put yours on for you?" "You're taking it? You're saying yes, I mean?" His eyes are wide as he scans your face, and you scoff. "Obviously? We still have a lot of growing to do, but I don't take the steps to make a decision unless I know it's the right thing to do. You know that." "Including breaking up with me on my birthday?" "Including saying yes when you ask me to be your girlfriend in about two minutes. I should make you wait, but I'm impatient." He rolls his eyes, leaning slightly closer. You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his, feeling your cheeks heat as he brushes his lips to yours. "I love you." "You're right, I do deflect a lot." He laughs, peppering kisses around your face as you scrunch your nose. "Be my girlfriend, please. I'd be nothing of a man without you." "I mean, I guess if you want me that bad–" "Respond properly or I'm taking your socks off." "Yes, I'll be your girlfriend." You roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to his lips. He kisses you back softly, his hands moving to hold your face carefully. "You know the ring means you'll also say yes to being my fiancée and then my wife, right?" He speaks against your lips, kissing you between words. "Mhm." You hum in response, before taking the thicker ring out of the box in your hand. "Let me put this on you. You can't take it off, like, ever."

"Wait, you first." He pulls away, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it into his coat pocket. He takes your hand in his carefully, "I think I'm gonna cry." "That's okay. I've seen you cry before. I've seen you throw up and I still think you're a pretty okay guy." You joke to ease him, noting the way his fingers tremble slightly as they slide the ring down your finger. It fits snugly, and he runs his thumb over it a few times before looking up at you. "Are you sure?" "Are you?" You hold up his ring, and he nods slowly. "If I'm not sure of anything else in this life, I have the comfort of knowing I'll always be sure of you." "When did you become so profound?" You tease, slipping the ring down his finger. He scoffs, "What part of you deflect and I don't did you forget? I've always been this way! You've just gotten good at ignoring me because you don't like to admit my compliments make you feel some type of way." "You just make me nervous." You confess quietly, tugging on the lapel of his coat. "You think you don't make me nervous? I can't talk to you sometimes without getting my tongue twisted."

"Your tongue does better things than talk, Chan." "I thought we were having a wholesome moment here." He flicks your forehead, your hand moving up to swat his hand away. He grabs it midair, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. "Are we still keeping this under wraps?" Your eyes widen, "Shit, are we?" "I mean…my mom knows I got these." He winces, and you click your tongue. "Your mom also told me you're a crybaby who called her and said I broke your heart."

"I may be a crybaby but at least I can tell someone when I love them." He scoffs, making you furrow your brows. "You wanna play that game? Because I have so much shit from Soonyoung and Mingyu, too." "Tell me you love me!" He whines, and you roll your eyes. "I'm your girlfriend, not your puppet. I'll tell you when I'm good and damn ready." "Great, I'm ending the year with a girlfriend that hates me." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sucking his teeth. "I did this to myself." "If you get me out of the cold within the next twenty seconds, I'll let you go down on me when we get home." You offer, before a shriek rips through you as he throws you over his shoulder. 

"As you wish, girlfriend."

DECEMBER 31, 9:42PM.

Chan in fact, did go down on you when you got home. Twice on your bed without even taking your dress off, and once in the shower. Your legs could barely hold you up, but that doesn't really matter when your boyfriend forgets his own strength while pinning you against the bath tile.

Christmas Day was rather uneventful aside from unwrapping gifts, with Rosie screaming excitedly about the extensive sets of Legos and Barbie dolls you and Chan got for her. Your parents gifted you and Chan a vacation to Bali, set for after your graduation, as well as a new pair of earrings. The Lees gave you a rush of nostalgia as they gave you yet another locket, this one with a picture of you and Chan as babies.

Chan watched the exchanges quietly, and the night concluded with you and him falling asleep watching a movie in your bed. His parents never did make him move to his bedroom after Mingyu and Soonyoung left, and your parents didn't mind him staying so long as you were fine with it. You still didn't fuck him, but he was perfectly content with waiting – so long as you didn't mind his tongue between your thighs in the middle of the night or at the crack of dawn. You spent the next few days simply existing within your families. You got your nails done with Mrs. Lee, and took Rosie along with you. Rosie got her cast off and cried when the physician cut through your signature, tears only stopped by a scoop of chocolate almond ice cream on a waffle cone. You spent a bit of time with your mother at the restaurant, tasting a few of her new recipes and coming home to sleep in Chan's arms with a stomach ache from all the food. Per usual, Chan continued his whispered sweet nothings and you shied away from him often, only for him to pull you back into his embrace and kiss you until you couldn't breathe, followed by murmurs of I love you. 

The days were quiet, and your families were slowly growing used to having you and Chan around – something that always backfired on them, because the two of you usually left a day or two after ringing in the New Year together. It helped you beat the traffic back, and it helped you decompress from spending so much time with Chan.

Not that you'd need to do that this time…because, well. You know.

"Do I look okay?" You ask your mother for the billionth time, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. She rolls her eyes as she sprays a bit of perfume in the middle of your back, making you flinch at the sensation. "You look lovely, darling. Please, get a grip! This is just the same people we've rung the New Year in with every year. Nothing new, nothing to be nervous about."

Your mother sprays perfume on her wrists, before dabbing them on her neck. "Go downstairs, check on Rosie. I'm going to be so upset if your father let her have anything that could stain that dress, it was too expensive to ruin." You sigh shakily, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror your mother had in her bedroom. Your dress was black and glittery, ending at your mid-thigh with an open back that left little to the imagination as it stopped just at the dip of your spine. It had straps that sat off your shoulders with a low-cut neckline, and you only wore a necklace that Chan had bought to play off the rings he'd gotten you. It sat nicely at the base of your throat, the only gift he gave you in front of your parents.

"Y/N!" Rosie called from the bottom of the stairs as you reached the first one, and you smiled down at her as you made your way down. "Babycakes! You look so pretty in your dress!"

"Thank you!" She beams up at you, holding a pink lollipop in her hand. Your father is sitting on the couch, eyes closed as you walk up behind him. "Catching up on sleep, old man?" "You know it. I love having you kids here, but I'm exhausted from all the socializing. I only have so many things to say." He sighs, and you snort. "Don't worry, just a few more days. Chan and I are leaving on the third, I think."

It's not long before your mother comes downstairs, her dress a sparkly burgundy this year. Her lipstick matches it, and your father presses a kiss to her temple as he helps her tug her coat on. Rosie is settled on your hip, her head resting on your shoulder as the four of you walk over to the Lees, and you already regret the thin coat you chose to layer over your dress. You shiver as you walk up the steps to the porch, Rosie fighting sleep as you bounce her around.

"Don't sleep, Rosie! It's just a little party!" You wiggle her around, her giggle tired as your mother knocks on the front door. Chan appears as he throws it open, ushering everyone inside. His eyes meet yours, widening at the necklace sitting on your skin. You feel your cheeks heat as you walk past him, setting Rosie down and tugging her coat off as he closes the door. You lower to her height, "Don't fall asleep, okay? You feel sleepy, come find me." You tap her cheeks, and she nods as she trails off to find your mother, who is greeting Mrs. Lee with the bottle of wine you brought over. Chan helps you stand upright, a soft smile on his face as he pulls you into a hug. "I haven't seen you since this morning. I missed you, gorgeous." He mumbles into your ear, and you roll your eyes as you weasel out of his embrace. "You always miss me. I'm literally across the lawn." You tug your scarf off, and he takes it, his hand awaiting for your coat. "What did your dad make this year?" You nod in the direction of the kitchen, the rich smell of lemongrass and garlic filling the house. He opens his mouth to respond, only for his words to get caught in his throat as you slide your coat off, his eyes landing on the expanse of your back. It's speckled with glitter, courtesy of your mother, and you swing your hair behind you as you hand him your coat.

"What? Are you okay?" Your voice is concerned as you glance at him, your hands moving to smooth the front of your dress. He blinks, before his mother's voice cuts through the air. "Y/N! Oh my, let me see your dress! Give me a spin!" She sets her wine glass down on the table, and you give her a warm hug before she spins you around. "You look stunning! Come, we have to take your picture." You give Chan a glance over your shoulder, his ears red as he snaps out of his daze, hanging your coat on the door as Mrs. Lee pulls you into the living room with your parents. She poses you all in front of her Christmas tree, before it's just you and Rosie. Rosie yawns as Mrs. Lee takes the photo, and you tell her it's best to just let the kid take a nap. "You can put her down in the guest bedroom, but can I get a picture with you and Channie first?" She nods, and you open your mouth to protest but she calls him over before you can say anything. He looks a bit bewildered as he walks over, clearing his throat as he stands next to you. You feel an awkward air floating off of him as he makes no move to touch you, and Mrs. Lee huffs. You quickly wrap his arm around your waist like you did on Christmas Eve, expecting his hand to fall in the same low spot on your hip – but you feel it ghosting over your back as you resume the same position. You don't say anything, just smiling as Mrs. Lee snaps your photo. She thanks you, turning away with the permission to drop Rosie in the guest bedroom.

"Wanna tell me what your problem is?" You mutter to Chan, who sucks his teeth. "Wanna tell me why you wore this dress?" "Oh, so I'm the problem? Good to know." You grit, before you pick Rosie up off the couch, hoisting her over your shoulder as you make your way to the guest bedroom. Chan follows closely behind you without you realizing, and is leaning in the door frame as you tuck Rosie into the bed, carefully covering her with the blanket so as to not be blamed for creases in her dress. You kiss her forehead, walking out of the bedroom only to bump into Chan, who grabs your arm and pulls you into his bedroom with a quick tug. "Bro." You're frustrated, pinching the bridge of your nose as you pull your arm out of his grasp, only for him to pull you into him by your waist. "Don't call me bro, I literally made you cum on my tongue this morning." He scoffs, his grip is bruising against your skin. "Who's the insatiable one now? Over a dress? Really?" You roll your eyes, but it seems your boyfriend has no time for your goading as he pushes you against his door, lips pressed against yours in a searing kiss. You melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he slides his hands down your back. He pulls away with a nip to your lip, leaving you to pout as you chase after him. "Not just a dress, you in this fucking dress. What were you thinking?" "Wanted you to see me in it." You confess quietly, your eyes glued to his lips, now slightly stained with your red lipstick. He sighs, "Don't act cute. I can't be mad when you do that." "Don't be mad at me. Don't you think I look pretty?" Your eyes feign innocence, blinking up at him as he groans in lust-fueled frustration. "Not mad at you, baby. Never mad at you." He rests his forehead against yours, "I want you so fucking bad, it's pathetic." "Have me." You murmur, nosing at him as he shakes his head. "I can't, not right now. Certainly not in my parents' house." "Oh, but when it's my parents' house, it's fine??" You snort, making him laugh softly, brushing a kiss against your lips. "For old time's sake, I'll say yes. Keeping up with traditions and whatnot."

"They're gonna wonder where we are." You sigh, before feeling his hands travel further south. You swat them away, "If you're not gonna fuck me, you can't feel me up and leave me all needy. It's not fair." "I like it when you're needy." He kisses your jaw, and you scowl, pinching his nipple through his shirt. Of course, the rat bastard only leans into your touch, eliciting soft whine from his throat. "You're such a fucking freak!"

