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#and i have high hopes for Ripe
myownparadise96 · 11 months
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designernishiki · 1 year
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ladies and gentlemen. we got em
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freepaleatine95 · 1 month
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Please stop and listen to our painful story and help me save my family
Help me get my father and mother out and secure their lives
“The tent was their only shelter. Its winter wall was made of threadbare fabric that did not protect them from the cold or the summer heat. Inside, they lay on a thin mattress, two beaten corpses. My father and mother still suffered from diabetes and high blood pressure. They woke up every day to The sound of chronic pain and dreams that relax with every breath.
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@palestinegenocide @riding-with-the-wild-hunt
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@magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @marnota
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@zombzgutzz @everythingfox @catcrumb
@catherinebronte @90-ghost @amosnaomi
@amanita-rubescens @quadruple-agent
@catasters @nabulsi @fairfieldfarmer @sar-soor
@el-shab-hussein @palestinegenocide
@northgazaupdates @ibtisams-deactivated20240709
@commissions4aid-international @communistchameleon @fallahifag @ripe
@rainbowgazes-archive @cottoncandiescupcakes @soulmvtes
@ms-mxyzptlk @thenewgothictwice
@thishartominefeelz
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coco-loco-nut · 5 months
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Revelations
pairing: Daniel x reader
summary: Daniel casually mentions his wife after 11 YEARS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Danny Ric comeback. 2025 season, he is back on rbr
request are open pookie masterlist part 2
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Being an engineer for Red Bull was something else. You have been with them since you graduated college, and truthfully you never want to leave, the team is your family, having been with them for 11 years.
You met your husband through your job, both starting at the ripe old age of 23, and despite the potential HR violations, Christian Horner practically set the two of you up on a date after being oblivious about each other’s crushes. Thus began Red Bull’s best kept secret.
“Happy 10 years, Danny,” you kiss your husband, him watching you analyze data. Christian made him promise to never use you as a mole, and the two of you very quickly agreed. Even when he was on Renault and McLaren, work talk was kept quiet. Daniel had a great season last year and was brought back to Red Bull Racing, Christian promoted you to be his race engineer, knowing Daniel would listen to you.
“Happy 10 years, my love,” he hugs you tight. Your children are home in Australia with their grandparents for the weekend.
“Good morning, Ricciardos. Happy wedding anniversary,” Christian greets you, sitting for the pre-race meeting. Christian celebrates your wedding anniversary almost as much as you do, but he is a part of the family. He officiated your wedding at this track 10 years ago today, and he is the godfather of your eldest.
“Good morning, I printed out some data sheets so we can determine strategy. I noticed some unusual tyre degradation, while it could be from the unusually high track temperatures yesterday, it is something we should plan for today,” you start, passing out the papers. Daniel will never not be able to admire you. Sometimes he misses what people say because he stares at you, the exact reason Christian helped get you two together.
“Let’s grab some coffee then go on a track walk,” Daniel holds his hand out to you after the strategy meeting, you happily take it. After your lap around the track, you meet with the other engineers while Daniel warms up and does media. As you are watching the F2 race for valuable data, someone from PR comes over to you.
“Watch this clip,” she says and you oblige.
Daniel, you seem in better spirits than usual, care to share?
I don’t know mate, I am usually a pretty happy person.
Here I was thinking that maybe you finally had a girlfriend
Nah, I don’t think my wife would be happy about that… I wasn’t really supposed to say that. If you are watching, sorry! I’ll make it up to you, love.
Well, I hope there isn’t a couch in your future. Good luck today.
Thanks, but she’s put up with me for 11 years, I doubt there will be a couch in the future.
“Oh, he might have the couch tonight,” you laugh a little, honestly surprised it took 11 years for him to accidentally say something.
“Looking back at all the photos, he is wearing a wedding ring, how did we not see that?” You hear one of the Mercedes drivers say outside the garage.
“You saw the video?” Daniel asks as you playfully glare at him.
“I did. I have a winning strategy for you, so maybe you can move off the couch tonight. Lose and you stay there longer,” you tease. Being his race engineer helps so much because you can subtly say things and no one picks it up, and any interactions between you seem normal.
“Yes, Mrs. Ricciardo,” he smiles and goes to get changed for the race.
Last car in, good luck Daniel
I don’t need luck, I have you guiding my race
Ok, Daniel, whatever you say
The strategy works out well, and planning for the hotter heat was a smart move. Christian hasn’t told you not to race with Max, so you push Daniel for the overtake.
“Come on, honey badger,” you whisper. Daniel has had the better strategy and better pacing, all day so he easily overtakes and keeps the lead through the final five laps.
Okay Daniel, last lap, Verstappen behind, keep the pace.
Does this mean I’m off the couch?
Focus.
Sorry.
And that’s P1, P1 very good, Daniel. Red Bull 1-2. You are officially off of the couch.
LET’S GO! Thank you team! I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Thanks for the brilliant strategy, and for letting me off the couch. Best wife ever.
Mhmm. Happy 10 years. Parc Ferme is clear for you, pull in so the team can celebrate.
Let’s just say that F1 TV streaming your radio broke the internet, and the drivers when they all got out of their cars and into the garages. You followed the team to wear Daniel was parking and the team pushed you to the front. Daniel celebrated there with the team, taking his helmet off and kissing you. The team wolf whistles around you.
“Go to the podium, we will celebrate with you there,” you push him in the direction of where he needs to go. Unknowingly to Daniel, Red Bull chooses you to represent them for the Constructors Trophy.
“Mate, how did you keep that a secret?” Oscar asks Daniel in the debrief room.
“It wasn’t much of a secret. Everyone in Red Bull knows most of the relationship,” Max says and Daniel nods along.
“Honestly, I don’t know how people didn’t know,” Daniel laughs. The FIA tells them to start heading out to the Podium and Daniel searches the crowd for you when he steps out, but can’t find you. He’s shocked but extremely delighted when you step out and stand beside Oscar for the Constructors trophy. The mischievous glint in his eye is a loud warning that you will be sprayed with champagne. You happily stand through the national anthems, clap when Daniel is handed the trophy, and beam with joy as you are handed the second trophy. Soon enough you are presented with champagne and the go ahead to spray it is given.
“Max!” you squeal and hide behind him as you both spray Daniel.
“Quit hiding my wife!” Daniel laughs and in a split second, your cover is gone as Max moves to spray Oscar. You and Daniel both pour the champagne in each other’s mouth.
“Ew, that’s almost as bad as if you guys were to kiss,” Max laughs. Daniel gives you a devilish smile, pulling you close to him and capturing you lips with his.
“The kids are going to be so grossed out,” you laugh and Oscar looks almost horrified.
“THE KIDS?!”
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sundrop-writes · 20 days
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BRAINWASHED
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Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)
Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .
Summary:
Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.
So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.
Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.
Word Count: 8,000
Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.
A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!
...
Stiles was hopeless. 
That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless. 
He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least. 
Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life. 
Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long. 
See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.  
But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman. 
It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy. 
Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them. 
That night, you had become his hero. 
And since then, you had been the only object of his affections. 
Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so. 
In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship. 
The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature. 
So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy. 
So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms. 
Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack. 
Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you. 
Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you. 
And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway. 
But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you. 
He tried not to act like it. 
But on nights like this, it was just so hard. 
Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade. 
Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison. 
But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’. 
And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade. 
But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you. 
Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time. 
Again - he was hopeless. 
Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes. 
With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin. 
Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him. 
A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch. 
How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.) 
Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites. 
The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried. 
It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it. 
Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns. 
“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-” 
Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet. 
You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying. 
“Y/N, uh-” 
He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat. 
“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.” 
“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!” 
Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him. 
“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding. 
You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand. 
“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically. 
Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued. 
“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.” 
Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen. 
“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep. 
“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.” 
Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place. 
When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration. 
“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.” 
This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench. 
The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries. 
And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you. 
When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter. 
“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again. 
“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter. 
You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead. 
“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke. 
But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds. 
He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly. 
“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock. 
He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too. 
“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste. 
“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him. 
“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed. 
(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.) 
“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch. 
He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment. 
There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual. 
And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day. 
He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet. 
Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.) 
“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. 
“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice. 
His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years? 
“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers. 
Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day. 
“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.” 
He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out. 
“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments. 
Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him. 
He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration. 
“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!” 
Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why. 
As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh. 
He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?” 
The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret. 
Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot. 
He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies. 
Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count. 
He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock. 
In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt. 
Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front? 
But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home. 
He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him. 
… 
When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged. 
His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you. 
His little secret piece of you. 
He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis. 
Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild. 
He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for. 
He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle. 
This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him. 
Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain. 
Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game. 
He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win. 
So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this. 
He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real. 
He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out: 
“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.” 
And what else could he do but obey? 
So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on. 
He was a man of simple, divine tastes. 
So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric. 
“Stiles, please.” 
He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life. 
And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-
Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers. 
He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in. 
He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain. 
He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work. 
He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you. 
He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties. 
When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask: 
“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?” 
But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh. 
And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-
(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.) 
You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say: 
“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.” 
Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm. 
He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now. 
He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state. 
Though he knew that would never fucking happen. 
If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though. 
Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow. 
He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like. 
You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone. 
Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole. 
But what would they smell like? 
He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him. 
He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination. 
He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you. 
He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live. 
He could always imagine the other aspects so well. 
He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness. 
But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried. 
He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness. 
He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too. 
Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you. 
He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out. 
It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips. 
“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.” 
These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly. 
In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock. 
“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.” 
Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer. 
“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.” 
In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind. 
He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it: 
Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do. 
“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.” 
He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy. 
“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-” 
“Cum for me, Stiles.” 
Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him. 
Fuck. He had fucked up. 
You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition. 
… 
Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean. 
The only problem? 
Hang to dry. 
He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition. 
… 
The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early. 
“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.” 
“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn. 
You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today. 
Focus, Stiles. Focus. 
“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him. 
“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why? 
“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke. 
But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought. 
You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole. 
If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences. 
“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him. 
He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find. 
“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”
“Everything.” 
Stiles groaned.
...
A/N: Yes, there is a sequel for this fic in my drafts. It is something that I worked on during my hiatus. It's 10k long, and it's pretty much done.
If you would like to see the sequel edited and posted in a timely manner, I would like to see at least 30 reblogs and 25 comments on this fic - in the form of replies or anon asks.
102 people liked the preview for this fic and I know a lot of people are interested in it, so I am only asking for a 1/4 of the people who liked the preview to interact this fic before I release the sequel. But please, keep comments to the content of this fic rather than just asking for the next part to be released.
If you want to be tagged in the next part, you can ask to be put on my Teen Wolf taglist by interacting with this post, but please know that if you don't follow my taglist rules, you will be removed from the taglist promptly. If that happens, you are still welcome to read and enjoy future fics, you just won't be included in my taglists ever again.
Happy reading, and I hope you enjoyed the fic!!
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smutoperator · 6 months
Text
Love In An Elevator
Jo Hyewon (Zoa) x Male Reader
Tags: big tits, DSLs, elevator sex, facefucking, facial, fast-paced blowjob, first date, girlfriend, high-intensity sex, jerking off, long legs, pussy eating, restaurant, (lots of) riding, (lots of) spitting, teen, titfucking, visual
Word count: 4924
Zoa is a hidden gem. Her visuals are stunning. Beautiful deer-esque face, long legs, big and ripe boobs—she's got everything. You couldn't believe it when she accepted your proposal to date her. There might be idols who are more famous than her, but to you, she was the prettiest, without question.
You took Zoa to your favorite top-rated restaurant on your first date, wanting to impress her. Zoa gushed at your proposal, feeling really lucky she got to have a boyfriend who would take her to the best places and enjoy experiences she thought she never would.
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When Zoa was eating, you couldn't stop staring at her; she was just so stunningly beautiful that she demanded all of your attention at all times. But one part of her body caught your attention the most: her big and ripe boobs under her white shirt, which made it very easy for you to see. Zoa may be just an 18-year-old teenager, but her mature personality also shows off in her sexy body, with her already having the features of a fully grown adult woman. And to you, none were more noticeable than her tits.
"Let's share this moment," Zoa said, running towards the restaurant's elevator to take a picture of herself. After she was done, she sent you the selfie. You were disappointed you couldn't see her striking face, covered by her phone, but the other parts of her body looked better than ever, as you drooled over how her navel was popping out just above her jeans and how long her legs were as she took a full-body shot at the elevator. You still couldn't believe this girl was your girlfriend; she just looks so pretty. You, for sure, would go to all lengths for her. Zoa is really that girl.
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After you paid both their restaurant bills, you two entered the elevator, where she had just shared her picture, and left the restaurant. "What did you think of today's date, Zoa?" you asked her. "It was really great; I feel so overwhelmed by the way you were so kind to me and treated me like a princess," she replied. "Well, you are indeed a princess and the most beautiful woman in the whole world," you complimented her.
The elevator door closed as the machine started to go up, and you two continued to chat. The way Zoa laughed caught your attention the most; she truly had the cutest laugh you had ever heard. However, the happy mood between both of you was about to change in a hurry, as the elevator lights started to falter and suddenly the machine came to a halt.
"I'm scared," Zoa told you, as the elevator was now stuck and only the emergency lights were working. "Don't be; we'll be out of here soon," you said, trying to calm her. "I hope so; I don't like being trapped with nowhere to go," Zoa said. "I'll make sure this will go by quickly," you told her.
Easier said than done; you guys had been trapped for a while in the elevator after you said those words. The once calm and collected Zoa was starting to lose her cool, and you were running out of ways to keep your girlfriend calm. The hugs and kisses you gave her just didn't work anymore, and you could see the first tears forming in her eyes. You needed something better.
"It's getting really hot inside here; I'm starting to have a panic attack," Zoa told you. These words set your alarm bell off. You had to act quickly. At the same time, Zoa looked hotter than ever in that white shirt and jeans. But if she was feeling so much heat, you had found a solution to cool her down.
You took Zoa's jeans off, leading her at first to instantly react and cover her beautiful legs. "What are you doing, baby?" she asked. "You said it was getting too hot, so I'm helping you," you told her as you also started taking your shirt off. Zoa provided a helpful hand, and soon you were naked from the torso up while she was from her legs down.
You kept advancing on Zoa's tall, sexy body, aiming next at the spot that had taken most of your attention at the restaurant: her big and still-growing tits, sucking the area around them with her clothes still on. Meanwhile, you reached into her lower backside, running your hands all over her ass and taking her panties off. Your bulging erection under your pants was already touching the entrance of her pussy, making her moan for the first time.
More kisses ensued before you lifted Zoa's shirt slightly up, unveling her sexy belly button as you started fingering your hands all over her young pussy. With just a couple fingers inside, you were impressed by how warm and tight her hole was. You two kept kissing each other as you kept running your left hand in her legs and pussy, while she placed her right hand straight at your already throbbing boner.
Zoa increased her soft and angelic moans as you inserted a third finger in her vagina, getting louder as you started going up and down her tight pussy with them. Her legs closed around them, and she started sweating a little before you took them off her hole.
Next, you took Zoa's white shirt off, with her already unhooking her bra for you to get easier access to her big, young tits. Zoa may be the one called the giant baby, but you were the one acting like a baby, sucking her milkers in a way you had never done to your mother's. You had never seen such firm and ripe boobs like hers; truly, there isn't a single part of Zoa's body that isn't visually striking.
You kept bombarding Zoa's right boob with suckings and kisses while running your hands all over her left tit before pinning her against the elevator wall and groping both of them, leading to her giving you the biggest smile since you two had started dating. Zoa was now completely naked and submissive to you; her natural body was beautiful from head to toe, with no flaws whatsoever.
As Zoa's nipples got erect from your stimulation, you moved down her hot body, exploiting other areas. At first, you sucked the bottom of her boobs before giving a long lick between them, starting all the way down her navel and going all the way up her chest. You repeated this move multiple times, each time getting longer until you licked her from her pussy up to her mouth. Zoa being roughly the same height as you helped a lot, as once you were finished, you just needed to go down a little bit to suck her perky tits once more.
You go on your knees as Zoa spreads her left leg and her toe on the opposite wall of the elevator, while her hands hold the support with all her might as you start eating her out. After your fingers, it's your tongue that gets to know how warm Zoa's pussy is, with her enjoying every second of it as her moans get more and more frequent. 
You run your tongue all over Zoa's pink teen pussy, exploiting her folds to the fullest. You start wondering which lips are better, the ones in her mouth or the ones between her legs, as you worship her pussy and move your tongue faster and faster over it. Zoa gets overwhelmed by the speed at which you eat her folds out, turning herself into a moaning machine as you keep going on.
You start making different moves all over Zoa's pussy, kissing it and spitting on it as well. But as she gets wetter inside, your urge to fuck her pussy grows. But first, you go back to do so with your fingers, making her squirt her teen juices all over them. "Oh Shit," Zoa curses and finally says something. As you simultaneously tongue her clit while penetrating her, her moans get louder, and she almost loses her balance. Sensing she is getting wetter and warmer, you increase the pace of your finger-fucking, pushing your beautiful girlfriend to the limit.
"Fuck. AHHHHH!" Zoa screams as you go full-speed with both your hands and mouth. Her pink pussy had never been stimulated like this before, as she has to use all her strength in that confined space she finds herself in not to fall down. But you don't stop, twisting your fingers inside Zoa's pussy and keeping an eye out for different angles to attack her warm hole before pulling out and going all-in with your mouth as you grab her legs and pin her down even further against the elevator wall.
You reach for Zoa's left boob as you keep eating her out. Her soft milkers are perfect for getting groped and honked hard, and her nipples are harder than ever. "Please, please," Zoa begs as you show no signs of slowing down, worshipping her hot body and especially her warm pussy. 
"Yes, oh fuck," Zoa says as you move your fingers back inside her pussy, which is now a dripping wet mess. "Yes, keep going," she continues as she closes her eyes, her athletic figure trembling as you put her close to cum with just your hands and mouth. "Oh my God, shit" she continues as you finger-fuck her faster than ever, panting and moaning and grabbing her boobs, just trying to survive your early attacks.
You kiss and worship Zoa's perfect pussy, now also fondling her tits at the same time, paying extra attention to her nipples as you touch them nonstop. You then attack her clit with your tongue, challenging Zoa to stay with her leg up as you see her body shaking harder than ever. Zoa tries not to lose her breath, her body aching with pleasure at each tonguing you give her. But she can't last for long, as you go back with all your four fingers inside her, twisting them all over her pussy and finally making her cum for good.
As Zoa releases her juices out of her pussy, you worship it with tons of kisses, then move up her body to lick her fit belly, giving special attention to her navel. As you fully get up to kiss her and grope her big tits, Zoa starts unhooking your belt and taking more initiative, quickly unleashing your big cock out of your pants.
Zoa gets on her knees and furiously sucks your dick. You can tell she's not that experienced, going very aggressive on your shaft and popping it in and out of her mouth. But that's not important to you, as her mouth is even warmer than her pussy and watching that doe-eyed deer with those amazing dick sucking lips work on that prick is extremely hot. Zoa keeps licking your shaft and sucking your tip hard, her lips fully wrapped around your pole as her head starts bobbing. "Keep sucking it, keep sucking it," you tell her as she looks up and gives you a naughty stare and jerks your shaft, driving you insane with her speed. She puts just the tip inside her mouth, but that's enough to send shivers down your spine.
Zoa gets sloppier and bobs her head deeper against your cock. "Oh yes." You approve of her blowjob skills just as she gags and opens her big eyes, spitting on that dick shortly after. Her fast-paced work on your cock continues as she jerks it off frenetically before using her mouth to warm your shaft up, bobbing hard as one of her hands grabs your thighs and the other grabs your balls.
As Zoa gags on your cock, a string of saliva connects her DSLs to your throbbing tip. Your relief is short as she goes back to attack, doing to your cock what you did to her pussy: licking, sucking, throating, spitting, and using every move she knows. It's even better when she does all that with her big eyes wide open, staring at you, as you can watch her sexy empressions while sucking you off.
You can't resist for long, grabbing Zoa's head to start fucking her face as your cock rips through her DSLs, tying her hair up with your own hands to see more of her beautiful face gagging on that dick and her doe eyes rolling out of pleasure. As soon as Zoa coughs on your cock, you rattle it inside her mouth, hitting her warm walls left and right before she finally pulls out of it and gives a massive spit on your shaft, going back right after as you grab her hair and dunk her face against your balls multiple times, teaching her not to be such an aggressive cock-sucking whore as you spit in her mouth right after.
Zoa makes a mess out of your cock as the facefucking continues, her chin full of saliva that drips out of her mouth as she gets sloppier and sloppier and turns your dick into a wet mess of spit. Now it's your turn to get aggressive, as you grab her head hard and thrust inside her mouth as if you were pounding her pussy full speed, moving your hips at a fast pace as you place your right foot right at the elevator wall, and splitting her dick sucking lips open with no room for any air to enter her mouth.
After rattling your cock inside her mouth once more, you kiss Zoa passionately, tasting her sloppy and cock-flavored mouth to the fullest. Zoa kept jerking you off as you were doing it, and as soon as you pulled out of her mouth, she got back into her aggressive cock-sucking, trying to prove to you she could be your cute-looking, slutty girlfriend. "Holy shit," you said as Zoa engulfed your balls and took your cock full length in her mouth for a few seconds before her lack of experience did her in and made her gag and get out of breath. And every time she pulled out of your cock, she spat on it, quickly turning it into her signature move.
Zoa kept bobbing hard on your cock and filling it full of saliva. You couldn't complain, as you weren't going to need any lube to enter her tight, warm pussy soon after, just letting her do it as she pleased and getting your cock wet and sloppy. "Bad girl," you said as you got back to fuck her face, and once she gagged, you gave it a lot of slapping with your dick, showing her who was the real boss. "You really like to spit on that cock, don't you, you tall young whore?" you asked her, noticing how often she did it.
As Zoa got up, still jerking your cock off, you spat in her mouth. "You are getting too slutty for my liking," you poke at her, even though you really enjoyed it. "Now turn around," you say as you pin her against the elevator wall. Zoa knows what's coming, lifting her long left leg once again and placing her left foot and right hand on the elevator's handrail. In just a couple seconds, your wet cock easily slides inside her tight teen pussy. "Oh fuck, oh shit" Zoa says as she feels your shaft penetrating her.
Knowing she had already shown how much of a whore she is, you give Zoa no room to breathe, attacking her tight pussy hard from the start and kissing her as you pump her warm hole. "Ah, ah, ah, ah," Zoa softly moans as you turn her into your cocksleeve, fingering herself to get that extra pleasure, now holding both hands against the handrail to take the pounding you are giving her. "FUCK!" she screams as her cheeks start to clap and you grab her tiny waist for a better grip, manhandling her pussy full speed. "SHIT," she keeps screaming as you get addicted to her pussy and can't stop fucking her hard. Even though her insides are perfect, Zoa is truly a flawless woman, the daughter of Venus, the goddess of love.
Zoa has a hard time staying up in just one foot; you fuck her so hard she has to cling onto every support of the elevator, which itself starts to swing a little with the force of your rough poundings on her. "Yes, oh yes, oh yes," she says as you spank her ass and show no signs of slowing down. You had never fucked a girl on your first date, and the thought of fucking her in such an unconventional space turned you on a lot.
"Shit, you're fucking me so hard; don't stop," Zoa told you. And no, you were not going to stop. If it depended on you, that elevator would never go back to work again, and you'd just fuck Zoa to eternity. As you start groping her tits and add extra stimulation, Zoa spreads her cheeks to ease the pressure on her already tightening walls that you kept shaping to the format of your cock.
Zoa's left leg finally gives in as she places it back on the ground, giving you a better angle to grab her butt and hold it as you keep fucking her, now in a standing doggy position that made her look so submissive and slutty, as her vocabulary got reduced to just three words: fuck, shit, and yes.
You kept spreading Zoa's ass cheeks and pumping her warm pussy hard while also grabbing her hair and making those cheeks clap at each thrust, discovering how quickly a teen pussy can turn into an addiction that can make even the calmest men turn into raging animals who furiously pound them. Zoa gets firmly grabbed by the waist as you destroy her fuckhole nonstop, testing how hard this young whore could take your big cock fucking the shit out of her. Meanwhile, Zoa's big, ripe melons are now swinging hard, giving you the perfect opportunity to grope them and feel how hard they try to escape from your grasp every time you pound her.
Zoa regains her strength and lifts her leg up again, allowing your cock to penetrate her even easier. She gets very needy and clingy, turning her cute face in your direction and hugging you as you are still fucking her hard, looking for you to kiss her as much as you can. As much as Zoa may love your cock, she loves your touch and kisses even more, and she just wants to be a good girlfriend. And you give her what she wants: kisses up top, dick at the bottom, making the elevator make a lot of noise as you two hit its walls with your intense fucking.
As you're finally done pounding Zoa, she turns around and gives you a torrid kiss. "Am I a good girlfriend?" she ponders in her head. But you don't give her many seconds to think, instantly lifting her body up and pinning her back against the elevator's wall, forcing her to hold both hands hard into the handrail as you fuck her in a face-to-face position with both her feet up in the air.
"Oh yeah," Zoa says as she fingers her pussy and her feet reach the wall on the other side, landing close to the elevator's buttons. You truly couldn't do this position with a girl shorter than her, feeling blessed for Zoa being so tall and perfect for it.
"You don't get to have it so easy," you tell her, placing her right leg over your shoulder instead and pressing her even further against the wall, giving her a rough but very passionate missionary fucking that sends her over the moon, with Zoa giving you a kiss every time she's not moaning like a submissive slut. "AHHHHH!" Zoa's loud screams come along with the loud noises of her body banging against the elevator's wall as she gets ragdolled and enjoys it to the fullest.