"You're literally the reason I'm this way. You're the blueprint." He rolls his eyes, before he turns you over, pushing your chest against the door as he presses his hips into you. Your eyes flutter shut, a soft sigh falling from your lips as he grinds against you. His fingers toy with the hem of your dress, shoving it up slightly when you hear a gasp from his lips.

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me." 

He moves away entirely, and you feel him sink to his knees behind you. He pushes your dress up, the fabric bunching around your hips to expose your bare ass. You'd forgone underwear in hopes of things going this direction tonight, but certainly not this early in the night. But by all means, you're willing to let bygones be bygones as long as Chan keeps touching you.

You can almost hear his internal battle as he pushes you forward a bit, spreading your thighs with his hands. "You're gonna kill me one day, aren't you? In cold blood. I'll be dead because you can't behave." He's fighting himself as you glance over your shoulder, a look feigning disinterest on your face as you shrug. "Take it or leave it."

He chooses to leave it, but not before sinking his teeth into your thigh, pinning your arm to your back when you reach to swat at him. "Chan!" "Shut up, they'll hear you." He rolls his eyes as he stands, using his free hand to massage the bitten area. "You can wait, right? It's only two hours." "I don't want to." You pout, pushing back against him. He lands a quick slap to the meat of your ass, your cheeks flushed as he whispers in your ear. "You're gonna have to, baby. Be a good girl for me, yeah?"

You huff, squirming against him when you feel his hand slip between your thighs. His fingertips drag slowly through your wet folds, just barely breaching your entrance when he pulls them away. "Open your mouth."

You turn to see him licking his fingers clean, your heart beating wildly in your chest as he repeats himself. "Open. Don't make me do it for you."

"Kiss me first." He does as you ask, tugging the fabric of your dress back down as he snakes his tongue into your mouth. Your hands fist at the lapels of his suit jacket, whining into his mouth before he pulls away. Your lips jut out in a pout, a soft chuckle from Chan before he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Open up." You do as you're told, sticking your tongue out for him to spit onto. Your eyes flutter shut the moment you feel it, his hand on your jaw pulling you forward to kiss him. Your legs feel like jelly at his touch, feeling him mumble those three little words against your lips.

"I love you. Don't act up and I won't, either." He holds his pinky out, and you reluctantly link yours with it. He wipes the corners of your lips, "Go. I have to…calm down."

"Tell me you love me again." You look up at him, making him roll his eyes as he bites back a smile. "If I tell you again, will you get out?" "Maybe." You smile back, making him physically turn you, his hands on your shoulders as you turn the doorknob to his room. "I love you, baby. Now, go." You slink out of his bedroom, shutting the door behind you as you slip into the bathroom. Your skin feels hot as you look in the mirror, your lipstick only slightly smudged – a blessing, truly. You pat your fingers over your swollen lips, before checking the hem of your dress. You tug it lower, making sure it covers everything before ruffling your hair and taking a deep breath.

Two hours. Easy.

Not easy.

It's been an hour and forty-five minutes, and you can feel your patience wearing thin as Chan acts like nothing happened.

He's standing across the room, talking to your mother with a soft smile on his face – just like he has been for the last thirty minutes. His wine is the same color as her dress, listening to her drone on and on about the benefits of turmeric in cooking as well as body products. Your cheek is resting on the heel of your palm, your other hand holding your second flute of champagne as you stare at your boyfriend without a care in the world – when you see a little head start floating your way, a frumpled blue dress catching your eye.

"Y/N?" She calls tiredly, rubbing her eyes as she looks around for you. "Babycakes! I'm over here, come sit with me!" You pat your lap, setting your champagne on the table as she makes her way over to you. She climbs into your lap and you smooth her hair down as she rests her head on your shoulder.

"How was your nap? Any good dreams?" You ask, twirling a piece of her hair in your fingers. She shakes her head, "No dreams. Just sleep." She shrugs, yawning as she buries her face into your neck. You wrap your arms around her, rocking back and forth and humming quietly.

It's not even five minutes when she falls limp with sleep in your arms, and you rest your cheek atop her head as Mrs. Lee makes way to you, her silver dress stunning as she extends her hands. "Do me a favor, honey. Go steal Chan from your mother, we're going to start the countdown soon and I'm sure you want to spend a few moments with him.” Her eyes twinkle like she knows something, taking Rosie from your lap. You nod sheepishly, standing up and tugging your dress down slightly. You grab your flute of champagne, smiling inwardly as you make your way across the living room to Chan's side. You squeeze your mother's shoulder lightly to get her attention, her voice stopping in the middle of a rosemary and thyme soap recipe she's reciting. "Yes, darling?" "Rosie's up. Might wanna check on her, I can't gauge if she'll sleep tonight." You wince, and your mother nods, putting her wine glass down on the coffee table. She walks away, your father joining her in the kitchen when you feel Chan's hand on your lower back. "Hey." He pulls you into his side, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. You try not to lean into the touch, a soft smile on your lips. "Hey. Tired?" "Exhausted, actually. I do not want to be here right now." He sighs, and you open your mouth to reply when you see Mr. Lee turn the television on to the New Year's Eve countdown from the Lotte World Tower. You smile to yourself as Chan shuffles you both behind the couch, his hand keeping skin-on-skin contact the entire time. You miss the glance your father gives you as you lean your head on Chan's shoulder, the way Chan's fingers run up and down your side.

You miss the way your mother joins him in looking at the two of you, the way Chan's looks at you adoringly. The way your arm wraps around his waist, and your fingers trace circles into his side, the glint of the ring he gave you mocking her in the light. Your mother gives your father a look, one that screams is that what I think it is? Your father only shrugs, draping his own arm around her shoulders and making her face the television. The reporter is excitedly moving around the prepared stage, talking a mile a minute about all the musical achievements by artists in a rapid fire attempt to fill the last two minutes to the countdown. Mrs. Lee slots her fingers with her husband, and you find yourself finding Rosie's sleepy eyes on your father's shoulder. She smiles, giving you a thumbs up and you scrunch your nose at her, giving one back. She points at Chan, and you tap him to get his attention for her. He looks up, meeting her eyes and receiving the same reaction. He gives her one back, and she closes her eyes, turning the other way.

"She's adorable." He murmurs as you look up at him, "She is." The reporter smiles widely as the large number 10 splays on the television. Your parents break into chatter, Chan's parents drifting over to yours slowly. You tug at Chan's sleeve, earning a hum as he looks at you once more.

"Do you ever think about what our kids will look like?" You whisper, and he nods. "Sometimes." 9…

"Do you have names?" "A few."

8…

"Do you think about our wedding?" "All the time. I'm going to cry like a fucking baby." 7…

"How do you feel about a summer wedding?" "Whatever you want, baby. I'd get married in the woods if you wanted." 6…

"Like in Breaking Dawn?" "That wedding was beautiful. I cried, remember?" 5…

"I do. You cry a lot, you know?" "Emotional vulnerability is sexy, is it not?"

4…

"You think so?" "I know so." 3…

"Hey, Chan?" "Yes, Y/N?" 2…

"Are you gonna kiss me?" "Yeah, babe. I'm gonna kiss you." 1…

"I love you." You mumble, pressing your lips to his as the reporter boasts a Happy New Year from Lotte World Tower!

His hand is low on your back as he kisses you deeply, your own holding his cheek as your parents cheer and congratulate each other. You hear a soft voice above it all, "Channie and Y/N are kissing."

You pull back from Chan to see your parents gaping at you, and Rosie smiling before she lays her cheek back on your father's shoulder. "I told you they were boyfriend and girlfriend. You owe me fifty bucks, Mommy."

You gawk at her, Chan coughing awkwardly as your mother covers her face. "You bet on us?" "I assume the two of you managed to talk things out." Your father's voice is level, a warm smile on his face as Chan clears his throat. "Yes, sir." "And everything is okay…now?" Mr. Lee chimes in, your face growing warm as you nod, "Yes, sir." "And you're…together? Officially?" Mrs. Lee asks calmly, a grin fighting its way onto her lips as you and Chan flush embarrassedly. "Yes." You say in unison, and Mrs. Lee smiles from ear to ear, holding her hand out to your mother.

"You owe me a hundred bucks." "Wanna take a drive? I don't want to see money exchange hands." Chan scoffs, and the parents start arguing within themselves – mostly your mother defending herself and your father rolling his eyes as he fishes his wallet out, eager to pay your mother's debts.

"We're outta here." You announce, grabbing your coat off the rack. Your father gives you a nod, "We'll be here a while, it seems. Be safe, honey."

You nod, placing a kiss on Rosie's head before you leave. "Thanks, babycakes." "You're welcome, sissy." She smiles tiredly, closing her eyes as you ruffle her hair. You slip out, Chan closing the door behind you as you tug your coat on. "We're not actually going on a drive, you know that, right?" His gaze is pointed, and you roll your eyes as you pull him off his porch, the cold winter air nothing in comparison to the heat on your skin as you fumble for your keys. He keeps his hands off you as you both make your way to your house, your fingers trembling in excitement as you stick the key in the lock and turn it. You push the door open carefully, and he slides in behind you, shutting it with his foot and locking it behind him.

You peel your coat off, handing it to him to hang on the rack by the door. He's oddly quiet as he does the same, before silently taking your hand and leading you to your bedroom. He lets you walk in first, locking the door behind him as you step out of your heels.

You feel his hands on your bare waist, pulling your back to him as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. You close your eyes, feeling his lips trail up your shoulder, before his teeth tug on the necklace he gave you. "Can we keep this on?" "Yeah."

He hums softly, pressing a kiss behind your ear. His hands move to your arms, "Can we take this off? Is that okay?" You nod silently, letting him slip the straps of your dress down your arms, the fabric pooling around your hips as he sighs, keeping his hands on your sides as he trails open-mouthed kisses down your spine, breathing you in like you're the only oxygen he knows. His teeth tug at the hem of your dress, pulling it over the swell of your ass with ease. The flimsy fabric falls to your feet, his teeth nipping at your hip before you feel him stand, his hands on your waist turning you around.

"I love you." He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed as yours open. You look at him in the moonlight, every eyelash, every tired line, everything that is the Lee Chan you love illuminated before you. Your hands move to his shirt, "Is this where I say it, too?" Your comment makes him smile inwardly, "If you'd like. I heard you, when you kissed me. You don't have to, I know you do." You feel so vulnerable under him like this, but you know him. You know he's just as vulnerable as you are, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and untucking it from his belt. Your voice feels lost, but you clear your throat as you push his shirt down over his shoulders, revealing toned arms and the same muscular chest you loved to lay your head upon on sleepless nights.

"I love you, endlessly." You say softly, your eyes flickering up to meet his gaze. He nods silently, pressing a kiss to your forehead as your hands move to his belt, carefully tugging the leather strap from the silver buckle. You pull it through the loops, letting it fall to the ground as Chan's hands come to your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently as your hands unbutton his slacks, carefully tugging the zipper down as you brush a kiss to his jaw. 

He stops you from pushing his pants down, his lips finding yours with a gentle insanity one can only describe as love. He swipes your hair back over your shoulders as he lets your hands rest on his waist, his lips pouring every single word into your mouth with a passion you'd only ever felt with him. This is the kiss you missed for three years, the soft grip of his hand in your hair as he guides his tongue against yours fluidly. This is the man you longed for unknowingly for your entire life, so loving and soft and sensual as he sucks on your tongue with a quiet moan. 