It turns out such a position ends up being too demanding, not only for her but for you as well, as you get Zoa back on her feet and compensate her with another passionate kiss. This time, you let her fully spread her legs and hook them to opposite sides of the elevator, giving you the perfect view of her body, but especially her face, tits, pussy and thighs as you resume fucking her, now with one hand grabbing her head to kiss her and another groping her tits.
Zoa gets increasingly clingy, hugging you and pushing your body even closer to hers. She wants your touch, your cock, to be your cute girlfriend but also your slutty fucktoy. As the hard pounding finally starts to get you tired, you decide to try something different: lying on the elevator's floor as you look up at her goddess-esque tall body, sliding just under her long legs.
You don't even need to give a command; Zoa already knows what to do. She moves a couple steps and squats down your cock, letting herself get fully impaled. At first, you think of telling her to turn around to see her face as she rides you, but as soon as Zoa starts clapping those cheeks against your hips, you feel very appreciative of the back view she gives you, enjoying her beautiful long hair, her toned ass, and her sexy back to the fullest.
Zoa shows no mercy for your cock, riding it hard from the start. "OH MY GOD," she suddenly finds herself screaming, but doesn't slow down. She wants to prove to herself that she can tame any cock. Her moans get louder and screamier as you grind your teeth, trying to hold as hard as you can not to shoot inside her warm hole. Her tits get very bouncy, but you can't see them, and she uses the handrail to her advantage, holding onto it as she keeps bouncing on your cock.
"Wow, I never knew you could ride a dick like that," you tell her. Truth be told, not even Zoa did. Her moves are very spontaneous, the ones of a girl still discovering the pleasures and intrincacies of sex. At times, your cock feels like it's too much for her still-young and unexperienced self, but she's a strong girl ready to blossom and won't stop. The more she feels challenged, the more she wants to ride you, and the harder she goes.
Zoa stays on course; she knows that the elevator won't be turned off for long and wants to bounce as many times on your cock as she can. She starts fingering her pussy, getting wetter, and allowing your prick to slide up and down her easier. "Ah, God," she moans, riding it as fast as she can. The more you hit her sensitive cervix, the better.
You can't be just a bystander to Zoa's pleasure and decide to teach her a lesson, lifting both her legs up and regaining control of the pounding. "Oh yeah," Zoa says as you start pumping her hard back again and destroying her pussy, which has become an addiction to you. The warmth of her hole makes you go feral once more, pounding Zoa balls deep and making your cock fully disappear inside her vagina. It turns out she really likes it rough, as her cunt gets much juicer the moment you go back to manhandle her.
Zoa's pussy burns and clenches all over your cock, forcing you to pull out quickly after just a couple minutes of pounding not to cum inside her. Maybe you need to take it slow. As she turns around, she goes back to sitting on that cock, allowing you to have a full frontal view of her perfect body. "Just ride it as hard as you can," you ask her as you spank her ass. Zoa obliges, this time tilting her body as she clings onto yours and bumps her bouncy chest against it.
"GOD!" Zoa screams as you keep hitting her ass and turning it red, but that only makes her increase her intensity and go full speed against your throbbing pole, bouncing on it as if she wants to snap it in half. "Whoa," you say as Zoa now pushes you to the limit—that perfect, tight pussy biting your cock and sliding up and down—is really just too much for you.
You push your cock up Zoa's pink pussy and put a pair of fingers up her asshole, attempting to slow her down, but she won't cave this time. Zoa wants that cock deep in her pussy at all costs and keeps bouncing. Her hair covers her face, she grabs the handrail hard, and one of her hands is now in her ass to provide her with some extra impulse. "Holy shit," you say as Zoa keeps smashing your cock like nothing. You just decide to grab her by the waist and aid her, pushing her body down your shaft with even more speed, even if it makes you give in and cum inside her.
Zoa's tits are like a pair of pinballs bouncing hard as she places her hands on your chest and stares at you. Her doe eyes are fully bright; she hasn't felt this excited in a long time. Even as you push her closer to you and tilt her body sideways, she never stops. "Fuck, fuck, yes, I want that cock deep in my pussy," she tells you as her cheeks make a loud noise, clapping on your balls.
"Bad girl," you say once again as you slap her ass. Zoa agrees; she's a bad girl, a cock-craving slut, and a teen whore. As she pulls out of your cock a little bit, you think her bombardment is over, but after just two seconds, she has already regained strength to sit back on that cock. It's the only thing she wants now: cock, cock, and more cock. "OH. GOD. FUCK. AH. SHIT." These are the only words that come from Zoa's mouth, as she keeps using your chest as an impulse for her crazy bouncing.
More than 10 minutes have passed, and Zoa just doesn't seem to stop. You push up once again and try to challenge her, as one of her hands is still on the handrail while the other holds your body, but Zoa has won the battle. The truth is, you can never challenge a K-pop idol when it comes to stamina. It's futile.
As Zoa finally climbs out of your cock, she still has her hands on it, always jerking it off at every chance she gets. You stand up to kiss her, still recovering from her crazy ride, but she never gets her tiny hands out of that dick, getting on her knees shortly after to taste her pussy from it, her doe eyes looking more focused than ever. With the way she gags on it, takes it deep in her throat, and jerks it off, it's like your ride never ended. But you can't lie, you love how aggressive she is, taking every second of this elevator fuck session as if it were the last. "Oh yes, fuck," you say as Zoa engulfs that pole all the way deep in her throat in a way many seasoned veterans would be unable to.
"Fuck my face again," she says. Suddenly, that little inexperienced teen is long gone, and she is now giving you orders. She should really respect your seniority, shouldn't she? But you said to hell with it and just gave Zoa what she wanted. You just couldn't say no to the most beautiful woman on the planet, grabbing her head and shoving your big cock down those DSLs until she coughs.
You move back to the elevator's floor, and Zoa follows you as you now penetrate her in a spooning position. Romantic kisses up top and hard pumpings at the bottom ensue. One of your hands grabs her boobs, the other her neck. Zoa can only say "yes" at each pumping and moan like a whore, especially after you move your hands down her body all the way into her wet pussy. You have to grab her long legs to go faster, putting her on the edge. Her pussy tightens as you choke her and muffle her moans with your thumb in her mouth.
You keep pumping Zoa nonstop. "Right there, right there," she says before screaming hard as she cums. She then ties her hair up and gets on her knees, placing her big tits right between your dick and moving them up and down your shaft as you passively watch, searching for that cum. "You want my cum, you little whore?" you ask her. "Yes, baby, all over my pretty face," she says, keeping her aggressive titfucking session going. As you were already on the edge, she promptly gets her wish as seven gravity-defying shots cover her beautiful face full of sperm.
Zoa doesn't even get to enjoy the massive cumshot you gave her, as the elevator starts working again shortly after, leading both of you to get dressed in a hurry and act like nothing happened, with her cleaning her face of your cum just in time to emerge out of it.
It's going to be hard to top your first date.
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satellite-evans · 4 months
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Look at the stars
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Benedict and his Y/N spend a joyful day picnicking and stargazing with their children <3
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: tooth aching fluff
A/N:
This was a request from @pear-1206 , I hope I did your request justice, love xx
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The sun was warm and golden, casting a gentle glow over the lush countryside. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the sound of birds chirping merrily. It was the perfect day for a picnic, and Benedict Bridgerton couldn't have been happier to spend it with his wife and children.
Benedict and Y/N had always shared a mutual disdain for the relentless scrutiny of society. From the moment they met, they found solace in each other's company, both preferring the quiet beauty of nature and the simplicity of family life over the pomp and circumstance of high society. Benedict was hopelessly devoted to Y/N, captivated by her spirit and the way she saw the world. She had a way of grounding him, reminding him of what truly mattered.
Today, they had chosen a secluded spot in the picturesque countryside of Kent, a place far enough from their estate to ensure complete privacy. Nestled under the shade of an ancient oak tree, the spot offered a breathtaking view of rolling hills and a gently flowing brook nearby. The grassy field stretched out before them, a sea of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Their children, a boisterous five-year-old boy named Thomas and a giggling two-year-old girl named Violet, were already darting about, chasing butterflies and exploring the wonders of nature.
"Thomas, be careful!" Y/N called out, laughing as their son sprinted after a particularly fast butterfly, his little legs pumping furiously. He stumbled over a small mound of earth but quickly picked himself up, his laughter ringing out across the field. He waved back at his parents with a wide grin, dirt smudging his cheeks.
She turned to Benedict, her eyes sparkling with joy and a hint of motherly concern. "He's going to wear himself out before we've even unpacked the basket."
Benedict smiled, his heart swelling with love as he watched his family. "Let him. It's good for him to have space to run and play." He set down the picnic basket and spread out the blanket, patting the spot next to him. "Come, love. Sit with me."
Y/N joined him, resting her head on his shoulder as they unpacked the basket together. They had prepared all of their favorite foods: fresh sandwiches with a variety of fillings, ripe strawberries, an assortment of cheeses and crackers, a freshly baked loaf of bread, and, of course, a bottle of fine wine. Benedict carefully laid out each item, ensuring everything was in easy reach for their little picnic.
"I can't believe you managed to pack all of our favorites," Y/N said, smiling as she unwrapped a loaf of bread still warm from the oven. "It's like you read my mind."
Benedict chuckled, leaning in to kiss her temple. "I had a little help from our cook, but I wanted today to be perfect for you and the children."
Violet toddled over, her tiny hands reaching for a strawberry, and Benedict handed one to her, laughing as she eagerly bit into it, the juice dribbling down her chin. "Delicious, isn't it, my sweet?" he asked, wiping her chin with a napkin.
Violet nodded, her eyes wide with delight. "More, Papa!" she demanded, holding out her hand for another strawberry.
Benedict obliged, giving her another juicy berry. "Here you go, darling. Enjoy."
Thomas ran back to the blanket, breathless from his adventures. "Mama, Papa, look!" He opened his little fist to reveal a handful of wildflowers. "I picked these for you, Mama."
Y/N's eyes softened as she took the flowers from Thomas. "They're beautiful, Thomas. Thank you." She arranged them into a small bouquet and placed them in a little jar they had brought along. "They add the perfect touch to our picnic."
Thomas grinned, proud of his contribution. "Can we eat now, Papa? I'm starving!"
Benedict laughed, ruffling Thomas's hair. "Of course, my boy. Let's see what we have here." He handed Thomas a sandwich, watching as his son eagerly took a bite.
Y/N began to serve the cheese and crackers, arranging them on a plate. "This cheese is from that little shop in town, isn't it?" she asked, recognizing the distinct aroma.
"Indeed it is," Benedict replied. "I know how much you like it."
She smiled warmly at him. "You always remember the little things."
As they ate, they talked and laughed, sharing stories and memories. Y/N recounted a humorous incident from their last family outing, making Benedict chuckle. "I still can't believe you managed to get us lost in our own backyard," she teased.
Benedict shook his head, a mock expression of horror on his face. "I maintain that it was all part of the adventure."
Thomas piped up, his mouth full of sandwich. "Papa, are we going to play tag later? I want to show you how fast I can run!"
Benedict nodded, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Absolutely. But be warned, Thomas, I’ve been practicing my tag skills. You might not be able to catch me."
Thomas giggled, clearly relishing the challenge. "We'll see about that!"
Violet, not wanting to be left out, clapped her hands and babbled excitedly. "Tag! Tag!"
Y/N laughed, her heart full. "Looks like you have two little competitors, Benedict."
After they finished eating, they played a spirited game of tag. Benedict and Y/N took turns chasing the children, their laughter echoing across the field. Thomas was a blur of motion, his little legs pumping as he dodged and weaved, while Violet toddled around, giggling whenever someone pretended to catch her.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape, they gathered up their things and made their way back home. After a quick supper and baths for the children, they all headed outside again, this time with a blanket and pillows to lie on as they stargazed.
Benedict carried a sleepy Violet in one arm and a basket with their essentials in the other. "Do you think the stars are brighter tonight, or is it just me?" he mused aloud, looking up at the clear night sky.
Y/N smiled, holding Thomas's hand as he skipped alongside her. "Maybe they're shining just for us," she replied, her voice filled with contentment.
The night sky was clear, a tapestry of stars twinkling above them. They spread out the blanket on the grassy hill behind their home, arranging the pillows for comfort. Thomas immediately lay down, pointing up at the sky with excitement.
"Look, Papa! I see the Big Dipper!" he exclaimed, his small finger tracing the constellation.
Benedict chuckled, lying down next to him. "That's right, Thomas. And do you see that bright star over there? That's the North Star. Sailors used to navigate by it."
Thomas's eyes widened with fascination. "Did they use wishing stones too, Papa?"
Y/N laughed, settling Violet in her lap. "I think they relied more on maps and compasses, love. But a wishing stone could come in handy in a pinch."
Violet, still clutching her pebble, looked up at the sky with wide eyes. "Stars! Pretty!"