This is the love you'd patiently waited to return to you, the way you felt the cool metal of his matching ring against the warm skin of your thigh as he picked you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms draped over his shoulders. This is the love you'd wantonly waited for, the way he eased you onto your bed, not letting you untangle yourself from him as he continued to kiss you so agonizingly slow, you could feel your arousal slightly soak into the waistband of his slacks. 

This is the love you'd yearned for, where he remembers every single one of your buttons. How he doesn't stop kissing you because he knows you love the feeling of his lips against yours, the way his hand only slides from your thigh to your dripping core because he knows you hate when he's not touching you constantly. How he steadies himself above you by pinning one hand above your head, interlacing your fingers as his other hand spreads your thighs for him.

"I love you." He whispers against your lips, not giving you a chance to respond as he carefully glides two of his fingers through your slick folds, earning a shiver as he traces your clit slowly. You mewl in his ear, his skin prickling with goosebumps at how wet you are for him. He presses a kiss to your jaw, "My gorgeous girl. So perfect for me." You bite back a whimper as his hand lands a rather wet slap to your clit, your body jolting into his as he chuckles. "Still like that?" He does it again, your thighs flinching around his hips as a broken moan leaves you.

He kisses your lips, swallowing any sounds you could've let out as he stops teasing you, his fingers carefully curling into your entrance. You shudder against him, a high-pitched whine from you making him laugh against your mouth. "Feel good, baby?" His thumb circles your clit as his fingers scissor you open, the pads of his digits brushing that spongy spot inside you that makes your breathing shaky. Your walls are impossibly tight around his fingers and it makes him dizzy, feeling you clench around his hand every time he reaches that spot he knows can make you cum within minutes. "Faster, please…" You run your hand through his hair, pulling him back down to your lips. He kisses you messily, bullying his fingers into you faster and feeling you pant yes, just like that softly against his lips. "Just like that? Like it fast, baby?" He mocks you, loving the way you nod dumbly. "Love it, love you, Channie.." Your eyes are teary as he brings you to the edge, his stomach fluttering at your soft whines. You made him feel like he was on fire, overstimulating his every sense with your whimpered begging for more as he nipped at your chest, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he mimics you, "Yeah, love me? How much, princess?"

"So m-much, think about you all day. Want you all the time, f-fuck…" Your thighs tighten around his hips, "Want me all the time? You're so cute. So needy for me, huh?"

You can only nod, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes as your nails dig into his shoulder, a tell-tale sign you're going to cum if he keeps going. He pulls a guttural moan from you, his favorite of them all as you coat his hand and wrist with your orgasm. "That's it, baby. Let go for me." He works you through it, your thighs trembling just like the first night the two of you slept together, your moans becoming nothing but soft whines against his lips.

"S'too much, too much.." You push his hand away with a whimper, your eyes barely open as you watch him lick his fingers clean like he did earlier. You shift under him, blinking your eyes as wide as you can, watching the way his tongue slid between his fingers. "See something you like?" He purrs against your lips, his wet fingers flicking your lower lip as you nod your head.

"You." Your voice is soft, and you see his eyes soften slightly as he smiles shyly. You wrap your legs around him, running a hand through his hair again, tugging slightly. "Want you." "You have me, baby." He kisses you chastely, relishing in the way you chase after his lips, huffing. "Kiss me like you mean it." You pull him closer, nipping at his lower lip with your teeth as he connects your mouths. The kiss is wet and messy, and you can feel him rolling his hips into you, the tip of his clothed cock rutting against your clit deliciously. But, you want it off.

"Take your pants off. Wanna feel you." You bite at his lips, and he moans, rutting against you like he can't stop. You whimper, your hips moving in tandem with his as you reach down and snap his waistband against his skin. "Fuck." Chan breathes against your jaw, shoving his pants and underwear down with one hand before he lets go of your hand, pulling them off fully with a hiss. He moves back up to kiss you, your nails digging into his back as you hold him close, your legs tight around his hips as he grinds his heavy cock against your wet heat. You're messy but that's how he likes it – your thighs twitch with overstimulation as he ruts his cock against you, leaning up to watch the way he leaks beads of precum onto your skin. "So fucking pretty." His thumb finds your clit, smirking at the way your thighs close slightly.

"So wet, too. Messy, messy girl." He grunts in your ear, "Can I put it in? Can you take it?"

"Please." You breathe out, making him meet your eyes. "Please what, baby?"

You scoff at his teasing smile, but you don't miss the adoration in his eyes as he plants a kiss to your lips. "Use your words."

You don't respond as you pout slightly, his lips brushing against yours. Your eyes are shy as he tries to find your gaze, a hiss from behind his teeth as your fingers reach between you to wrap around his shaft, his hands fisting the sheets around your head as you align him with your entrance.

"Please? Want you." Your eyes are wide and watery, too much for him to handle. 

He caves, moving your hand out of the way to sink into you –  his tip barely breaching your walls when you hear a whimper from Chan, his eyes glued to your glistening folds. Your head falls back with a groan as he slides in deeper, a whispered chant of fuck, fuck, fuck from his lips as you clench around him. You whine, digging your nails into his bicep as you push his hips down the rest of the way with your legs, hearing him groan at the way you swallow him perfectly.

"D-Don't, don't move. Just…wait." Your eyes are screwed shut, Chan's running all over your body. A singular bead of sweat runs down your neck, his fingers instinctively reaching to wipe it. You lean into his touch, your eyes still closed as you take his hand in yours, kissing his fingertips. "I love you." "I love you too, baby." He murmurs, and you shake your head as you lean your forehead to his, holding his hand to your chest. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, "This is how I feel every time I see you. There has never been a minute of my life that I haven't been so pathetically in love with you." He doesn't respond, his eyes glazed with unshed tears as yours open. You blink at him silently, your arms moving to wrap around his neck as you press a kiss to his nose, then his cheeks. "Obsessed with you." You mumble against his skin, feeling his hands wrap around your thighs with a shaky breath. "Missed you, my baby." Your admission is followed by a kiss to his lips, Chan's eyes fluttering shut as you drag your lips down his jaw. "I missed you, my love." He whispers in your ear, the pet name one he only used during your relationship. His teeth graze on your earlobe, before he plants a kiss on your neck as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him to your lips. You slot your lips with his carefully, swallowing a whimper as you feel his hands push your thighs apart more. 

"Ready? Want me to go slow?" His voice is shaky, making you run a hand through his hair. "Whatever you want, baby."

He nods, giving an experimental roll of his hips – his chest swelling with pride as your eyes roll back with a soft groan. You let him set the pace, the delicious drag of his cock making your hands fist the sheets as your head falls back against the mattress. His fingers are bruising around your thighs, his eyes glued to your face, biting back his moans as you whine pathetically.

"Feel good?" He murmurs as he thrusts into you a little harder, before letting go of your thighs and pinning your hand above your head, interlacing your fingers. Your eyes are closed and you can barely feel your head nodding as your limbs buzz with lust, a moan meeting his neck as you mouth at it. "Need words, baby." He leans to nip at your lips, feeling your other hand tug at his hair. "Feels s'good, daddy, fuck.." Your voice is no higher than a whisper, and Chan swears his brain short-circuits as he buries his face in your neck. He feels dizzy as he breathes in your perfume, hearing you whimper as he bullies his cock into you faster. 

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He groans, his teeth biting at any surface of your skin as he grips your hips bruisingly. "Missed you so much, baby. W-Wanna fill you up, shit. Make you mine f-forever." His ramblings are only slightly incoherent, your cheeks warming as if you're not both naked right now, the only thing remaining is your jewelry – all of which he's given you.

"Y-Yeah? Want it, want you to fill me up..." You rasp, tightening your legs around his waist as he whimpers loudly. Your fingers rake through his hair, pulling his head away from your neck and meeting his eyes. They're full of a certain craze you've only ever seen during your relationship, a dark look of lust that swirls from the depths of the brown in his irises that makes you shiver as you press your lips to his. It's messy and rough, his hand circling the base of your neck to steady himself. Your own wrap around his wrist, sliding your tongue into his mouth with practised ease. 

He sucks on your tongue messily, whining as you clamp down around him. You feel his hand loosen around your neck, sliding up to cup your face softly, your own moving to his back. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he thrusts into you, the tip of his cock brushing you just right that you moan into his mouth.

"Right there? There?" He pulls back, pistoning his hips into you as you nod frantically, your eyes filling with tears as your nails drag down his back. He tries not to close his eyes at the sensation, loving the way you bite down on your lip when his thumb pulls it out from under your teeth. "Wanna hear you, baby. Wanna know who's making you feel good." 

You can hardly speak through your whines, his vision going blurry as your nails dig into his hips. His lips find the shell of your ear, "Come on, baby. Tell daddy who's making you this wet." Your cheeks heat as you whimper into his skin, your lower lip dragging against his sweatslick cheek. You tug at the small silver hoop in his ear, "Y-You are. Always m-make me feel s'good, daddy. W-Wanna cum for you..." You trail off as his teeth nip at your neck, your voice reduced to breathy whines as he bites down on your chest. His tongue quickly licks over the indents of his teeth, as his hands move to your thighs, pushing them apart as he towers over you. Your eyes open only enough to see the wad of spit drip from his lips, your hips jolting as it slides down your clit. 

"Don't need it. Just like seeing you squirm, baby." He murmurs, pushing your knees to your chest as he continues to fuck into you. Your eyes fall on the ruddy blush on his cheeks, his own glued to the way your cunt swallows him perfectly. His fingers tighten around your legs, his lip tucked under his teeth as he screws his eyes shut, but you can't stop looking at him. The slope of his neck, littered with nips from your teeth that'll disappear by morning. His broad shoulders, slick with sweat and covered in deep, red marks from your nails. His chest, littered with faded love bites from the past few mornings waking up by his side. His forearms, flexing with every push of his hips, similar to the way they do when he holds you up against the shower wall. The sheen of your arousal on his fingers, the gold ring on his left hand that matches yours covered in a mix of spit and your cum. It's overwhelming, the way your insides feel fuzzy and the way your vision zeroes in on his ring, the glint in the moonlight mocking you.

"I can't wait to marry you." You mumble, covering your face with your arms as Chan jerks to a stop. You can still see him through a crevice in your arms, and you watch the way he swallows carefully. "W-What?" "I said, I can't wait to marry you." You repeat slightly louder, your eyes widening as you feel him twitch inside you. He scoffs quietly, "Babe, you can't say that." His eyes close, and you hear him take a deep breath as you sit up on your elbows.

"Why? I want to marry you." You huff, your mouth opening to say more when a sudden thrust from Chan's hips knocks the wind out of you. His whimper fills the room as he spreads your thighs out of habit, "I w-won't last if you say t-that." 

You can barely speak with the way he's drilling his cock into you, his thumb working tight circles into your clit as your head falls back against the sheets with pleasure. You manage to string your words together, your stomach filling with that familiar heat as you speak, "W-We have the rest of o-our lives, b-baby…" He whines loudly as his hips are flush to yours, shuddering slightly as he fills you with his release. He has a pout on his lips as he overstimulates himself through his orgasm, leaning into your soft whines, brushing his lips against yours. "I love you." He whispers as you clench around him, the band in your lower belly snapping as you whine pitifully as his hand slides in yours.

The air around you settles, Chan reaching to brush your hair out of your eyes and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you, baby." You nod loosely, a mumble of I love you tumbling against his clavicle. You feel him pull out slowly, a hiss from the both of you filling the silence. Wincing lightly, you go to sit up but his hand on your chest stops you. "Lie down." You don't question him as he slides one of your pillows under your head – but your brows are furrowed as he kisses down your body, sinking to his knees as he reaches the edge of your bed. You sit up slightly, "Chan, are you–" He doesn't reply, looking you in the eyes as he flattens his tongue against your sloppy cunt. Your eyes widen as he looks away, his arms wrapping around your thighs carefully. You're far too sensitive for this, but you can't seem to look away as he sucks your clit between his pouty lips. "You're fucking f-filthy, Lee Chan." "Open your mouth." He shrugs as he speaks into your skin, and you scoff out a laugh. He raises a brow as he looks up at you, making your cheeks flush. You sit up on your elbows, his arms pulling you closer to his face before fucking the wet muscle of his tongue into your spent hole. Your gasp is almost unnoticeable, your eyes starry as you watch him collect the mix of your releases in his mouth.

Your thighs tremble in his hands, your mind fuzzy with overstimulation as you whine softly. He pulls away, rising off his knees and sliding his thigh between yours as his hand finds your cheek. You instinctively open your mouth as he looks into your eyes, his thumb pulling at your lower lip as he spits his release onto your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut at the taste, feeling him snake his tongue into your mouth in a wet kiss. He pushes you back against the pillow slowly, his hand moving from your cheek to interlace your fingers as his lips trail down your jaw.

"I think your parents are home." He murmurs, and you try your best to zero in on any sounds that could allude to such. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, "Do you want to stop?"

You don't respond, hearing the jingle of the doorknob as Chan tugs on your earlobe with his teeth. You cover your mouth as a breathy moan slips out, feeling Chan smile against your skin. "We can stop, baby." You shake your head frantically as you hear your mother sigh and the creak of the stairs under their footsteps. Your father's footsteps are heavy behind your mother's light ones, and you hear the door to their bedroom open, the hinges desperately in need of an oiling. It closes, and you breathe out carefully.

"I have so many questions but I can ask them later. Can you go again?" You mutter, feeling him scoff against your skin. "Is that how you're going to ask me?" "I can always just ride you until you cry like I did in the back of your car three years ago." You huff, feeling Chan pinch your hip. "Can you even hold yourself up?" He smirks down at you, making you furrow your brows.

"Watch me." "I intend to."

JANUARY 1, 5:44AM.

The only reason you and Chan stop is because he's made you soak through your sheets twice, the edge of your bed sopping wet as he carefully carries you into the bathroom. How he's even able to stand up is beyond you, your legs loosely wrapped around his bare waist as he leans to turn the water on in your shower.

You wince as he sets you down on the edge of the tub, his fingers expertly releasing the clasp on your necklace and draping it on your bathroom counter. "Don't want it to snag in your hair." He murmurs as he helps you back up, your legs hardly functioning as he makes you step into the tub. The hot water feels great against your hips, your lips parting against Chan's chest in a soft groan as he holds you to him. He laughs softly, and you feel the pads of his fingers digging into the sore muscles. "I'm sorry, baby. Maybe that last position was too much, hm?" "Fuck all the way off." You mutter, resting your cheek on his chest as he coos at you. "How's that for three ways to Sunday?" "Great. It was great, wonderful. If fucking someone three ways to Sunday was an Olympic sport, you'd win gold every time." You confess quietly, your eyes barely open as you hear him pop the cap of your shampoo. "You know, you talk a lot when we have sex." "Mmh, do I? What did I say?" You feel his fingers card through your hair, making him snicker. "For one, I think you're the one with the daddy thing. You said it more than once and I'm honestly a little impressed with your commitment to the bit…if it is a bit." "Shut up. Wash my hair like a good boyfriend." Your cheeks grow hot as he laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to your hairline. "You also asked me when I'd marry you, and that you'd marry me tonight if you could." "When?" Your head snaps up to look at him, and he shrugs, a teasing smile on his lips. "If I recall correctly, you were face down–" "Enough." You turn away, pressing your forehead to his chest once more. "You're not supposed to make fun of me, I was vulnerable." "M'not making fun of you, baby. I'm absolutely enamored with you, I'd also marry you tonight if you'd allow it." He shrugs as he tilts your head back to rinse your hair, and you pout up at him. "I have a question." "Shoot." He feels your hands trace his torso, before you flick his hip. "What is this?" He looks down, the faded tattoo you'd been wondering about peeking through your fingers. He sighs, "It's a tattoo, babe. What else would it be?"

"Well for one, it's shitty. Second of all, of what?" You run your thumb over his skin, making him snort. "It is shitty, because I was drunk and I got it done with Soonyoung and Mingyu at their friend Seungcheol's apartment. It's also shitty because Seungcheol wanted someone to practice his fine line technique on and I was so wasted that I volunteered." "You've never been that reckless unless you're with me. Where was I? And what is it!?" You insist, and he snorts as he pours your body wash on your loofah. "It's your name. I kept saying it because I always think of you when I'm drunk and Seungcheol assumed it was what I wanted. It was actually very pretty when it was new, it's just faded now. There's a little red splotch somewhere, it was a heart."

He nods as you gape at him, "My name?" "It was two years ago. I was actually going to call you before Soonyoung threw my phone in the pool and told me I didn't deserve to call you if I wasn't going to beg for you back. I was always willing, I was just scared you'd reject me because of how much of a douche I'd been." "How'd you explain this to your hookups?" You blurt, and he smiles. "I didn't. They always knew. I don't know if you want me to talk about that, though. Your feelings are important to me and I was so shitty to you then." "You're a dumbass, both for not just talking to me and for getting this done at someone's apartment. You should get it redone at an actual parlor, I heard Hansol does tattoos now." You trace the faded ink, and he snorts. "I'd bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just branding me like that."

You don't say anything as he runs the sponge over your body, your eyes pointed as he scoffs. "But I'm the freak." "I counted thirty six positions, you are the freak. God forbid I want a little something to kiss before I go down on you." You roll your eyes, and you hear him choke as he pushes you back slightly under the water. "Careful, you'll sound like me if you keep that up." "Oh my God, I fucking asked you if I was too rough! You insisted I keep going!" He whines, landing a soft smack to your thigh as he washes your legs. You snicker, holding onto his shoulders, looking down at the red lines you'd inflicted. "Oh, your back is gonna hurt, babe." "Well worth it, in my opinion. I honestly thought I was going to lose my mind yesterday." He sighs as he stands upright, your arms wrapping around his waist as he presses a kiss to your hairline. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get my shit together, my love." "You know you've never called me that outside of those two months we were together?" You murmur, and he nods. "Mmh. Can't call you something you aren't, can I? I mean, you'll always be the love of my life but you weren't exactly mine and I didn't deserve you then, anyway." "And you do now?" You ask softly, and he shakes his head as he switches you out to stand under the showerhead, wincing as the hot water hits his back. "No. I'm always going to be undeserving of you, especially after the shit I pulled. But I have no problem spending my lifetime proving that I love you."

You don't reply, holding onto him silently as he cleanses himself. Your eyes linger on the flexing of his muscles, the way his face twitches as your body wash stings the aftermath of your nails digging into his back. "I'll be nicer next time." You assure him as he rolls his eyes, a mumble of no you won't from his lips as he presses a kiss to your hairline.

The sun is beginning to peek into your bedroom by the time you and Chan exit, and you sit in your bathrobe as Chan strips your sheets. He makes your bed in silence, hiding his yawns with shakes of his head and fishing through your drawers for his old clothes. He finds a pair of sweatpants and an old cheer shirt of his, tugging them on before easing your tired form into your own pajamas. You nearly trip as he slides your shorts up your legs, his fingers cheekily pinching the swell of your ass as you swat at him.

"Unlock the door." You remind him as he slides you under the fresh blankets, and he nods, his breath minty from your toothpaste as he presses a kiss to your nose. He unlocks it quietly, checking the time on his phone before sliding in next to you. "What time is it?" "Almost seven. Rosie's gonna barge in here." He mumbles as you settle on top of him, your head on his chest as his hand slips under your shirt with a sigh. "I love you." "I love you, Channie." You murmur into his shirt, your eyes heavy as he pulls you impossibly closer, planting a kiss on your cheek without a word.

3:41PM.

You're the first to wake up, feeling like a train hit you as your muscles take in the absolute marathon you put yourself through with Chan the night before. You grimace as your back pops, stretching carefully so as to not wake up your boyfriend – who is curled into your chest, his arm hanging off your hip. Biting back your smile, you carefully run your fingers through his hair before sighing inwardly. 

Sitting up slowly, you see something on your dresser. It's a framed photo, and a Polaroid tucked into the corner of the frame. You squint at it, unable to make out the shapes without rubbing at your eyes. Chan stirs next to you, a pout on his lips as he peels his eyes open. "Lay down, I'm cold."

"Hang on." You slide out of bed, wincing as you stand up. Your eyes land on the photo once more as you stand in front of your dresser, and it's you and Chan in a gold frame. It's the night of the Christmas Eve dinner, and it's slightly blurry but you can see the way you're smiling up at Chan shyly, and the way his eyes are starry as he looks down at you. It's the photo Rosie took, the one she didn't let you look at.

The Polaroid is also of you and Chan, in your bed with the same clothes you have on now. They must've walked in in the morning when neither of you responded, because you're both sound asleep in the photo. He's holding you close, and your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your promise ring glinting against his neck in the flash of the camera. Your foreheads are pressed together, cheeks flushed in the soft morning light.

The note sits under the frame, and you look closer at the frame. Between You and Me, it reads, and you feel your cheeks heat as you slip the note out.

We've been trying to teach Rosie how to be careful with her money, because your mother started giving her an allowance a few weeks ago. She wanted to get you a Christmas gift but didn't know what you liked, and instead of asking…she took your camera from when you were a little girl and snapped a photo of you and Chan at Christmas Eve dinner. She told me when we were getting the photos developed that she thought Chan was really important to you, and that she knew she was, too – so it was like a win-win situation, to give you a gift of the things you cherish the most.

She's pretty good at making something out of nothing, and she begged me to take her to that old thrift store you loved in high school. She found this frame near the old book section that you walked through a lot, too. So profound for a child, but I digress. The Polaroid is from me, consider it an apology for allowing your mother to make such insane bets when we all knew that the two of you were bound to fall in love. P.S. Rosie's pretty good at capturing beautiful moments. Do you think she'd make a good wedding photographer? ♡

– Dad.

Your vision is blurry as you feel the heat of Chan's body behind you, his fingers carefully picking the frame up and looking at it. "You're so in love with me." He murmurs, and you half expect to look up and see him smiling – but his face is serious, his thumb ghosting over your face in the photo. You swallow nervously as he stares at the photo, clearing your throat.

"I am. Is that…okay?" You whisper, and he nods silently, closing his eyes as he sets the photo down. "We're taking that home, right? We can't leave it here. I want to see it everyday." He's not looking at you, holding the Polaroid gingerly in his hand. You watch as he sets it back down, his fingers plucking the note from your hand, leaning against the dresser as he reads it. He's blinking back tears and you feel your chest warm as he sighs, running his hand over his face. "We need to get Rosie that Lego set your dad said no to. The really big one, what was it?" "Rosie has never even seen Titanic. She just wants it because she thinks the boat is cool, and my dad said no because it's seven hundred dollars." You snort, and he shakes his head. "Don't care. She needs it. I need to buy it, where are your keys?" 