Benedict pointed out another constellation, his voice a soothing rumble in the stillness of the night. "There's Orion," he said, tracing the shape with his finger. "And over there is the Great Bear."
Thomas stared up in wonder, his small hand clutching the wishing stone. "Can I make my wish now, Papa?"
Benedict nodded, his eyes meeting Y/N's. "Go ahead, son."
Thomas closed his eyes, whispering his wish softly. When he finished, he placed the stone on his chest and sighed contentedly. "Your turn, Mama."
Y/N closed her eyes, holding Benedict's hand as she made her wish. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, her heart full. "Your turn, my love."
Benedict took the stone, closing his eyes. He didn't need to wish for anything; everything he had ever wanted was right here with him. But for the sake of tradition, he made a wish anyway: for endless days like this, filled with love and laughter.
Thomas squirmed, curious. "What did you wish for, Papa?"
Benedict grinned, ruffling his son's hair. "If I told you, it wouldn't come true, would it?"
Thomas pouted playfully. "That's not fair! I bet you wished for more wishing stones."
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Knowing your father, he probably wished for more of your mama's cooking."
Violet clapped her hands, clearly enjoying the banter. "Wish! Wish!"
Benedict leaned over to Y/N, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I actually wished for moments like this to last forever."
She rested her head on his shoulder, her voice soft. "I love you, Benedict Bridgerton."
He kissed her forehead, his heart overflowing with happiness. "And I love you, Y/N Bridgerton. Always."
Thomas, ever the inquisitive one, looked between his parents. "Does that mean you wished for more picnics and stargazing, Papa?"
Benedict chuckled. "Something like that, Thomas. I wished for more time with my favorite people."
Thomas grinned, satisfied with that answer. "I like that wish."
Under the vast, starlit sky, surrounded by the warmth of their family, they knew they had everything they could ever need. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day, and as they drifted off to sleep, they dreamed of many more days just like this. The gentle sounds of the night filled the air, and the stars above seemed to shine a little brighter, as if in agreement with Benedict's silent wish.
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Getting Thrashed
Female Alpha Yandere x Male Omega Reader (CW: Noncon/dubcon, heat cycles, scent kink, pheromones, non-traditional a/b/o dynamics, NO mpreg, enslaved reader, conquered society, general yandere behavior, teasing, biting, claiming, space pirates) Word Count: 3.4k (WOW, sorry that took so long. I started off writing fast because I loved the idea then lost motivation halfway through. Hope you guys enjoy the second female yandere fic I have written and the first one I have written with smut. Also first fic I have written where the reader penetrates the yandere.)
Your day on the space colony of Nithyal started out like any other. You diligently did your assigned work of farming a wide array of essential foods for the colony.
It was pretty vigorous manual labor, but you didn't mind. You rather enjoyed the scent of fresh soil and ripe fruits.
And you were fairly compensated. Everyone was in Nithyal. After all, the colony was on the planet Solstan. And it wasn't called a paradise world for nothing. The weather was agreeable, there were few dangerous animals, and everyone lived harmoniously. No homelessness, no corruption, no hunger, no violence. You were very grateful to live in such a place.
Especially since you were an omega.
Many generations ago, human fertility was greatly diminishing. In a bid to save the species, there were numerous fertility experiments.
One of the most extreme experiments that altered human DNA and psychology the most resulted in two new variants of humans: Alphas and Omegas.
They were both given extreme fertility, but what good is being fertile if you just end up with a barren partner?
So they were both given heightened olfactory senses, with omegas being given genes to produce pheromones that alphas were attracted to and vice versa.
They were also capable of quickly forming intense bonds with their romantic/sexual interests.
But the biggest difference from unaltered humans was that alphas entered ruts and omegas had heats. These periods of ultra high libido were to make sure they were compelled to procreate.
The gene editing was not without unintended consequences.
Alphas tended to be larger, stronger, and more aggressive than normal people, and omegas had a tendency to be smaller and a bit more submissive.
Alphas also tended to be possessive and jealous, even going so far as almost always needing to mark their mate with a permanent bite.
These behavioral concerns lead to the discontinuation of the program. Specifically, concerns about omegas maintaining their agency when faced with such forceful alphas that could easily sniff them out.
Human fertility was restored through more refined gene editing later, with suppressants being developed for the humans already altered and their descendants so they could mask themselves.
Heats and ruts were only partly suppressed, though and it wasn't too hard for someone to discover who was an omega when their life was put on hold in a predictable pattern once every few months.
It wasn't ideal, since most people hated such altered humans.
But Nithyal was different. Everyone just cared about each other and didn't bother with any judgement.
There was no better place in the galaxy.
That was... until the dark day that a pirate fleet came from the deepest reaches of known space to upend everything.
They were called The Eternal Eclipse. And they certainly eclipsed any joy you found in Nithyal.
Your people tried to mount a defense, fighting bravely with the few ships and ground to air weapons that were available, but given their numbers there was no chance of victory.
Your colony was pretty isolated from the rest of civilization so once conquered there was little chance of liberation.
They quickly killed or at least maimed anyone who tried to fight back or organize a rebellion.
The colonists had become little more than slaves.
Many continued the hard labors they had before, with more demand to support the new ruling population, others were forced into personal servitude for the higher up pirates, and a decent chunk of the population became personal fuck toys.
At first, when the pirates had gathered up all of the colonists to assign them their fates, you were mercifully going to continue the work that you had already been doing.
But unfortunately you somehow caught the eye of Thrash and for some reason she had taken a liking to you. So instead of cultivating plants, you were forced to be by her side all day as a simple servant. This probably wouldn’t have been too bad if the violent leader didn’t happen to be, against all odds, an alpha.
You had never met one before but you could tell right away. Her scent, her attitude, the fact that she was larger and stronger than most adult men. She had hair like fire and an energy and attitude to match.
At first you were worried that she had pegged you for an omega, but she gave no indication that she knew. You were in constant fear that your omega nature would be discovered. It wasn't unheard of for omegas to be brutally raped, sold to far off black markets, or even just outright killed. Surely if she had known you wouldn’t just be a personal slave.
It seemed that your suppressants were enough to completely hide yourself from her, and you had a huge supply of them. Though you knew for a fact that once your heat started, your pheromones would poke through. And you’d also be rather horny. Maybe you could feign illness and cover yourself in perfume?
That was probably your best bet. Though you hoped no one would notice that you got ill like clockwork. Luckily you still had plenty of time until your next heat.
Working for Thrash wasn’t too physically demanding, you just had to clean up after her, prepare meals, and do little odd tasks like deliver a note or something to one of her subordinates. You actually got a lot of down time between tasks… though you always had to stay nearby in case Thrash needed something.
The overworked farmers would have surely enjoyed such a relatively cushy work detail, but it was absolute hell for you. It was like walking on eggshells, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Thrash hadn’t treated you poorly, never hit you. But you had no idea how an omega would be treated.
It was especially scary when she decided to tease you, just because she enjoyed watching you squirm.
When she licked your neck in the cafeteria in front of all her dining pirate crew she cackled at how your face turned red and you got as still as a statue as your brain shut down. You were terrified that she could smell or even taste the omega on your skin.
Thrash didn’t really know why but something in her made her love flustering you. She just couldn’t help it. She had always enjoyed making men uncomfortable or putting them in their place, but you were a bit different. It wasn’t like it was with her male pirate colleagues, where she strove to be the best and made them obey her. No, this was different, seeing your face turn red made her hungry for more.
One night she dismissed you with a smack on the ass and let you go to bed while she stayed up drinking with her best buddies. You felt humiliated and rushed off to your room, which was one that was in the house she had claimed for herself in case she needed you for something she wanted you close by. You were really like a live-in maid.
You tidied up a few things before washing up and going to bed, still embarrassed about having your butt touched in public. Despite that you managed to go to sleep pretty quickly.
Though a few hours later a very drunk Thrash comes stumbling in drunk. You wake up with a jolt and nearly jump out of your bed as a strong arm wraps around your waste and firmly pulls you close.
“Mmm where ya goin cutie? Ya need to stay close to yer alpha!”
She lightly grinded into you for a moment, her crotch against your ass before stopping and nuzzling into your neck.
“Thr-Thrash… uh… I think you accident-”
She shushed you by licking your neck and nibbling a bit. You went still as stone. If she broke the skin the special enzymes in her alpha saliva would cause you to have a permanent mark. Fortunately that didn’t happen, instead remaining content with sloppy kisses, sucking, and gentle nibbling.
You couldn’t help but let out a series of little whimpering moans at the sensation. You also became aware of just how nice she smelled. So dominant. Kinda… safe…
She chuckled at your noises.
“Haha, you’re practically a tiny defenseless omega!”
That made you shake the thoughts and distractions from your mind. This woman was not safe. She stole your home and turned you into a glorified slave. If she knew what you were she’d sell you to the highest bidder!
Luckily after that comment she had passed out in a drunken stupor.
You managed to extricate yourself from her grasp before scrambling to get to the restroom. You had to double check to make sure that the bites that Thrash had so kindly applied to your neck had not broken the skin, luckily they hadn’t.
But you still looked absolutely horrible. Your neck was covered in little hickeys, your hair was a mess, and you were so shaky from the rude awakening that you could barely stand.
Something about looking so debauched made your cock hard. Maybe it was because you had her alpha stink all over you or maybe it was something to do with the bites all over your neck. Maybe it was just because you weren’t used to the attention.
It didn’t matter why the result was the same, you had to do something about this almost painful arousal. And the scent that clung to you.
As you got in the shower you gave your cock the attention it was demanding, thinking filthy and shameful thoughts about Thrash. You tried to pleasure yourself to other thoughts but your mind kept drifting back to the oppressor of your people and the way she smelled as she bit and drooled all over your neck.
You couldn’t spill until you imagined her leaving a permanent claiming bite on your neck.
After your shower you felt dirtier than you had before you got in. You reminded yourself that you hated Thrash and that she and her crew had done to upend the lives of you and your people. It wasn’t your fault she made you aroused. What omega wouldn’t have been after that?
After you got dressed and left the bathroom you wrapped your spare blanket around you and slept in the chair in the corner of the room, you would have rather not been in the same room as the drunk alpha, but you had nowhere else you could go.
When Thrash woke up she found you sleeping soundly in the room and it took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in her room. She must have kicked you out of your bed. She did feel kinda bad about it, but she figured you would live. She was the one with the massive headache.
She went back to her quarters, leaving you to sleep a bit longer.
When you woke up you found her, thankfully gone, you wrapped a scarf around yourself to hide your neck, the weather was cool lately so no one should give a second thought to you wearing one. Then you left to start your day of servitude as you did everyday.
Unfortunately for you, you had to accompany her as she went on one of the landed ships to see what the problem was with it since she had originally been a mechanic and engineer. It was very hot in the engine room.
“How are you wearing that scarf? It’s so hot in here.” The heat wasn’t the only problem you were dealing with, she was sweating and only wearing a tank top, allowing her musk to practically smother you.
It didn’t really take all that long for you to get more than a bit dizzy and flustered. And once you were, it took even less time for Thrash to notice, she often kept an overprotective eye on you, though you had rarely noticed.
She came stomping over and looked down at you.
“I told you it was too hot for that! You’re gonna get sick dumbass! Take it off and let’s go outside for some fresh air.”
You fidgeted under her gaze and mumbled that you were okay.
When you didn’t take it off immediately she growled, jerked you over to her, and yanked it off of you.
She stared wide-eyed at your neck, not remembering having put the marks there herself the night before. And she was fucking livid.
“When the fuck did you hook up with someone, you fucking slut!? You belong to ME and I didn’t give you any permission for that shit!”
The enraged alpha slapped you hard across the cheek, making you yelp and stumble to the ground. You were sobbing and could scarcely manage to croak any words out.
“I-i d-d-didn’t l-let anyone d-do-”
Had one of her men defiled you against your will? Defiled HER slave?
“Tell me who did it!! I’ll cut their dick off and shove it up their own ass!”
Her eyes were like a cats, narrow slits. Your naturally submissive instincts told you to put your head down and obey anything the near feral alpha might demand of you.
“Y-you were dr-dr-drunk and b-bit me last night…”
Tears were leaking down your face. If you had not been on suppressants your scent would surely be one of fear mixed with pheromones to calm down this beast.
That’s right, she had woken up with a bad hangover in your room...
Thrash stared at you, at this tiny crying man in front of her, crying and terrified. She felt awful, and she didn’t often feel bad about her actions. She was a pirate, but for some reason she just didn’t like seeing you suffer at all. Certainly not because of her.
“Fuck… I’m… sorry…” She managed to say as she knelt down and rubbed your back.
“I really have no memory of last night...”
The large powerful woman picked you up easily, with your head nuzzled into her neck, crying into her.
“C’mon crybaby, let’s get you cooled off, I’ll deal with this engine later~”
She carried you carefully back to your room in the housing building, collecting odd looks as she did, which she quickly got rid of with a glare each time.
Thrash placed you into your bed and felt your head with the back of her hand. Despite not having the scarf, having been exposed to the cool outside air on the way over here, and now being in an air conditioned room you were hotter than ever.