"We'll take my dad's, I don't feel like moving her booster seat." 

You smile to yourself as your boyfriend hands you a pair of jeans to slide on as he roots around for his socks, and you quietly slip out of your bedroom after tugging them on. You see your parents sitting around your dining room table, a few drinks and a deck of cards spread out between the four of them. Rosie sits quietly in Mrs. Lee's lap as Mrs. Lee explains the game, and you clear your throat. "Good afternoon." You say softly, and the parents turn their heads to look at you. They're smiling, and Rosie lights up, wiggling out of Mrs. Lee's lap and running towards you. "Did you like my present!? I made it for you!" "I know, babycakes. I loved your present." You pick her up, holding her on your hip as she moves your hair out of your face. You turn to your father, who has a knowing look on his face. "You mind if I take her for a bit? Chan wants to buy her something." "No sugar. She got a filling this morning." Your mother murmurs over her cards, taking a sip of her drink as she nods. Rosie huffs in your grasp, about to protest when Chan appears behind you. "Hey. Ready?" 

His cheeks are ruddy as he greets your parents, and none of them say a word as you tug on your boots as he makes Rosie fetch her coat. She's nearly bouncing off the stairs as she runs back down, and Chan helps her put it on as she eagerly asks what she's getting and why she's getting it.

"Titanic." Chan shrugs, and your father nearly spits out his drink as you shove the two of them out of the door, grabbing his car keys off the hook. "Y/N! Don't buy her that, it's too expensive!" "Can't hear you, Pop! See ya!" You grin cheekily, slipping out the front door and seeing Chan and Rosie giggling as he buckles her into her seat. Your heart warms at the sight, and you make eye contact with Chan as he shuts the door. He smiles, tilting his head towards the passenger side door as he opens it for you. You climb in silently, his eyes watching your every move. "You okay?" "I love you."

EPILOGUE – JANUARY 7, 5:30AM.

"Do you have to go?" You'd already stayed four more days than you'd originally planned, and you were really cutting it close by driving back on a Sunday. Rosie's eyes are tired and pleading as you hold her on your hip, Chan struggling to shove the last bag into your trunk as you snicker. "We do, babycakes. But don't worry! I'll come home with Channie in April for your birthday! Isn't that fun?" "I guess." She pouts, resting her head on your shoulder. "Will you call me everyday?" "Yes, I'll call you everyday." You nuzzle your nose to hers as Chan huffs, slamming your trunk shut. "Babe, someday you're going to have to pack this car and you'll understand why I sleep on the way back to campus." He's red in the face as your mother ventures outside to retrieve your little sister, Mrs. Lee in tow with a bag full of goodies for the trip back to campus. You smile softly at your mother as she takes your now crying sister, your heart aching as you wipe her tears.

"Don't cry, Rosie. We'll be back soon, I promise." Chan nods, holding his pinky out for your little sister to take. She sobs into your mother's parka as she does so, and your mother gives you a warm smile. "You guys take care of each other, okay? No more breaking up!" "No more breaking up." You both repeat, your cheeks flushing as Mrs. Lee gives you both a hug goodbye. Your father appears, holding up two tumblers full of hot chocolate and Mr. Lee hands Chan an envelope. "Pocket money. Don't let Y/N starve on the way home, she told us you only fed her beef jerky." "I did not!" He begins to protest, but you clap your hand over his mouth with a wide smile. "Thank you, Mr. Lee. I appreciate you worrying about my appetite." The goodbyes are not nearly as sappy as they usually are, but you know it's because they're looking forward to graduation. It will approach fast, you know you'll lose yourself in the excitement of it all and best of all, Chan will be right there with you. You're in the car waving to Rosie until you turn the corner, before your shoulders sag against your seat. You pout, making Chan smile as he reaches to pinch your cheek.

"Rosie will be okay, baby." "I know, I know. I just wish I was around more to see her grow up. She won't think I'm as cool by the time I'm finally around to hang out and stuff." "Babe, she's seven this year. She's gonna think you're cool." He rolls his eyes as he stops at a red light, connecting his phone to the aux and handing it to you. You sigh, unlocking his phone to see a photo of you and Rosie at the Lego store on New Year's Day as his home screen, paired with the same sentimental baby picture that rested in your locket as his lock screen – that one never changed. You say nothing as your cheeks warm, opening his Spotify and pressing shuffle as he turns left to take the exit to get onto the expressway.

You both tense as you hear the beginning notes of Meddle About by Chase Atlantic. He gives you a sideways glance as the lyrics start pouring through, and you clear your throat quietly.

"There's an exit…up ahead. It leads–" "Into the woods, yeah. I'm just gonna–" "Yeah. Should I-" "Start taking your coat off, mhm." "Got it. Are you gonna–" "Yup. Didn't bring any condoms with me." Your cheeks flush as you queue the same stupid sex playlist you made three years ago as he silently takes the exit before the one for the expressway, tonguing his cheek as he drives into the still-dark solace of the woods. You have your shirt off by the time he finds the same spot you found three years ago, and by the time he kills the engine, you're in the backseat.

"Hey, Chan?" The opening notes of Kiss It Better by Rihanna fill the car as he all but rips his coat off.

"Yes, Y/N?" "I love you." He smiles, kissing you tenderly as he lays you down in your backseat.

"I love you, baby."

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆status: completed

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆total word count: 218.5k (lmao my fingers slipped)

☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3

☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)

☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆discord server link here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)

You fucking touch her, you're dead.

➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)

Jungkook is Tae's best friend.

➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)

You know I hate that nickname.

➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)

You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.

➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)

I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.

➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)

We just pretend nothing happened, no?

➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)

I really want to kiss you right now.

➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything (15k)

Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?

➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)

I want you.

➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)

You make me insane.

➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)

I don’t want to lose you, peach.

➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)

Can’t wait for you to be back.

➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)

I can’t be with you.

➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)

I have to talk to him.

➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)

We never told each other how we felt.

➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)

You came?

➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.9k)

I think I was waiting for you my whole life.

➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)

Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.

Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)

➳Chapter 1.5: the first party (1.6k)

Then why are you bringing him home, peach?

➳Chapter 3.5: Valentine's Day (1.1k)

We should have hung out like this before.

➳Chapter 4.5: a walk through campus (852)

You love it, peach.

➳Chapter 5.5: the return to reality (2k)

You wanted to talk?

➳Chapter 6.5: hosting his friends at the apartment (4.4k)

What the fuck is wrong with you?

➳Chapter 7.5: when he realizes (2.5k)

Isn't she Taehyung's sister?

➳Chapter 8.5: the engagement party (6.6k)

Have fun while it lasts.

➳Chapter 9.5: jealous jungkook (3k)

Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?

➳Chapter 10.5: the morning before Paris (1.7k)

I promise I'll come back to you and make it work.

➳Chapter 11.5: the kiss (1.2k)

Just this once.

➳Chapter 12.5: after losing you (4.6k)

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

➳Chapter 13.5: returning home (4k)

What am I supposed to do?

➳ Chapter 14.5: losing you again (3k)

I can't believe you've been wearing the necklace

➳Chapter 15.5: a conversation with Taehyung, and his reunion with you (2.6k)

It’s never been like that with her.

☆☆☆☆☆

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[sortagaysortahigh]

Taste | Joaquin Torres

A/N: Hey guysss, this is based on this req! for a sex pollen fic. NOW YALL DON'T BEAT ME UP OK THIS IS MY FIRST SEX POLLEN FIC EVER! But anyways, yall know i had to throw exes to lovers/idiots in love in the mix, I'm a plot girl what can I say! Everyone say thank you to @love-chx for beta-ing ts for me, love that hoe <3

Summary: Desk duty at the Avengers compound was simple work, but throw in your obnoxious ex-boyfriend Joaquin, and a plant from a different planet, and you have a whole other problem on your hands.

Warnings: spelling and grammar errors (girl it is what it is ok), 2nd person POV, use of y/n, cursing, SAMBUCKY SUPREMACY WOO!!!, mentions of overdose (ibuprofen/in a joking way?), implied childhood trauma, Smut: Dubcon bc sex pollen, kissing, handjobs, oral (f & m receiving), smacking/spanking, spitting, choking, hair pulling, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, hickies, joaquin is mister munch ok, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, creampies, squirting, dirty talk, praise, idk sex love confessions (i am who i am once again), switch!reader and switch!joaquin these two are UGH

Word count: 8k

Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader

Honestly guys, i just wanna kiss this man on the mouth <3

Today is simply not your day. 

You had a terrible morning, waking up late with a headache that had you contemplating overdosing on Ibuprofen—if that was even possible—and because you were so late for work, you were stuck on desk duty. 

Desk duty wasn’t inherently bad or boring, not when you worked with the Avengers themselves, even if the team was an odd mixture of clearly depressed ex-criminals and happy-go-lucky heroes that loved their job.

But desk duty meant dealing with Joaquin Torres. 

A year and a half ago you would’ve been perfectly content working out of the compound with Joaquin at your side. At that point in time, you and him were actually in a happy relationship, but following his accident and his depressed period, the relationship got worse, and he constantly pushed you away.

Eventually, you were tired of being pushed away. It wasn’t as if he was subtle about it, you two would get into fight and fight, all of which revolved around him telling you that you were ‘too much’ or that you needed to ‘stop trying to make him feel better’. So you’d broken up with him.

It’s been almost eight months, and of course, the first few were awkward and tense. However, you both chose to swallow your pride and force the facade that nothing was wrong. Well, at least whenever everyone else was around. 

Technically speaking, you weren’t an Avenger, you just worked for Sam and Bucky post-Blip. Granted, they did recruit you in Madripoor when they’d realized you were a one-way stop for any and all information. 

You didn’t have any superpowers or enhanced abilities, you just knew your way around blackmail, fighting, and information reconnaissance. It was obvious that they needed someone like you, and after questioning why you were in Madripoor, they did feel a bit bad for you.

The whole ‘childhood trauma, parental abandonment in a country with no real laws’ thing solidified their need to take you in. Although if it was anywhere but Madripoor, their method of getting you on their side would’ve been considered kidnapping, especially considering one minute you were in Madripoor at a bar, the next you were waking up on a plane flying back to the States.

But that was several years ago, and you were over it.

For the most part.

Working for Sam and Bucky wasn’t exactly difficult, you just dealt with recon, sometimes going on missions with the team, and other times you’d be in the air or at the compound. 

Desk duty typically correlated to being at the compound.

Today, things weren’t difficult, all you really had to do was hack into a few satellites, pull some information, and that was it. Then you’d be free to wander around the tower or take a trip through the city—the same things you did every day.

However, it was as if Joaquin made it his end goal to piss you off every single day or maybe that was in your head. 

The second you’d gotten down to your typical workspace—a smaller room located off of the main lab filled with different sized monitors, a few seats, and of course, your series of neatly organized pens and stationary—Joaquin was already in your usual seat with one of your pens between his teeth.

He was slightly hunched over the desk, pulling geographical data from several different sources, brows knit together with his teeth grinding against the green pen as he concentrated. He also had a set of headphones on, so he didn’t notice your presence in the room, not until you were snatching the pen out of his hands with an annoyed expression.