Your mind was getting foggier and when she left to go get a cool rag and some medicine from the bathroom you finally realized why you were so hot. You were entering heat. The neck stimulation and all of Thrash’s dominant behavior over you must have somehow triggered an early one.
You had to leave before she came back and smelled it. It would only be a matter of moments before the smell broke through your suppressants.
Something in your brain was telling you to just stay there and let your alpha come back and take care of you, but the other much more grounded in reality part of your brain was telling you you had to hide in a utility closet somewhere and deal with the consequences of your absenteeism later. Better than being sold off or raped by every pirate who wants to try out an omega.
Right then you really wished suppressants just completely eliminated heats completely instead of just diluting them a bit.
Right after you had that thought Thrash entered the room and saw you standing by the door, you saw her hand had a bottle of pills. Though her search in your medicine cabinet yielded no fever reducers she found something else hidden away under your sink. Your suppressants.
And then your scent hit her. It was dulled by your medication, but she was an alpha unused to omega pheromones in any capacity.
She growled low and her pupils were like slits as her stare bored into you angrily.
“You’re MY property! And you’re keeping secrets from ME!?”
Before you could stumble out the door she charged at you, picked you up and slammed you down on the bed a bit harder than she had intended. You looked away, unable to meet her domineering and angry gaze. Your only response was to instinctively whimper in submission to placate her rage.
Thrash sniffed you, inhaling your scent from your underarm to your neck. You leaned your head over to give her easier access and show that you submitted to her will. You were terrified and she could certainly smell it.
Some of her drool dripped onto your neck as she hovered above it, licking you tentatively to calm you down. She was going to bite you and make you into her personal fuck toy and mate, she was mad that you had hidden your nature from her, but she would never hurt you.
Thrash sucked and nibbled at the gland in your neck, with you gracing her ears with a new whimpering gasp or moan each time she touched the sensitive spot.
Your terror evaporated quickly, replaced by heat fueled desire. And if you were honest with yourself maybe not all of the yearning was born from your heat.
The lust filled alpha couldn’t help but inhale your scent over and over, it was literally a drug for her. She had already wanted to fuck you into oblivion even before she got a whiff of you in heat, but now there was no stopping herself. Already she couldn’t wait to drink in your smell during your next heat when your suppressants were out of your system.
She made a mental note to flush them after this.
The pirate rubbed your crotch, palming at your erection, getting you even more aroused before she bit your neck. Hard. Her fangs pumping into you something that would make you smell claimed to any other alphas and leaving a large permanent hickey on that portion of your neck.
You moaned out loud in painful pleasure, arching your back and thrusting your clothed arousal into her hand.
Thrash licked your bleeding wound and then turned her attention to your cock and her own pleasure.
You could only stare and writhe in need as she pulled away from you and took off her clothes.
“Gimme a second, I just need to get our clothes off!”
It was the first time you had seen her breasts. You were in awe of this figure above you. So strong and assertive. So beautiful. A perfect partner.
To her you were the beautiful one. So sweet and pretty and perfect put in your place below her.
She practically ripped your clothing off and buried herself back in your neck as she brought herself down on you, enveloping your entire length in the warmth of her cunt. Her hands pushed down your shoulders as she rode you.
Your pleasured moans mixed with her grunts and growls as she fucked you until you saw stars. Your first orgasm was really quick, and was not nearly enough for either of you. Another perk of heats, insatiable libido.
With each of her downward movements you thrust upwards, desperate to get as deep as possible, the scent of her aroused pheromones combined with your heat making you absolutely unable to care about anything else.
You didn’t care that she had conquered your people or that she controlled them. In this state it only made her stronger in your eyes. A more suitable mate. You wanted to fill her up with so many babies.
The sex lasted hours, until the both of you were too sore to keep moving. It finally ended with you clinging to her and using her tits as a pillow with her arm wrapped around your protectively.
When the fog of pheromones and heat left your brain you were horrified by what had happened. But if you weren’t owned by her before, the new mark on your neck meant you certainly were now, and she would never let you go.
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flowercrowngods · 1 year
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this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)
When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne. 
No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear. 
His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths. 
Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.
Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who— 
Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave. 
But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help. 
They most certainly sound like they do.
With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much. 
“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops. 
Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath. 
“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well.  “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.” 
There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.
What the fuck is happening? 
He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision. 
And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?
Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!” 
He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one. 
Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared. 
It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.
But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.
His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!
“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."
He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting. 
Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?” 
But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now. 
He doesn’t. 
Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should— 
“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react. 
A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.” 
Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort. 
Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington. 
Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now. 
Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.
Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time. 
He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.
“Munson?” 
Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie! 
“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away. 
Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way. 
“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign. 
Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he— 
The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts. 
“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.
“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.” 
A beat. “Everywhere.” 
Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.” 
“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.” 
He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?” 
“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“ 
He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?
Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech. 
“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.
What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?
What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.
Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what. 
“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”
Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now. 
“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”
Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.
“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.
And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right? 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.” 
Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die. 
And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake. 
“Hagan did that to you?” 
Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”
Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?” 
Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.” 
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.” 
Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.” 
And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?” 
“What?” 
There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?” 
Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more. 
“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.” 
Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.
“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.” 
“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over. 
And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.
He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this. 
He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.
But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly. 
"Where‘re we going?"
And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.
"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.
"Safe?"
"Safe."
"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."
If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.
(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2
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sapphire-writes · 1 year
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ceilings ~ modern!Aegon x Reader
summary: You and Aegon are friends, but there's always been something between you. This summer, it all comes to a breaking point.
warnings: 18+ (smut, fingering, oral fem receiving, p in v, kissing, semi-drunk s*x), drinking, partying, angst
word count: 4.8k
note: hi. uh oh. modern Egg angst. I hope you enjoy ❤️
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In a different world, you and Aegon Targaryen probably wouldn’t have been friends. You were different. He was reckless and careless; you were cautious and calculated. 
If it weren’t for a minor run-in with the law, your paths wouldn’t have crossed at all. Lucky for him, the Targaryen family has a lot of connections. So when Aegon, at the ripe age of 16 decided to rob a liquor store, he was issued a slap on the wrist and community service. 
Which led him straight to you.
Working with you, to be more specific. You had needed a summer job for some much-needed extra cash, and Aegon needed someone to sign off on his community service hours. 
All the staff were your age, and you’d quickly bonded with everyone. Rhaena became one of your closest friends, along with Aegon. You’re not sure how exactly you became friends; most likely he told some tasteless joke you’d scolded him for which in return caused him to say something even raunchier just so you’d keep paying attention to him. 
Aegon Targaryen was nothing if not a negative attention seeker. You’d fallen into that dynamic rather quickly, Aegon poking you, you poking back. It was gentle, playful even. 
In the middle of that summer, after a drunken night at Danny Greyjoys, you’d received a text from Aegon long after the party ended. You’d introduced him to your friend Sara who you brought along, and he’d appeared to hit it off with her. 
Give me Sara’s number, he’d sent, she’s super cute.
You’d rolled your eyes, watching more bubbles appear on the screen.
But also I’ve kind of been in love with you since the beginning of the summer, he wrote. 
Your heart stopped. The bubbles came back—then disappeared. Then came back.
He didn’t send anything else. 
You never talked about it.
In fact, you and Aegon moved on like he’d never sent it. 
It was always hard to say goodbye to him at the end of the summer. While Rhaena and Sara joined you at the local high school, Aegon joined his siblings across the country at Dragonstone Academy. 
But even after Aegon completed his community service, he kept coming back each summer. It wasn’t like he needed the money, his family was well off. He just liked the job, liked the company of his friends. 
Liked you.
You’d dated a few coworkers on and off throughout the years. Cregan Stark, Will Tyrell. But Aegon you’d always seen as a friend. At least that’s what you told yourself. 
Even when you’d accepted your college placements; Aegon at Citadel University, you at Winterfell State, you’d always return to King’s Landing in the summer months. 
You’d always come back to each other. 
Always teetering the line between friends and something else. Holding hands, cuddling, laughing, and joking, but nothing further. 
Just friends. 
Then, months into your junior year of college, Aegon’s dad died. You’d known he was sick for a while, a horrible slow deteriorating sort of death. But it still felt sudden. Like, the family had known he was going to die for so long, they almost forgot. 
He’d been different this summer. More distant. Drinking more. You knew he was grieving still, even if the relationship with his father was strained. Relationships are complicated. And that was still his dad. 
You’d sat in his car one night after work, just talking. He’d been tapping on the steering wheel with one hand, the other near his mouth as he worried the skin around his thumb with his teeth. A nervous habit. 
“You know, you and Hel are the only ones I can talk to,” he’d admitted, referring to you and his sister, “No one else…no one else really understands.”
You’d taken his hand in yours, sitting in comfortable silence as the engine purred and the sky grew darker. 
“I love you, Egg,” you’d told him, as you always did. 
“I love you too,” he said back, the words falling easily from his lips. 
Aegon was due to head back to Citadel University early the following week as summer came to its inevitable end. You’d all be parting ways soon enough, heading back to your college campuses for your final year of school. It was this fact that led Danny Greyjoy to insist on going out for drinks after work. A little hole-in-the-wall pub with darts and pool tables.
“We can go back to mine later,” Aegon had insisted, as you’d ordered another round of drinks, “Mum’s out of town on business.”
“Won’t Aemond mind?” Danny asked.
“He’s visiting his girlfriend,” Aegon insisted, “C’mon let’s get fucked up! Summer’s almost over.”
Danny agreed, shrugging and finishing his drink. Aegon had always been a bit of a party boy, but since the death of his father, you’d noticed an uptick in his recreational substance use. Alcohol; sometimes something harder. He’d shown up to work a few times violently hungover, or perhaps still intoxicated. You really couldn’t tell. 
You worried about him. 
You head to the bathroom to freshen up, fixing your mascara in the mirror when the bathroom door swings open and Aegon pushes inside. He’s got a cheeky grin on his face as he digs in his pocket, pressing his back against the door. You narrow your eyes, attempting to move past him but he blocks your path. 
“Stop it you weirdo,” you joke, laughing at his antics.
“Take this with me, c’mon,” Aegon teases, revealing two nips from his pocket.
“I fucking hate Mcgillicuddy,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at the clear bottle with its bright green label.
“Pussy,” he goads, smiling showing all his perfect teeth. 
Your heart skips a beat, as usual, and you snatch the bottle from him. You narrow your eyes as you crack the seal, before holding it between your teeth as you tilt your head back. The menthol-flavored liquor burns a path down your throat and a feeling of warmth blooms in your chest. 
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, taking his own and mimicking your movement. 
You cough slightly, watching his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. He discards the empty bottle, reaching for yours. 
“You’re coming to the after-party, right?” he asks, his Cheshire grin still on his face. 
“I don’t know,” you tell him.
“C’mon,” he pleads, “It’s one of my last nights, I’ve barely spent any time with you.”
You smile slightly. Not a complete lie. Aegon spent the better half of the summer chasing Aliandra Martell like a lost puppy. They had a brief, passionate affair that fizzled out rather quickly as she returned to Sunspear the previous week. 
“And who’s fault is that?” you tease, “If you weren’t so preoccupied….”
Aegon lurches forward, grappling at your waist, tickling your side. You squeal, pulling yourself away from his grabbing hands, cheeks burning.  
“Fuck off,” he interrupts, looking at you with more intensity in his violet eyes, “Please come.”
Something in the air crackles between you. A new wave of energy.
“Alright,” you tell him, “For a little bit.”
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“You bitch!” Rhaena screams, trampling you in a hug as you arrive at Aegon’s. 
She’s already had a few drinks; dirty Shirley Temples most likely. Rhaena has one hell of a sweet tooth. She smiles, her lips slightly tinged red from the grenadine. 
“I didn’t know you were coming, I thought you wanted to sleep,” she says, only slurring a few words. 
You hold onto her, giggling at her carefree state. Rhaena is usually so poised and collected. 
“Egg made me,” you tell her, “Where is the bastard?”
“Living room!” Rhaena giggles, “You look so cute!”
You glance down at your jeans shorts and the small black top you’d chosen. Going out top, Sara calls it. You’d gone home to change before heading over to the Targaryen-Hightower mansion. 
“Thanks, Rhae,” you tell her, as she places a sticky kiss on your cheek. 
Moving past some people, primarily acquaintances and other coworkers, you make your way into the living room. The music is blasting, people lounging on the couches and sitting on the floor playing some sort of drinking game. A table has been set up, and you spot Jace and Cregan engaged in a game of beer pong. Multicolored lights flash around the room bathing everyone in a kaleidoscope of colors. 
Aegon sits on the couch furthest across the room between two girls; a blonde and a brunette you don’t recognize. They’re curled into him, laughing at something he says. His eyes meet yours from across the room, lighting up as he recognizes you. You walk over, shaking your head at him. So broken up over Aliandra, it seems. You laugh, rolling your eyes before standing in front of him as he reaches for your hand.
He calls your name over the music as his fingers lace through yours. His eyes are red, you’d assumed he’d been drinking more since leaving the bar from the incoherence of his texts to you. Aegon was quite impatient as you went home to change, your phone dinging continuously from his texts. 
“You started without me?” you tease, and he tugs on your arm, pulling you closer. 
Aegon leans forward, pushing his back off of the couch. Your eyebrows cinch together as he pulls you closer, face nearing your own. Heart racing, realizing what is about to happen as your faces come closer; So close you’re able to count each of his silver lashes framing those violet eyes. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” you blurt out, seconds before he does. 
Aegon’s lips are soft and warm, his tongue parts your lips before dipping inside of your mouth. He tastes like vodka, like summer, like…
You pull away, and he lets go of your hand, falling back onto the couch, looking up at you through hooded eyes. The blonde next to him continues talking, as though nothing had happened. Aegon turns to her, smiling and continuing their conversation. 
You’re not breathing; he stole the air from your lungs. You turn on your heel, heading straight to the kitchen. A bottle of tequila is the first thing you see among other various bottles and cups on the counter. You grab the bottle, taking a long swig, not caring who’d drunk from it before you. Your heart is beating erratically against your ribs. 
Aegon just kissed you.
Aegon.
You take another swig before placing it on the counter. 
Holy shit. 
It’s the strangest feeling; like something that was meant to happen finally did. You’re stunned, standing stuck as Aegon enters the kitchen, moving by you and filling his cup with water from the sink. You march over to him as he turns on the faucet.
“Aegon,” you say to him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Yes,” he says, glancing at you, turning off the faucet.
“You just kissed me,” you tell him.
“Mhmm,” he agrees, placing his cup on the counter, fingers curling along the edge of the sink. He stares forward like he’s contemplating something. How is he not freaking out as much as you are?
“You just kissed….me,” you repeat, raising your eyebrows.
“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning forward and kissing you again. 
His hand finds your waist, the other cradling your jaw as he deepens the kiss. You kiss him back this time, arching against him, tangling your fingers in his short silver hair. His tongue pushes past your lips and you sigh as it enters your mouth. 
This is Aegon. You’re kissing Aegon. Yet you don’t really want to stop, not when his lips feel so soft and warm molded against your own, his palm moving to your lower back and then over the swell of your ass. 
Then someone enters the kitchen and you pull away from each other quickly, as though someone physically pulled you both apart. It’s Sara and Cregan laughing about something. Cregan spots Aegon and clasps him on the shoulder before pulling him back toward the living room demanding he be his partner in beer pong. 
Sara notices your flushed face and blissed-out, shocked expression. You reach for the tequila bottle again, taking another swig letting it burn trying to get the taste of Aegon out of your mouth. Her eyes narrow suspiciously as she comes closer. 
“Whoa there,” Sara says, holding out her red solo cup, “You okay kid?”
Swallowing the mouthful of tequila you stick your tongue out at your friend.
“Aegon just kissed me.”
“Wait….what?” Sara asks, eyes wide. 
You place the bottle on the counter and remove Sara’s cup before taking both her hands in yours. 
“Aegon. Aegon just kissed me,” you repeat, staring deeply into her eyes. 
“Okay….well,” Sara shuffles from one foot to the other and you frown.
“Well, what?”
“Did you like it?”
Fuck.
“Like it? Sara, he’s like one of my best friends here,” you tell her through a forced chuckle. 
“Oh c’mon. You and Egg have had this tension for years. Like yeah, you’re friends but…friends don’t look at friends the way Aegon looks at you,” she says while reaching for her cup and taking a sip.
Your heart pounds as you think about it. All these years, the harmless flirting. The love confession. That weird feeling in the pit of your stomach every time he was with Ali. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell her, shaking your head. 
“Liar,” she calls you out, “And don’t think I don’t see how you look at him. The whole Ali thing this summer?”
“What?!”
“Girl, you were jealous,” she says, exasperated, “Jealous of her being with Egg.”
Okay, so maybe you had been a little jealous. 
“I mean…I don’t know,” you admit.
“Do not tell me you haven’t thought about it,” Sara tells you, “The boy’s been in love with you since we were sixteen.”
“Okay stop,” you tell her, face warming, “I don’t…I don’t know what to do…he’s going through it right now and he’s leaving soon. I just…I don’t think it’s the right time.”
Sara scrunches her nose, making a face. 
“Looks like Egg thinks it is,” she challenges.
You suck your lower lip between your teeth, unable to rid yourself of the feeling of his kiss. 
“Look, whatever happens,” Sara says, reaching out to touch your arm, “I think you should go for it. If that’s what you want.”
That’s always the question, isn’t it? 
What do you want?
There are no more surprise kisses as the night goes on. You play games, drink cheap liquor to get a little buzzed and laugh with your friends. You catch his eye briefly from across the room but nothing more. Helaena arrives at one point with her girlfriend Cerelle, blissfully stoned out of her mind and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek in greeting. 
People filter in and out as the night wears on. Rhaena is in no condition to drive home, and you hate driving home this late. You, Sara, Rhaena, and Cregan all decide to spend the night, fighting over which couch everyone will sleep on. Rhaena curls up on one with Sara, their legs intertwined. 
Cregan mumbles something about taking the floor, offering you the other. 
“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods, scratching the back of his neck, “You’re a gem.”
“Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, finding a spot on the floor.
You giggle softly, heading to the kitchen for more water. You hate hangovers and paced yourself rather well this evening, making sure to drink plenty of water between drinks. Your buzz is already fading as you fill your cup. 
You take a big sip, draining it halfway before filling it to the top again. You know you’ll be desperate for water in the morning and want to keep a full glass beside you. Plus, if Rhaena wakes up needing some you can offer her your cup. You shut the faucet, turning around and meeting the eyes of Aegon. Your heart skips a beat. You’d thought he’d gone to bed. 
“Hey,” you tell him, placing your cup on the counter, “Listen…Egg….”
He moves towards you, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you in for a heated kiss. You kiss him back and it’s different this time. He tastes like water this time around, his movements less sloppy, more controlled. 
He’s sobered up, you realize as he moans against your mouth. 
Everyone’s gone home. Everyone’s asleep. It’s just you and him. 
He backs up, taking you with him, and dragging you down the hall. His hand laces through yours as he guides you into the hallway and into a room. His room.
The door shuts behind you and you keep kissing him, keep fisting the front of his shirt as he backs up knees hitting the bed and sitting down. 
You straddle his lap easily, as though you’d done it several times before. His hands move to your waist before dropping lower to palm your ass. You roll your hips against him as he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft flesh. 
Your hands loop around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. This is Aegon. You’re kissing Aegon. Reluctantly, you pull away from his greedy mouth as his hands fall to your jean shorts, unbuttoning them and pulling down your fly.
“Are you sure?” you breathe, nose pressed against his cheek. 
Aegon’s breathing is shallow, one hand still firmly on your ass as he kisses the corner of your mouth. 
“I’ve wanted this since forever,” he admits, sending butterflies fluttering in your belly. 
He waits, not moving his hand; not going any further but also not taking any steps back.
“Me too,” you whisper and he presses his lips to yours once more. 
The kiss is hungry, stoking a fire of need deep in your belly. Aegon’s hand brushes against your lower stomach and the muscles of your abdomen contract as he breaches the band of your underwear. Fingers dipping lower, he circles your clit already wet and sensitive from your heavy makeout.
“Seven hells,” he murmurs against your mouth.
“Oh fuck,” you manage to squeak as Aegon sinks two fingers into your wet heat, curling them inside you.
He moves his fingers in and out at a torturously slow pace, the heel of his palm grazing against your clit with every thrust. 
“Fuck you’re so wet,” he comments, kissing you once more as you grind down against his hand. 
A whine slips past your lips as his lips move to caress your jaw, before kissing a hot trail down your neck. You can feel his smile against you as he speaks, “Shhh don’t wanna wake anyone, do we?”
He’s cruel with his comment, the pads of his fingers rubbing perfectly against your sweet spot sending sparks of pleasure down your legs all the way to your toes. Your eyes squeeze shut and you clench around his fingers causing him to chuckle.
“That feel good?” he asks, kissing right below your ear.
“Yes, feels s’good,” you mumble, fisting his hair harshly. Aegon groans as you ride his fingers, chasing the release building in your abdomen. 
Each curl of his fingers stokes a fire in your belly, and soon you’re trembling on top of him, falling apart as he silences your desperate cries with a kiss. Gently removing his fingers from your slick entrance he flips you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. He pulls your shorts and underwear off in one fluid motion, tossing them to a corner of the room.
“D’you have a condom?” you ask breathlessly as you yank your tank top over your head. You unclasp your bra as Aegon removes his shirt, his violet eyes hungrily eying your freed breasts. 
You rest back on your elbows as he watches you. “Egg?”
His eyes snap back up to yours before he grips underneath your thighs pulling you toward him, “Sorry, yes, fuck,” he says, kissing your inner thigh, “Have to taste you first, please.”
Your face is on fire but you nod at his pleading as he buries his face in between your thighs. Aegon licks a thick stripe up your drenched slit, swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. You throw your head back against the pillow as he continues to feast on you, alternating between dipping his tongue in your entrance and suckling on your clit. 
“Fuckfuckfuck,” you hiss through clenched teeth, “So fucking good Egg shit--” 
He moans against you, fingers digging into your thighs and soon your legs are shaking around his head, trapping him between your thighs as you come with a muffled cry. Aegon crawls back on top of you, kissing you fervently, the taste of you fresh on his tongue. You scratch down his back, pull him as close as you can to you. 
“Condom,” you gasp, feeling the hardness between his legs pressing as you through his jeans, “I need you--”
“Right here,” he says, leaning to his nightstand. He yanks the drawer open so hard, it crashes to the floor with a thud. You both freeze before descending into giggles.
“Shhh,” he cautions and you cover your mouth as your laughter continues, “Seven hells--” he reaches to the floor retrieving a condom. 
“Stop it,” he says with a smile, removing your hand to kiss you again.
“M’sorry,” you mumble, trying to hold in your laughter. 
Aegon slips his jeans down, followed quickly by his boxers freeing his long, hard cock. The tip is flushed pink, weeping precum as he lazily strokes himself. You wet your lips as he tears open the condom wrapper, rolling it down his generous length. Once he’s done, you’re quick to pull him back into a kiss, feeling his heavy cock slap against your inner thigh. 
“You’re sure?” you ask again, and Aegon nods.
“I’m sure,” he confirms, “Fuck, are…are you?”
“Yes,” you tell him, reaching to guide him toward your aching center, “Yes, I’m sure.”
He sinks inside your tight, waiting pussy and you gasp at the way he stretches you out. You’re so tight around him, it’s nearly painful for a moment as you adjust to his girth. 
“Fuck,” you hiss as he bottoms out, “Seven….”
“You okay?” he mumbles, placing a wet kiss on your neck.
“I’m good,” you confirm, fire blazing in your belly as he rolls his hips against you, stealing the breath from your lungs, “Gods…”
Aegon keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, you can feel his hot breath against your skin in between the kisses and love bites he adorns you with. Every rock of his hips winds the coil in your gut tighter and tighter until you feel as though you’re a bowstring about to snap. 
“Fuck you’re so tight,” he murmurs, “Want you to come again, baby, c’mon.”
Nails digging into his shoulders you’re thrown over the edge, the coil in your gut snapping as white-hot pleasure washes over you. Your pussy clenches, milking his cock for all its worth as you feel him twitch inside of you; Aegon moans as he reaches his own release. 
You hold onto him for a moment, letting yourself bask in the pleasure he’s given you, feeling the weight of him resting on top of you, his softening cock still buried within you. Slowly, the tingling sensation of your orgasm begins to ebb, the sheen of sweat that coats your body causes you to shiver as you grow cold. Aegon rolls off of you, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. He runs a hand through his hair, back still facing you. 
You sit up, watching him, suddenly feeling very exposed in your naked state. Aegon removes the condom, ties it, and throws it in the trash can beside his bed. Then he reaches for a pair of shorts. Heat blooms in your cheeks as you rise, searching for your clothes. 
Aegon doesn’t say anything, just watches you out of the corner of his eye. You grab your bra and shirt first, throwing them back on. Panic rises in your throat suddenly at what’s just happened. 
Oh gods.
You’ve ruined everything, haven’t you?
Why isn’t he saying anything? Aegon stands, running a hand through his hair.
“We’re okay, right?” you nervously ask as you slip your shorts and underwear back on, “This won’t change anything, right?”
You can’t read his expression. He gives you a wry grin before nodding. 
“Course not,” he says, grabbing your hand, “C’mere.”
He pulls you gently toward the bed. You curl up next to him, his arm underneath your head. He falls asleep first, you can hear his gentle snoring in your ear. You can’t sleep. You just stare up at the ceiling counting each inhale and exhale. 
“Aegon?” you whisper, turning your head.
He doesn’t answer, still lost in sleep, and you’re left staring at the ceiling once more. 