You waited for him to push the headphones off, he looked at you as if you were utterly insane.

“The hell was that for? What, you woke up in a pissy mood or something?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Get the hell out of my seat. And stop chewing on my damn pens! Don’t you have another room to work out of! This compound is gigantic and somehow you always end up in my space.” 

Joaquin shrugged. “It’s nicer in here. You’ve got the whole room decked out like the blonde from Criminal minds. Besides, I’m supposed to be working with you—so why would I work somewhere else? Y’know if you would’ve gotten up three hours ago, you could’ve been on the plane out of here with Buck.”

He leaned back in the chair, still looking directly at you, a smirk on his face at the sight of you clenching your jaw. You were visibly angry, that much he knew. 

Joaquin always knew how to get under your skin, he also knew almost everything about you, the perk of being your annoying ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t as if he had it out for you, and he completely understood why you’d broken up with him in the first place. But, deep down, he did still harbor his feelings for you, so he liked being close to you.

Even if you hated it.

“You’re insufferable, Torres. Now get out of my seat!” you grabbed his arm, planting your feet firmly before practically hauling him off of the chair, the action catching him by surprise, leading to him stumbling directly into you.

The pain in your head was now in your back as you laid flat on the ground with Joaquin on top of you. He practically tackled you to the ground, you tried grabbing onto one of the large tables to brace yourself, however, you hadn’t let go of his arm.

“If you wanted me on top of you, you could’ve just asked baby.” He winked as he rolled off of you, softly laughing while he smiled, glancing over at you.

You stared at the ceiling, blinking several times as you tried not to scream at him. Plus you were in pain. Admittedly, you could take a hit, however, today wasn’t your day, and you were five minutes away from crying tears of frustration. So you opted to get off of the ground, giving him the middle finger before sitting in your usual desk chair, swivelling to face the screens, picking up directly where he’d left off.

Joaquin got off of the ground, pulling another chair beside you before plopping into it.

“You okay baby?” He placed a hand over your forearm, which you quickly shoved off.

“Fuck off Joaquin, I’m already have a shitty morning, now my back hurts and my head hurts and I’m tired. Just shut up so we can sit in silence and work.” 

He slowly nodded, except instead of scooting away, he stood up, moving behind you before lightly pushing your upper body forward. Then his hands were on your shoulders, thumbs applying the perfect amount of pressure into your tense shoulder blades. The way he always used to—except he used to do way more than just your shoulders.

You tried to shrug him off at first. Joaquin sighed, “Don’t start, just let me take care of you for five minutes. You can go back to being the Wicked Witch of the West after.”

You nodded, jaw clenched as you tried to remain annoyed with him. But it was always hard to be annoyed with Joaquin. Sure you absolutely wanted to wring his neck half the time, but following your break up, you’d gotten to see him recover in more ways than one. It’d taken time, but he was finally himself again, and he learned how to cope with the mental and emotional stress from the incident.

Part of you always considered what it would be like to get back together with him. The other part, the part that was still a bit heartbroken, always shut it down. 

It was easier to be mean to Joaquin than to be his friend. Being his friend was a slippery slope that you weren’t ready for. 

Or at least, you’d convinced yourself you weren’t ready for it.

The next hour passed in a peaceful silence. Joaquin eventually sat back down, pulling up different screens, comparing his information to yours, ensuring that the both of you were actually pulling the correct satellites and getting into the right systems. He’d even had time to run a few different programs, sorting through bits and pieces of foreign software.

But the lab going into lockdown caught you both off guard. The lights flashed red for several seconds before the typical lockdown alarm went off. Typically this only happened when foreign or dangerous substances needed to be contained. 

You were the first to stand up, shushing Joaquin when he tried to protest you going into the main lab. You blinked a few times, looking around the room, trying to figure out what would’ve set the security system off.

There were several different specimens that had been brought back from multiple missions worldwide over the past two months, most of them were deemed safe enough to leave in the open, as long as they were in their own containment cubes. So you walked through the lab, taking a mental note of everything, trying to remember what was what based on the information Peter Parker had provided.

Joaquin groaned, following right behind you. “Could you not run into the face of danger every five minutes?”

You shushed him again. “Please, this is a highly secured base. The only people breaking and entering would be literal aliens, and we would’ve already known that. One of the specimens is probably in a broken container or something.” 

He nodded, following you, eyes tracing the room, until they landed on a pink glittery mist surrounding a somewhat shattered glass case which contained a very large plant. He cleared his throat, then elbowed you lightly.

“Uh—like that?” Joaquin pointed directly at the mist, which was clearly spreading through the air.

“Yeah, exactly like that. Move so I can go get a better look.” He grabbed your arm as you tried to walk past him.

“Is this really a good idea?” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Joaquin, we’re already in the room with the mist, it’s most likely already in our systems. It’s just a plant, it’s not like we’re gonna die.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head as you walked across the tiled floors, humming a tune as you got closer to the mist. Joaquin grimmaced as he followed behind you, teeth clenched tightly together as if he was anticipating getting hit by something.

But the mist didn’t do much, if anything it smelled just like you—like your favorite perfume mixed with your shampoo. It was nice and soothing, before he was even processing it, he took a deep inhale of it as you stepped around the broken glass to get a better look at the plant behind it.

Your brows knit together, the smell was incredibly familiar, it didn’t take much for you to recognize it as Joaquin—which was odd. Considering a plant wouldn’t smell like him. Then you were slipping your hand into the large broken gap of the glass container—this glass was supposed to be the equivalent to bulletproof so it was strange that a plant managed to shatter it.

Then you felt the thickness in the air, as if the container was humid and the air was condensed. 

“What the hell are you?” you whispered as you got closer, getting a better look at the large vibrant plant. It was clearly not something earthly, probably one of the items found at an old Hydra base. But you couldn’t deny that the plant was beautiful, however, when it spurred a gust of pink air into your face, you inhaled deeply as you gasped, coughing from the impact.

Clearly that’s how the glass managed to shatter, a buildup of pressure from whatever the hell the plant was releasing.

You stumbled back, directly into Joaquin—who managed to steady you. His hands were on your waist while you stared ahead. Then you felt it, the heat overtaking your entire body. You were practically on fire, and incredibly uncomfortable in the confines of your clothing. 

The second you moved away from Joaquin, the heat became painful, your eyes widening at the shooting pain in your waist specifically. Then you turned to look at him, his eyes were blown with lust—you recognized that look. You’d known it well at one point. 

He bit his bottom lip as he stared at you with hooded eyes, a clear red flush to his skin, chest rapidly rising and falling as he tried to process what was happening to him. Joaquin’s entire mind was consumed by you, consumed by memories of you writhing beneath him, moaning his name like a prayer, your hands on him—his hands on you, it was as if his brain was managing to replay each and every time the both of you had sex.

Joaquin was hard, harder than he’d been in a long time, and he was sweating. His skin was on fire to the point that he was shrugging off the U-Miami hoodie he had on as he stepped away from you, and away from the slowly dissipating—or rather slowly spreading—mist. 

“Shit—baby you need to get the hell away from me. Like now.” 

You blinked a few times, looking at him, watching as he ripped his sweater off, tossing it on the ground before reaching for his belt—that’s when your eyes caught the prominent bulge. The sight sent a shock through you, then you had goosebumps. You were somehow freezing and burning simultaneously.

Then the memories started flooding in, the sight of him on top of you, below you, between your thighs, the way he’d moan in your ear, his teeth and lips against your skin. It had you taking several steps back, nearly falling after walking directly into a metal side table, knocking its contents to the ground.

Joaquin groaned, running a hand through his hair, the heat unbearable at this point. He pulled his shirt off, throwing it elsewhere as fast as possible. “Shit—don’t look at me like that baby.” He ran both hands along his face, looking up at the ceiling, hands clenching and unclenching. 

The pain that came with the heat made it difficult to breathe, Joaquin leaned against the closest table to him, letting out a few laughs, shaking his head at the circumstance.

“You mean to tell me, there’s a sex plant just sitting in the lab, and of all people to get stuck with it—it’s you and me baby? It couldn’t have been like Sam and Bucky—or John and Ava? Or really anyone else?” 

You scoffed at that, pulling your own sweatshirt off, tossing it on the table to your side. “Oh what, you wanted to get stuck in here with Ava or Yelena—or maybe even Kate?” 

He now turned to face you, blinking several times as he shook his head. “Are you trying to start a fight with me right now? As if I’m not over here dying—thinking about you and all of the things I’ve done and want to do to you? Now you choose to act jealous and mean?”

You shook your head at him, taking a few deep breaths, trying to fight the pain, but your knees were feeling wobbly, and you couldn’t stop staring at Joaquin’s chest—eyes tracing his defined abdomen and the familiar trail of hair that had you licking your lips. You did your best to lean against the metal table, both hands gripping the edges of it.

“It hurts doesn’t it? Fuck—I know it’s hurting me.” Joaquin winced as he spoke, gaze on you, watching as you struggled to hold yourself up. He knew better than to go help you, he truly did, but that didn’t stop him from walking across the area and pulling you closer to him before picking you up bridal style, practically whimpering at the feeling of you against him—then he walked away from the broken glass, scattered tables, and the plant. 

He put you down on the small sofa you’d forced him to move into your office space a year ago. Joaquin tried not to focus on the way you winced the second he let go of you.

Then you looked at him, holding eye contact as you licked your lips. “Joaquin I need you to fuck me.” There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in your words, and that had his eyes widening.

“Are you sure this is what you want—baby I don’t think I can control myself—like once we start I just—” 

You sit up, ignoring the pain shooting through your body as you pulled him into you, smashing your lips against his.

Joaquin easily melted into the kiss, and the relief you both felt at the contact was mind-numbing. 

You pulled back first, biting his bottom lip. “I don’t give a shit about control Joaquin, I want you to fuck me—I’m in so much fucking pain.” Your words were harsh before kissing him again, hands in his hair, tugging at the strands while he leaned closer into you, lips parted, tongue against yours, moaning against your lips.

He pulled away for a few seconds, just to sit on the sofa and pull you into his lap, lips back on yours, his hands on your waist, bunching up the old t-shirt you had on. Fingers now digging into your skin as you started grinding yourself against him.

“You gotta take these off, Hermosa—” He tugged on the waistband of your sweats. You nodded at him, biting his bottom lip again before standing back up, letting him tug them off before you were kicking them to the side.

It wasn’t long before you were undoing his belt and tugging at his jeans. 

Joaquin moaned beneath you, you were like a woman possessed, and he would do anything and everything for you. 

His lips moved along your jaw, then down your throat, leaving a series of nips against your skin. Joaquin moaned against your throat as you slid your hand below his jeans, then as you grasped his cock, he bit against your shoulder—earning a loud whine from you. 

“Fuck—okay stop—shit.” His strained voice caught you off guard, you blinked a few times, pulling your hand away while he rested his forehead against your shoulder. 

Joaquin’s head was spinning at this point, all he could think about was being between your thighs. “I need to taste you—shit baby y’gonna let me taste you?” He sounded so breathy and desperate as he looked at you.

You nodded, without any hesitation and let him manhandle you back onto the couch. He was shoving you against the cushions while making his way between your thighs.

Joaquin moaned at the sight of your damp panties, a large dark spot on the grey fabric. He leaned in closer, nose against it, inhaling your scent before licking a flat stripe along the gusset of your panties. He then kissed along your inner thighs, biting into the skin a few times—leaving marks while your hands were in his hair.

“Fuck—missed you so much. Taste so good—all the time. I dream about this—about you like this.” He spoke as he kissed along your panties again, then he was pulling them to the side, moaning while taking in your glistening cunt.

Your back arched the second his tongue was on you. Joaquin licked a flat stripe along your cunt from top to bottom—over and over again. Groaning against you before sliding his tongue along your sopping entrance.

“So fuckin wet—” Then his tongue was inside of you and you were practically seeing stars. Joaquin liked it messy, that was a fact that you’d learned early on in your relationship with him. He practically pressed his entire face against your cunt, the sharp angle of his nose pressing firmly against your clit as his tongue darted in and out of you.

He was allconsuming. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, your back arched even more as you tried to close your legs—attempting to push him away. 

Joaquin wasn’t having that, he held your thighs in place, practically pinning you down as he continued his motions, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you were moaning his name and creaming all over his tongue. 

He was a moaning, whimpering mess between your thighs. But he didn’t let up, making you cum somehow made him feel better—it soothed the burn throughout his entire body. He moved from your fluttering hole to your clit, tongue swirling around the swollen bundle as he finally looked up at you—your eyes squeezed shut as you bit your bottom lip, grinding your hips against his face as best as you could.

“Joaquin—fuck—fuck!” The overstimulation had all of your nerve endings on fire, or maybe it was the pollen, you didn’t know and you didn’t care. Not when he was sucking on your clit and moaning against your cunt. 

Then you felt his fingers against your entrance, two easily sliding in, the stretch was so familiar. It had your head spinning.

Joaquin alternated from sucking on your clit to swirling his tongue against it. Even taking the time to rapidly flick his tongue along it, listening to your high pitched moans as his fingers slowly curled into you. He pulled away from your clit to look at you. “Look at me baby, let me see those pretty eyes.”

You nodded slowly, eyes fluttering open as you looked down at him, his mouth back on your clit, fingers moving a bit faster inside of you. Your ears were ringing, and the heat in your body was finally dissipating, but there was a lingering pain—as if this wasn’t enough.

You shook your head at him “Joaquin—I need more.” 

He raised a single brow, fingers rapidly fucking into you as he slid in a third, the newfound stretch had you practically mewling, tugging his hair so hard his scalp was starting to sting. Then you were whimpering his name, struggling to keep your eyes open as he sucked on your clit—pushing you right over the edge.

Joaquin’s fingers kept going, fucking you through your orgasm, ushering a new wave of heat in your body.

You were shoving him away this time, shaking your head, low pleas for him to stop. 

Then he sat back on his haunches, looking up at you, his lips and chin covered in your slick as he slowly slid his fingers out of your cunt. 

“S’fuckin greedy—look at you. Just begging for more huh? Tell me what you need, baby, I’ll give you everything.” His voice was deeper than usual, he was still on fire, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin as he looked at you, eyes trailing over your figure, still wearing the same loose t-shirt. Except now he was processing that the shirt was his.

“I need you—” 

He nodded his head, brows raised, smirking, “Yeah, what about me?” 

You rolled your eyes a bit, sitting up further before taking off the shirt and tossing it at him, fanning yourself with a hand, trying to combat the heat, wincing at the pain in your abdomen. 

“Joaquin, please I need your cock—please.” You sounded so needy and miserable as you looked at him, shaking your head slightly “It hurts—need you to make it stop hurting.”

That’s all it took for him to be up, kicking his jeans off, letting his clothes fall to the ground before he was back on the sofa, pulling you directly onto his lap without a care in the world. He took a few seconds to undo the frilly pink bra you had on, moaning at the sight of your tits in his face.

“Missed these a lot.” Then his hands were on them, massaging them before tugging on your nipples. A few high pitched gasps leaving your lips. Then his tongue was along your throat again, licking across your salty skin, letting out a low moan as he sucked a few marks against the swell of your breasts. 

Joaquin didn’t hesitate to run his tongue along your nipples, then he pulled one into his mouth, sucking on it before lightly biting into it. 

Your hands were all over him, moving from his hair, to his shoulders, to his chest. Nails scratching along his skin—the feeling had his eyes rolling back slightly.

Then you were grasping onto his cock again, hand wrapped around the thick shaft, slowly rising and falling, then your thumb was rubbing against the head of his cock, spreading his precum all around—using it to move your hand faster. 

He moaned against your chest, pulling away, resting his head against the wall, lips parted as he moaned your name. Then you leaned forward a bit, spitting directly onto his cock, moving your hand even faster before kissing along his neck, biting against his pulse point slightly—the way he liked it.

Joaquin bucked his hips up into your hand, guttural moans leaving his lips while you kissed along his exposed skin. Your open mouthed kisses cooled him down just enough, then you were practically mirroring his previous actions, licking a flat stripe along his neck, from the base of his shoulder to his ear. Then your tongue was trailing the edge of his ear before you tugged it between your teeth.

“C’mon baby—you know what I like.” His voice was strained as your hand moved faster. You let go of his ear, now inches away from his face, your free hand caressing his jaw as your thumb tugged on his bottom lip. He nodded his lead, licking his lips slightly before opening his mouth a bit wider. 

You didn’t hesitate to spit.

His tongue was against yours in seconds, the kiss was sloppy, spit practically gliding along your chin as he kissed you with his all. 

You moved the hand on his cock, gently angling it down a bit before sliding it right along your dripping cunt. He moaned into your lips at the feeling of you grinding against his length. Your hips moving back and forth against him. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, a thin string of spit connected your bottom lip to his, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. So Joaquin kissed you again.

Your hips shifted again, you whimpered against his lips the second you managed to line the head of his cock up with your hole—then you were sliding yourself onto him—moaning against his lips as he slowly stretched you out.

The burning pain was slipping away, but all you felt was want. You wanted all of Joaquin—every last part of him and then some.

He bit your bottom lip before moaning against your mouth. Joaquin practically shuddered at the feeling of you sliding down his cock, his entire head hazy now.

“Fuck—missed this pussy so much baby, feels so good wrapped around me. So fuckin’ tight, need you to move. Fuckin use me—” He moaned your name, head back against the wall as he bit down on his bottom lip. Joaquin’s eyes were shut as you started slowly rocking against him, then you were lifting up and dropping yourself back down. His hands dug into your waist, fingers bruising against the soft skin while you bounced on his cock.

You’d never felt this good before, the pleasure was short circuiting you. All you could focus on was fucking yourself against Joaquin’s cock. You barely registered anything you were saying. “So fuckin big—fuck feels so good—oh my god—Joaquin.” His name slipped past your lips in a low whine.

You used his shoulders as leverage, nails digging into his skin as you kept your motions up, chasing your own high without a singular care in the world. You smiled and bit your lip, head thrown back as you bounced.

You felt as if you were simultaneously fully conscious and absolutely out of your mind.

The pleasure had you on cloud nine, in a state of pure ecstasy. 

Joaquin looked at you, moaning at the sight of your tits bouncing with each movement, then he looked down, biting his bottom lip at the ring of your cream on his cock, watching as you practically swallowed his cock. 

“Just like that Hermosa, you take it so fuckin good—so fuckin pretty. Cunt’s so fuckin wet—missed me didn’t she?” 

You nodded at his words, eyes slowly opening as you looked at him. The second you’d made eye contact his hand was around your throat, fingers pressed against your pulse point—restricting enough to make you feel light headed. 

“Joaquin—fuck I’m gonna”  You took a sharp inhale one of your hands now grasping onto his forearm, hips slightly faltering as you gushed along his cock. He thrusted up into you as you came, nodding his head, mumbling praises that you couldn’t comprehend while you made a mess of him.

“Fuck—love it when you get messy for me baby.” 

You nodded your head at him, slightly out of breath as he kept fucking up into you. 

You thought the pain would’ve been gone by now, but even for the few seconds of relief you felt, another surge of painful heat would spread throughout your entire body. 

Joaquin was still painfully hard, he’d never lasted this long in his life. Especially not with you bouncing on his cock. His hips snapped up into yours as you leaned further into him, your face resting against the crook of his neck. His hands moved now, one still on your waist, the other planting a series of firm smacks against your ass.

You were whimpering, low moans and whines directly against his skin. 

This wasn’t enough for either of you.

Joaquin was gentle as he helped you slide off of him. You two shared a look, a silent agreement that had you on your hands and knees, while he used the sofa for leverage, two hands on your waist as you slowly spread your thighs apart more. He laughed as you gave up on holding your upper body up with your hands, instead resting your face against one of the decorative cushions on the sofa. 

Then he was teasing you—gliding his cock along your glistening cunt, tapping the head against your swollen clit a few times before fully lining himself up with you. 

“Ask for it nicely, Sweetheart.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes slightly, feeling a little more like yourself now. Or at least you did until he landed another smack to your ass, then you felt it—he used one hand to spread you open, spitting directly onto your other hole, his thumb now teasing it. There were a few things that you and Joaquin hadn’t tried before—and this was one of them.

“Joaquin—please.”

You blamed the pollen, it had to have been the pollen that was making you move your hips back into his hand, practically inviting his thumb in. 

“Fuck, you’re so filthy baby, missed you so much. I’ll be nice to you today.” Then Joaquin bottomed out, cock filling you in a way that had you practically drooling. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the new angle, he was so deep—you loved every second of it.

It wasn’t long before his thumb was sliding directly into your ass, the newfound stretch made your toes curl as your cunt clenched around him. Then your hips were meeting his strokes, grinding yourself back against him—lost in the pleasure.

Joaquin was a moaning mess, muttering curses under his breath as he fucked into you, thrusting hard and deep, listening to your whines and whimpers. 

“I’m sorry baby—It’s a lot I know—but, fuck, you feel so good.” He bit his bottom lip after speaking, you whimpered in response, then he was picking up the speed of his thrusts, practically pounding into you—the couch rocking against the wall with every movement. 

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I remember how you like it.” Joaquin’s voice was low as he spoke, gaze focused on the way your cunt welcomed every single thrust, your inner thighs with a sheen wetness from your dripping center—this had to be what heaven felt like.

Then he was leaning forward, practically caging you in before sliding a hand below you, wrapping it around your neck again. The closeness sent a shiver of relief down both of your spines, he paused his movements for a brief second as you did your best to look back at him.

“What's wrong baby? You need something?” 

You nodded at him, Joaquin always knew how to read you—even during sex.

“I need you to kiss me.”

He smiled at that, nodding his head before leaning further into you, lips on yours as you struggled to kiss him back. Then Joaquin started fucking into you again, holding you in place against him—forcing you to take everything he gave you.

You loved every second of it.

You were moaning against his lips, doing your best to kiss him back, your efforts were pathetic. Joaquin was all consuming, you couldn’t think of anything else but Joaquin and the pleasure coursing through your veins, your legs shaking as another orgasm swiftly approached.

“That’s it baby, squeezing me so good—fuck you’re gonna cum huh? Cum all over my cock—give it to me. Want you creaming all over me again.” His voice was low as he spoke, a mix of moans slipping out between his words while he kept fucking into you, the pace brutal—but so fucking good.

You nodded your head, forehead resting against his slightly, the angle a bit awkward as you whined his name, cunt squeezing his cock in a way that had his head spinning.

But Joaquin still couldn’t cum—and he was getting frustrated.