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“Shut the fuck up!” Sara says the following morning. 
You’d gone with Rhaena and Sara for breakfast, leaving the others behind. You had gotten up, returning to the living room before everyone else woke up. Cregan was the only one awake, eyes narrowing as you lay on the couch. 
“Could’ve slept there,” he’d mumbled, before rolling over. 
Rhaena is slumped over her eggs, rubbing her temples as Sara excitedly shouts as you reveal what happened. 
“I’m serious,” you tell them.
“Was it good?” 
“Yeah, it was good,” you confirm.
“What does this mean?” Rhaena asks with a groan, “Fuck I think I’m gonna be sick..”
“I mean, I think I need to talk to him,” you admit, “About…this.”
“Well, I have to go back to the house anyway to pick up Cregan,” Sara says, lacing her fingers together, “Come with and you can talk to him.”
Nervous anticipation pools in your belly.
“Okay,” you tell her.
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After dropping Rhaena at home, you and Sara head back to the Targaryen mansion. It’s quiet when you arrive, walking in the door like you both live there. Helaena and Cerelle are curled up on the couch watching a movie. 
“My brother still here?” Sara asks and Helaena raises her head from Cerelle’s lap.
“Mhmm, they’re in the pool,” she confirms, “Aegon tried to host a darty, not many people showed up yet though.”
“Of course he did,” you say, rolling your eyes.
Sara nods to you and you follow her to the back door. The Targaryen backyard is a prime party zone, with its waterfall pool, large stone patio, and massive green yard. You spot Cregan right away, tossing a cursing Aly Blackwood into the pool. 
Your eyes scan over the dozen people before your heart drops into your stomach. Aegon’s in the pool as well, silver hair slicked back, a lopsided smile on his face. That’s not what makes your heart lurch, rather it's who is attached to him. 
Cassandra Baratheon clad in a deep blue string bikini straddles his waist, playing with the sunglasses on his head. She takes them off, putting them on her own face before Aegon lifts her up, setting her on the edge of the pool. She giggles, hands on his shoulders before giving the sunglasses back. Aegon squeezes her thighs, no doubt leaving indentations of his fingers on her porcelain skin. 
“Oh fuck,” Sara whispers, “Y/N…”
“What?” you ask, tearing your gaze away, “What? No…no it's fine… that's nothing. I’m good.”
Sara’s eyes are sad, “Honey…”
“Seriously, Sara, I’m good,” you insist, chest tight with emotion, “I’m just going to grab a water…”
“Give me five minutes,” Sara tells you, “Let me tell Cregan I’m taking you home.”
You give her a wordless nod as she moves toward her brother. You walk past the pool over to a cooler, grabbing water. The sun suddenly feels uncomfortably warm, a dull throbbing beginning behind your eyes. 
Someone comes up next to you, reaching into the cooler. Aegon shakes his head, droplets of water flying this way and that. You stare at him, watching as he grabs a can of beer. He glances at you after cracking the can and taking a long sip. 
“What?” he says. It’s friendly but different. There’s a new edge underneath the question.
Nothing will change, right?
Your throat tightens and you can feel tears prickling behind your eyes. Aegon just stares back, running a hand through his damp hair.
“Nothing,” you tell him, “I was just leaving.”
“You should stay for the party,” he suggests casually. 
You gaze at him, searching his violet eyes for anything, anything at all. 
“I’m tired,” you admit, “I’ll see you later.”
Aegon watches you leave, Sara wrapping her arm around your shoulders. There’s a moment of pause as the door closes behind you, and then Aegon finishes his drink and returns to the pool.
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daydreaming-nerd · 7 months
Text
The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 1
Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part
Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"
AN: I just got this request and I absolutely LOVE it. I have no idea how many parts it will be because it's really parking my imagination. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!
Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 
Warnings (so far): SA
Word count: 2765
(all photos are from pinterest)
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It was like being born, even though I was the ripe age of 435. Well, ripe in the years of fae. It felt like being born, in the sense that I can’t really remember what came before that passing shade of violet. The way his eyes bore into me, and in that moment I knew he felt the tug too. 
Mates. 
I reeled for days, the peonies of spring my only console, my brother had always been so absent minded and utterly consumed with being High Lord. How could the cauldron be so cruel? To mate me to the High Lord of the Night. I spent the next week thinking it had to be a mistake, that my bored mind was playing tricks on me. Yet when the council met the week following, his eyes found me immediately, and I think in that moment I saw him for the very first time. 
I didn’t dare approach him, far too shy and afraid to approach the Lord of Night. Not just  because of what he was, but because of what my brother would say. By basic necessity Tamilin was a good brother, he doted upon me, kept me safe, gave me free roam of the palace. But there was a darkness about him I couldn’t place. It started when he disappeared with our father one night only to come back with two sets of Illyrian wings. I knew whatever happened was wrong, but as a woman in the spring court, I knew better than to open my mouth. Needless to say, Tamlin became High Lord of Spring shortly after, and from the wings mounted on our family walls I knew we had but one enemy, the night court. 
It wasn’t until the third council meeting (the third I was allowed to attend, after I begged my brother to let me go) that the High Lord of Night finally sought me out. 
My brother was busying himself with the politics of Day and Summer, talking the heads off of Helion and Tarquin. I kept to the shadows naturally, avoiding any untoward advances from other High Lords. I tried to stay hidden in my pocket of introvertedness, but then I felt him, and my skin buzzed, like it needed to be touched, to be held.
“You felt it too right?” he purred into the shell of my ear causing the buzzing of my skin to become electric.  
“I did,” I admit pathetically. 
“And you feel it now too,” he whispers as I finally turn to face him. The violet of his eyes pierce my soul and I’m left speechless and unable to move from their gaze. He’s otherworldly, he’s everything, and he’s also completely forbidden. 
“Do you?” I ask, hoping that whatever answer he gives can validate the fire in my bones. 
“I do,” he muses like he loves the game. “Your brother killed my family. He is my sworn enemy and I should hate you.” he breathes. I can feel his resolve slipping along with mine, for every statement he makes I can make an opposing one, “but all I want to do is kiss you right now.” he finishes. 
Fire runs through my veins as a sharp breath passes my lips. I feel my brother's presence and I evade myself from the High Lord of Night’s cage. My brother whisks me off to the Spring Court once more, but not before I glance back one last time to see that shade of violet I had already learned to look for in a crowd. 
That was a week ago. 
I stand in the foyer of the castle with my brother and Lucien as we prepare to join the council once again this week. 
“You look ravishing as always,” Lucien muses, eyes wandering me like they’re hungry. 
“It’s not often my brother lets me out of the house, I have to make a good impression somehow,” I say backhandedly. All I get in return is a sideways glance from Tamiln as we are taken to court. Today the meeting  resides in Tarquins’s court. It changes once a week to allow all High Lord’s to have the upper hand. The sea salted mist hits my face and the warm rays of the sun tan my skin as we walk into the council. 
When we arrive he’s already there. He stands out amongst the rest, not just because he’s dressed in black, but because he’s the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen. The definition of a forbidden fruit. As if to tempt me, Tamilin unknowingly  sits directly across from the High Lord of Night making it so I can’t lift my head without meeting the violet of his eyes. If you had asked me to recall the events the council discussed, I couldn’t, the only word left on my tongue was Night. Talk of tithes and power checks drifted over my head. The only thing to rouse me from my trance was the scraping of wooden chairs across marble floors, signaling that the council meeting had adjourned and that the more foundational political talks of High Lords would begin. 
I took it as my queue to step out onto one of the many terraces of the Summer Court. The room where the council was held was stifling. I thought that the breeze of the ocean might cool my skin, but no matter where I went that deafening heat followed.  
“I was hoping I would see you again,” purred a voice from behind me. 
I turned to find that piercing violet once more. “Of course why wouldn’t I be at the council meetings?” I ask, trying to act like I won’t be replaying this conversation in my mind when I return to bed tonight. 
“You’ve only been to four council meetings now, and your brother has a habit of keeping you locked up in the Spring Court.” he trails, drawing closer to the railing of which I’m leaning upon. 
“Well I intend to be at all of them from here on out,” I state.
“Any particular reason why?” he asks with a playful tone in his voice and I know what he’s insinuating. 
“Because I wish to be a part of the governing of my court, even though I am just a woman,” I say, evading his innuendo. 
“That’s a shame if you were part of my court you wouldn’t have such phrases like ‘just a woman’” he states almost as if he’s upset with the phrase. 
“I highly doubt that, women aren’t equals in any court,” I scoff. 
“What about Kallias and Viviane?” he asks. 
“What about them?” 
“Kallias sees Viviane as his equal, she is his mate and his High Lady,” he explains, stepping even closer to me, close enough that my skin starts to buzz again. 
“Viviane is special, everyone knows that,” I justify. 
“And you’re not?” he muses and my skin goes from buzzing to electrifying in three words. I feel his fingertips grazing my hand as if asking for permission. 
“My Lord we can’t do this,” I breathe out. 
“Call me Rhysand,” he says, stepping even closer. 
I step to the side, avoiding his advances, “My Lord, I won’t do this, I can’t do this.” I affirm. 
I see him bristle from my reluctance to call him by his name, “You’ll give into the idea of us. When you’re lying in that cold bed high up in the spring court thinking of all the ways I could warm it for you. When you’ve spent the week with nothing but this conversation on your mind,” he leans down to whisper in my ear. “This time next week you will beg for me to touch you, and I’ll happily oblige, mate.”
I’m so taken aback by his words that I can’t even form a quick witted response, I simply slid away and tried my best not to look back at him as I felt his gaze pierce my back. I nearly slam into Viviane and Kallias. 
“Y/n are you alright?” Viviane asks. 
“Yes, just feeling the heat of the summer court,” I lie, fanning my face. 
“Then you should come home with us today, it’s been so long since we had a girls night. I wish for your company." She smiles while taking my hand. 
“Shall we go home sister?” Tamilin appears, Lucien in tow. 
“Actually I think I’ll spend the night in the winter court with Viviane, she’s right,” I look at her and smile. “We haven’t had a girls night in quite a long time.”  
“Very well, I won’t get in the way of your sinful gossiping,” Tamilin smiles and leads Lucien away with him. 
If the summer court is sea salt and sun, then the winter court is pine and fresh fallen snow. Though they are opposites in every way, they are stunning in their own right, like all courts are. I’ve been here many times before to sit and talk with Viviane, she’s one of the only other ladies of nobility my age and a fierce friend. It’s not uncommon for me to spend a couple days here in the winter court, with Viviane and Kallias. 
I sit among a bed of furs near a warm fire adjacent to Viviane as Kallias pours both me and his mate a glass of red wine. 
“Thank you dear,” she smiles, kissing him on the cheek before he leaves us to gossip. 
“You and Kallias really are a perfect match,” I beam and Vivianane knows me well enough to know that there's a sadness there. 
“You’ll find it too someday, your mate. I know you will,” she assures me. “Now tell me, what of Lucien?” 
I roll my eyes taking a sip of my wine, “He’s still insufferable. The other day he backed me into a wall and if one of my ladies maids hadn’t walked in I swore he would’ve had his way with me.” 
She lets out an airy laugh, “I still can’t believe Tamiln allows him to play with you like that. He’s so fiercely protective of you with everyone else.” she says, taking a sip of her own wine. 
“Lucien is his best friend, he wouldn’t deny him anything, even his little sister.” I point out. 
“I suppose you’re right,” she smirks. The night is filled with goblets of wine and laughter as we continue to talk about the high lords of Prythian. We even go as far as to talk about her and Kallais’ sex lives, to which Kallias promptly came in laughing taking his wife to bed. 
I trudge down the hall to the bedroom the High Lord and Lady had set aside just for me a few years ago. I fall into the plush mattress, the world slightly spinning around me. The second I am left alone with my thoughts I recall the feeling of Rhysand’s breath on my neck and I shiver. 
The room spins and I feel my skin grow hot with need, my heart beats faster and my  head is drunk with that shade of violet. My hand subconsciously drifts down my body. 
You’re drunk? A voice cuts through my head. 
I sit up right and look around the room. The only thing I find is the flickering of the fireplace against the walls. 
The same voice chuckles and speaks again, No I am not in the room with you my mate.
“How are you doing this?” I ask in my head.
The daemati gift, and of course, I am your mate. The High Lord croons. 
“Get out of my head” I grumble. 
But you called for me, I can feel your… excitement.
“Then you're mistaken,” I hiss.
We both know that’s not true darling. 
“Goodnight,” I groan, rolling over to go to bed.
Goodnight, darling
The following days are long. Despite my better wishes there is a part of me that yearns to see the High Lord of Night again. I waltz through the spring court, picking flowers for the dinner table and evading Lucien’s advances. At night I find myself obsessively reading the romance novels I keep beside my bed. On one night in particular a certain scene in my book makes my toes curl and my thighs clench. My fingers skim the pages and the roughness of them is almost heightened. 
My my my, what a dirty book. That voice croons into my mind.
“Get out of my head,” I gripe. 