He fucked you through your orgasm, trying to chase his own, but it wasn’t working—he was so close but something was missing.

“F-fuck it’s too much baby—Joaquin please—” 

He nodded, kissing your forehead before pulling out of you, moaning at the sight of your fucked out pussy. Something possessed him in that moment, suddenly he was on his knees, hands on your upper thighs, holding you in place as his tongue was back against you.

Joaquin licked into your cunt as if it was his last meal—he loved going down on you so maybe it made sense that he just wanted to be between your thighs again. 

You were practically shaking as he tongue fucked you, landing rough smacks to your thighs and ass every now and then, your whines only spurring him on more. 

He had you cumming again in minutes—your back arching even harder as you reached back, tugging on his dark curls, grinding yourself against his face as you were coating his chin in your nectar again.

Joaquin kissed against your cunt one last time before pulling away. You were a panting mess on the sofa, ass in the air as you gripped against the cushions with tears falling along your cheeks.

Then you finally looked at him, eyes widening at the sight of his still hard cock. “Quino you still haven't finished?” you were so breathless as you spoke, but the old nickname had him biting his bottom lip, nodding his head at you.

Joaquin watched as you slowly sat up, now looking up at him while he stood a few steps away, then your gaze dropped to his cock, a shiny layer of your juices coating him. His tip was flushed red as he grasped himself, running a hand along his shaft—moaning softly at the sense of relief.

“Let me help you—I know what you like.” 

He nodded his head as you reached forward, grabbing his hand, a silent plea for him to sit down. Then you grasped a pillow, placing it on the floor between his legs before kneeling down. 

The sight of you on your knees between his thighs was enough to have him twitching, you bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him—right into his eyes. Then you grasped his cock, leaning forward to spit on it again, spreading it with your hand as you maintained eye contact.

At this point, your pain was gone, the lingering heat still there—but manageable.

Nothing compared to Joaquin, who felt as if he was burning alive in the deepest layer of hell.

You trailed your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his cock, slowly—deliberately. You repeated the motion a few times before swirling it around the tip of his cock, pulling it into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you harshly sucked on it. 

His hand was in your hair in seconds, then you moaned against him—and that had him bucking his hips. Joaquin’s eyes widened as you gagged against his cock. Then he gently pulled you away from him. “Shit, fuck, I’m sorry baby—that was a lot.” 

You giggled, nodding your head “Yeah? You wanna fuck my face Quino?” 

Joaquin practically choked on air at your sultry tone, eyes wide as he looked down at you. “Please—fuck please.”

Then you wrapped your lips back around him, winking before taking more of his cock into your mouth and down your throat, gagging slightly as you bobbed your head. Then you grasped one of his hands in your own, a reassuring squeeze—a soft message. Joaquin nodded his head again, moaning before he started bucking his hips.

He started off slow, testing your limits, moaning every time you’d gag around him. But the pleading look in your eye—he knew that look and he knew you wanted it.

Before you knew it, Joaquin was guiding your movements and full on fucking your face, letting out strings of moans mixed with curses at the feeling. 

You were taking it, looking up at him with teary eyes, spit drooling along your chin. 

Joaquin was positive he was still in love with you—this exact moment solidified that. 

You tapped on his thigh a few times, he got the message, slowly pulling back, giving you a second to catch your breath. Your drunken giggle had him blushing—if that was even possible at this point. You looked so cockdrunk and fucked out as you stared at him.

“Joaquin” 

He nodded his head, looking at you, brows raised as he caught his breath.

“I want you to cum inside of me.” 

His jaw was practically on the floor at your words, and it wasn’t long before he had you flat against the couch again, slotted perfectly between your thighs as he looked down at you, a few loose curls slightly brushing against your forehead before you pulled him into a kiss.

As you kissed him, Joaquin lined himself up with your entrance and you locked a leg around his waist. Then he was bottoming out inside of you again, both of you moaning against one another’s lips. 

He kissed you with his all, pouring months of unspoken emotions into this as he rocked his hips into you, fucking you much slower than before. Hard, deep, and slow—the way he knew you loved it. 

Your nails dug into his back, scratching along his skin as you rolled your hips against him.

“Fuck—feels so good baby—still so fuckin tight.” He rested his head in the crook of your neck while he fucked you, his body still on fire, but this was different—he was chasing his high. He was so close, he could feel it in his bones, a numbing pleasure taking over.

“Just like that Quino, fuck, just like that! Oh my god—Oh my god!” your back was arching into him as you felt yourself getting closer and closer, the coil in your abdomen so tight it hurt, you needed to cum—desperately.

So did Joaquin.

Then you grasped his hair, tugging him back slightly, he looked down at you as you looked into his eyes. “I missed you—fuck missed you so much.” Then your lips were on his gain, pulling him into another sloppy desperate kiss.

He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, and he kissed you until he felt as if he couldn’t breathe, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours, feeling himself right on the edge. 

“Want you to cum Joaquin—wanna feel it—please cum for me.” Yourwords were quiet whines as you pressed a few quick kisses to his lips. But that didn’t send him over the edge.

No, what sent Joaquin over the edge was your breathless whispers, praising him, and a short, almost shallow “I love you—”

He moaned your name like a prayer as his hips stilled, warmth spreading through you as thick ropes of cum decorate your walls. You moaned against him, feeling euphoric as you came again.

The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, neither speaking a single word as he practically collapsed against you. Your hands tracing circles into his back while he rested his head in the crook of your neck—avoiding looking at you. 

Then you cleared your throat. 

“As much as I like the whole, post-sex cuddle. We need to talk about what the hell just happened, Joaquin.” 

He groaned, nodding his head as he slowly pulled out of you, pressing soft kisses against your neck as you winced at the feeling. 

“Sorry baby, I know—shit I’m sorry.” He spoke softly while moving back, eyes trailing your face as you clenched your jaw and hissed, back arching uncomfortably. As soon as he pulled out of you, he was up, on his feet, pulling his jeans back on for a quick second before rummaging through your drawers until he found a box of tissues and an unopened water bottle.

You sat up on your elbows, brows knit together as you watched him. Then he was sliding your legs open, a breathy “fuck—missed seeing this” leaving his lips before he was gently cleaning you up, touches featherlight as he did his best to take care of you.

“Stop staring at me like I have three heads, you know I always do this for you after we have sex.” He spoke without even looking up at you, now focused on cleaning up your thighs, tossing the used tissues into a small trash can he also dragged over. 

“Yeah but we don’t have sex anymore, and we’re not together—so you really don’t need to do this.” You spoke softly, confusion evident in your tone while you looked at him. 

Joaquin rolled his eyes, raising a single brow as he finally met your eyes. “So I’m supposed to fuck the woman I’m in love with and leave her a jumbled, fucked out mess on the couch? Over the past eight months have you just been dating assholes or something?” 

You blinked a few times, now sitting up, arms crossed over your chest—trying to cover yourself as if he hadn’t seen you before. Joaquin handed you the shirt you’d been wearing before, one of his older worn out U Miami t-shirts that you’d stolen a month into dating him. You mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ before slipping it on. 

“And before you start thinking too hard, the way you always do. Yes I said I’m in love with you, I’ve never stopped loving you, and I know why you broke up with me. It was valid, and I don’t think I was ever really mad at you for it. I love you, without a single doubt in my mind, I love you. It didn’t take that weird sex plant for me to know that, I’ve known it since the day you punched me in the face.”

You blinked a few times, brows knit together. “I punched you on the plane leaving Madripoor because you scared the shit out of me!” 

“Exactly. Why the hell do you think I chased after you for so long? Because I just had a crush on you. I feel like we’ve had this talk before. What matters now is I tell you, I’m in love with you. I like to annoy you because I think you look pretty when you’re irritated with me.”

He paused, looking around for his shirt, brows knit together at the realization that it wasn’t there.

“I’m not sure if it’s safe to go back out there—but anyways. I like spending my time with you, I choose desk duty sometimes just to be around you, even if it makes you mad. I know you don’t hate me, not when you were whimpering that you loved me while we’re fucking in missionary of all positions.” 

Joaquin spoke with his hands, the sight made you laugh, then you bit your lip, trying to remain serious. He easily caught on to you laughing at him, shaking his head slightly.

“So, since we’re both on the same page—being you’re totally in love with me and I’m totally in love with you. I think we should go on a date tomorrow, give us a second shot?” 

You smiled at him, rolling your eyes. “Only if you promise not to chew on my pens anymore.” 

He scoffed. “Hell no! I can’t promise that, it’s a habit, besides, your pens are the perfect kind of plastic for it.”

“You’re such a child Joaquin!” You were full on laughing now, shaking your head at him.

“Okay, at least I can admit to having childish habits, little miss I still wear clothes I stole from my ex-boyfriend. Wait—did you ever wear my clothes around other guys?!” 

You rolled your eyes at him, now standing up and heading back into the main area of the lab, ignoring his protests as you looked around, now noticing a minor glitter in the air—but nothing as major as before. The plant itself looked calmer, as if it fulfilled its purpose and was now lying dormant again.

You were quick to collect your clothes and his, tossing it at him while he followed you around.

“Well! I need an answer baby, I’ll be heartbroken if any other losers got to see how sexy you look in my clothes!” 

You rolled your eyes, walking back into your office space as Joaquin followed suit, now pulling his shirt on.

“Joaquin Torres, do you really think I dated anyone over the time that we were broken up?” 

He shrugged as you turned to face him. “I dunno, maybe you tried the whole ‘get over one person, get under another’ thing. But you’re not really good at casual sex—I mean look at how we ended up.” 

You scoffed, shoving him. He was right though, the entire reason your relationship with Joaquin had ever started was because you were both drunk and decided to hook up on a random night, from there, casual sex quickly turned into something that wasn’t casual whatsoever.

“So that’s a no then? Good because I thought I was a desperate loser for holding onto the hope that I’d be able to win you back.” He pulled you against him, hands on your waist as he looked at you, a wide smile on his face. “You’re it for me baby.”

You rolled your eyes again, smiling before kissing him.

Then a loud shout caught your attention, both of you pulling away from one another at the sound of Sam and Bucky arguing over the mess in the lab.

“What the hell happened here?!” 

A scoff followed by, “Well Buck, maybe if you listened to me instead of leaving all of the weird shit we find on missions out in the open, there wouldn’t be glass all over the ground and that freaky ass plant sitting there.”

When Sam and Bucky came into sight, both of them paused, eyes wide as they noticed you and Joaquin’s disheveled appearance, the pile of clothing on the small coffee table in your usual office, and the very evident bruises along Joaquin’s throat.

“I told you it was a damn sex plant! Bruce said to burn it! Now look, those two were getting freaky on camera! Jesus Christ—” Sam turned his gaze from Bucky to you and Joaquin, voice louder now “You two, pull the last few hours of footage from in here and burn it! I don’t need to be traumatized tonight.”

Bucky sighed, patting Sam on the back as they started walking out.

“I’m glad you two made up!” was the last thing you heard before the lab doors shut again.

“If those two ever got stuck in a situation like this, who would break first? Sam or Bucky?” Joaquin glanced in their direction, then back at you while wiggling his brows.

“I’d say Bucky definitely, he’s touch starved—he’d be all over Sam. Now onto important subjects, where are you taking me for our date?”

Joaquin smiled, kissing you again. “Wherever you want.”