I can’t help myself when I feel your body react as it does. He purrs. 
“How on earth can you ‘feel’ my body?” I roll my eyes.
Like this. 
A tug reverberates through my body. Like there’s a string in the pit of my stomach that he just pulled. The sensation causes me to lose a breath as further arousal goes to my legs. He lets out a dark chuckle. 
“Don’t ever do that again,” I order him
But you loved it so much, He purrs and I can practically feel him smirking in my head. 
“You’re an insufferable bastard High Lord,” I growl at his persistence. 
Call me Rhysand. 
“I see no reason to drop informalities, my lord.” I quip back. 
My name will fall from your lips one day, and when it does I’ll be sure to swallow it with my own. Until then, I’ll leave you with this. Goodnight darling. 
I feel another tug at the bond reverberating through me and I nearly let out a moan at the feeling. I snuggle into my sheets that suddenly feel as if they are constricting around my body. I toss and turn and try to push all thoughts from my mind, but I can’t stop the idea of the High Lord's lips on mine. His night black hair in my hands, the way his moans might fall from those lips.
The next morning I take my breakfast in one of the lounge areas, still reeling from last night. My thoughts still wander to the image of his face, and how his eyes light me on fire. The door opens and a head of auburn hair pokes in. 
“Forgive me, I didn’t know you were in here,” Lucien says like he has regret, yet he sits down across from me. 
“No worries, I'm almost finished eating,” I reply, placing my tea down and getting ready to get up.. 
“And I secretly hoped to spend some time with you,” he sighs, sinking into the couch. 
“Perhaps later, I wanted to read in the garden,” I stand and make my way towards the door. 
“Perhaps now,” he growls. I feel a cold hand grasp my arm hauling me into the wall. 
“Lucien,” I hiss as my back is pressed into the wall, his frame looming over mine. 
“You are such a tease,” he smirks before kissing my neck hungrilly. His hands roam my body pulling me impossibly close. 
“I’ve never once given you any inclination that I wanted you,” I gripe at him. 
“That’s what makes you so desirable my dear,” he practically moans into my neck. 
I gather my strength and push him off of me, “I’ll remind you that I am Tamlin’s little sister and while he favors you his favor only goes so far. One word from me and he’ll send you back to the Autumn Court.” I growl at him, and it seems to be enough as he backs away and leaves me to reel from what just happened in silence. 
I sit down on the couch and take deep breaths to ground myself. 
What’s going on? Are you alright? That voice like glorious night cuts through my mind and I almost feel thankful for how it brings me back to reality. 
“Yes I’m fine,” I say back. 
What happened? I felt your fear through the bond.
“It’s nothing, just Lucien.” I dismiss him. 
Did he touch you? 
I almost swore I heard anger laced in his voice. “Well I am his favorite plaything,” I roll my eyes.
And Tamlin allows him to touch you like this? 
“As long as my virtue isn’t completely compromised so that I am still of value when he inevitably marries me off, yes. He doesn’t care.” I divulge, and quite stupidly I realize. 
As if I needed another reason to hate him.
“He is still my brother, my Lord,” I remind him, though I secretly feel the same. 
Don’t you mean, Rhysand?
“No I don’t, my Lord,” I say, drawing out the last words. 
I’ll see you tomorrow my darling, I relish the idea of seeing you in the golden light of the day court. 
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kujiba · 6 months
Text
★MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE
୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior
୨୧ — ꒰ wowee, thanks alot for 100+ likes on part one! Hope you enjoy part two :]
[PART ONE
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
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-YOU DIDNT NEED TO BE A GENIUS to get an idea of what was happening. Your lower body brushed against the soft yet sharp grass, it felt all too real. Your (e/c) eyes narrowed its way to a tree. An ordinary tree with many ripe fruits; one of it being able to take your attention.
Your hand circled on one of the fruits bottom and plucked it carefully, it matched exactly as your expectation. A plump fruit that seemed to be full of its juice and taste, an appearance that resembled a beautiful like sunset furthermore having a sweet and gentle aroma that is able to energize an individual.
Your lips slowly made its way near the side of the familiar fruit, the texture and feeling were soft yet hard. The aroma itself made your mouth faintly water, you swallowed your saliva having a high expectation out of this. After all, you always wanted to see what it really tasted like after collecting so many.
"Thank you for the meal." You lastly said and took a bite.
Your eyes widened a bit, this was far more than what you expected. The flavor was sweet but not too much to be like a candy. It was juicy enough to make you feel more hydrated than ever. It didn't take you long to start devouring the whole fruit at once
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"Better than i had thought." Your back laid against the tree, all of its fruits gone for it was rapidly consumed by someone (you).
You wiped off the fluid on the side of your face. A small smile looming over your lips "I feel more.. Refreshed than ever." Your tone consisted of slight suprise and satisfaction "Still, i cant seem to get my head wrapped around whats happening.." You mumbled quietly to yourself, having your fair share of the internet you were well aware on the many fanfictions and AU the game GENSHIN IMPACT had, but it having to actually become a real life situation is something too impossible to even happen.
Your feelings felt too mixed and unorganized. Half of what you felt was being thankful, because out of all the things you were gonna reincarnate in. The gods or whoever did it brought you into a more PG game; sure it had killing.. And some questionable things but as long as you live like an NPC things will go in the right track!.
With a goal set in mind you dusted off your hands following with walking down the dirt path that led to the gates of the iconic town MONDSTADT. you could remember it like it was just yesterday when you first played genshin. A feeling crept up to you, something similar - that you've walked down this path for millions of times and that muscle memory just took in. Deja vu didn't leave your mind until you were met with two guards infront of you.
"Halt. Who are you and what is your business here in mondstat" One of the guards spoke up, eyeing you up and down incase you were bringing any dangerous or threatening items to the city.
The guards other companion putted his hand on top of his friends shoulder "Wait, ___. They look familiar dont they?" His tone filled with suspicion, he couldn't shake it off as just a normal coincidence.
"What? What are you even saying ____. I believe you're making a far stretch in this one, i clearly remember that they have (opposite color) hair." The guards companion replied back with confidence in his answer. And it soon didn't take long for it to turn to a long and repeating argument on what was the appearance of the person they were arguing about.
"Jeez, who even is the person their saying. They must seem complicated" You thought to yourself while at the same time, was rubbing the back of your head - all you wanted was to slip into the city of Mondstadt but it seems to be much harder than you had thought in mind.
During the time the two guards were still rambling about the appearance of a certain someone. a silhouette of a girl with long silky brown hair, complimenting her appearance with a bright crimson bow that anybody could see from a mile away.
"Huh? I wonder whats going on over there.. Better go check it out!" The mysterious girl exclaimed, swiftly jumping down the soaring cliff. The moment her feet left the ground, wing like designs appeared behind her back which helped her safely land on the ground yet again.
"Whats going on here?" The mysterious girl walked between the two guards to stop their argument. Both her hands placed on her waist as she looked at the two with confusion.
"Oh- Outrider amber. Good to see you today" The guard greeted the named girl, AMBER. Amber exchanged the guards greeting with a smile "Good to see you today too. Now, will anyone care to explain what's going on?" She questioned, her hazel eyes glancing at the three people infront of her; You noticed how her gaze seemed too be longer on yours - as if she had something on her mind.
"I'll explain"
"Let me explain"
"So basically.."
You and the other two guards were caught off guard by the sudden synchronization. "Uhm, I can explain the situation" You spoke up while (e/c) eyes looked at the two.
"No, I've got a more grip and understanding standing on the situation, allow me" One of the guards replied back, his other companion raised a brow on what the other had just said.
"Please. I remember the details on the situation more clearly, I'll be telling you what happened Outrider Amber." His companion argued back to the other
"I'm doing you a favor so allow me."
"You're gonna leave out some parts so just let me do it"
"I'll do it"
"No, I'll do it"
"Guys.."
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"So.. What you're all saying is that this person just wanted to get inside mondstadt?" Amber questioned;it took a long while till you just decided to explain to amber what really happened. Still, you couldn't shake off the feeling how intensely she was staring at you for - it creeped you out badly but you tried not to make it too obvious.
"Thats basically what happened" You confirmed giving her a small nod. Amber's expression seemed to be in deep thought for some moments till she gave you a smile in return.
"Seems like theres no problem then! You don't seem to pose as a threat, uhm.." Amber trailed off not really having to get your name yet. "Oh! It's (Name), pleasure to meet you" You kindly greeted her
You expected a positive greeting back but instead, your body jolted slightly. Seeing her shocked expression staring at you deeply for a moment and soon returned to normal.
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Amber's expression calmed down and she gave you a apologetic smile "Oh sorry bout that... Just go right ahead" She offered, her fingertips gently wrapping around the back of her neck as her gaze were on the floor. You questioned her abnormal behavior earlier but the thought of going inside THE city of Mondstadt that you've dreamed ever since you first played made you ecstatic. Not to mention that you just met with one of the main side characters (amber) made you forget her strange activity just a few seconds ago.
You gave her a nod "Alright. Thank you!" And without hesitating you quickly walked inside the city of Mondstadt. The aroma of dandelions waved through the surroundings as people were joyful and free; something that you've craved since your 'previous' life.
Today is a brand new page in a book, where you're the one holding the pen and get to be able to write whatever you desire! WELCOME TO MONDSTADT
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Two pairs of hazel colored eyes followed your body whilst you gleefully strolled from shop to shop. Her gaze not leaving you for even a second, for fear shrouded over her. Fear that you again would leave her sight.
".. They can't be..."
"You've felt it too huh?"
"... Get the others.
"We can't let them get away"
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[A/N: HOPE YALL ENJOY PART 2. SORRY IT SEEMED SHORT, I'LL TRY TO MAKE PART 3 LONGER. ANYWAYS PROLOUGE IS DONE, MONDSTADT ARC WILL START NOW
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d1xonss · 5 months
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H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛
Sticks and Stones
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 5
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : Fluff
✧ Word Count : 3k
AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!
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The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.
The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.
Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.
Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.
For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.
You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.
You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.
You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.
Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.
But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.
“Hey!”
You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.
You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”
“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.
You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.
A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.
You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.
She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”
You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”
“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”
“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.
She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”
Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all. 
And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.
Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.
His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.
Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.
“Hey!” he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”
You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.
Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.
The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.
Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”
“Get back to the house.”
His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.
There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.
He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.
Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.
You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.
You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.
He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”
“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.
Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”
Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.
You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.
And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”
A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”
His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”
“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”
“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”
“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”
The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.
You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”
“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”
You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.
After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”
He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.
“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.” 
He simply shrugged, “Good.”
Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”
“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.
You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”
He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.
You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”
“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”
“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.
He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”
You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”
He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”
~ Thanks for reading!
686 notes · View notes
asahicore · 1 year
Text
real me, real you - psh
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pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader (ft. jay... sorry)
synopsis. You’re your school’s popular pretty smart girl, but with a twist - you lead a completely different life at home, where you are messy, lazy and foul-mouthed. Only your family and best friend Sumin know about this, until Park Sunghoon, of all people, finds out. The resident cold and arrogant heartbreaker of your school decides to blackmail you into doing his biddings - but you can’t say no, not even when he asks you to be his fake girlfriend, otherwise he’ll ruin your reputation. But as you and Sunghoon get closer, you realize that maybe he’s not so bad after all, and you may be more similar than you'd originally though - all while your old childhood friend Jay watches from the sidelines.
genre. fake dating, high school au, very slight love triangle action, fluff and angst
warnings. this is the first thing i ever wrote so there may be slightly cringe and awkward things but i didn't wanna change anything lol, hoon is a meanie at some point and everything is dramatic and very fanfic-y, mild childhood trauma for both of them &lt;3
word count. 22.9k
author's note. @end-hyphen genie this one is for you... i hope you still like this fic after all this time lol ! as i said in the warnings i only changed a few typos and punctuation from the original but i decided to not make any major changes bc i think it's nice to see what my writing was like when i had just started out!! hopefully i've improved lol, also this was not inspired by true beauty!! i've never seen the show nor read the webtoon. i was inspired by two mangas called switch girl and kare kano (or his and her circumstances) which have this plot of a girl being two different people at school and at home. anyways hope u guys enjoy this and if u do pls lmk <333
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Nobody was supposed to find out.
You were the most popular girl in school, known for your looks, good grades, and kind personality. You had a nice group of friends and the whole school at your feet, students and staff alike. As the student representative, you had an image to keep up and needed everyone to think you were perfect; and they did. So you always wore a smile on your face, kept your head up and made sure your uniform was creaseless, all while maintaining the highest scores in your year. Always being friendly to your peers and helping them out prevented anyone from thinking you were a stuck-up goody-two-shoes. You made high school look like a breeze.
But such a life didn’t exist. Who was happy waking up at 6 a.m. every day and dedicating all of their time to schoolwork and student life? You certainly weren’t. What you thrived off of was having everyone think you were. Hearing whispers in the corridor of, “She’s so pulled together!” or “I wish I had her life”, now, those skyrocketed you to heaven. The cherry on top was a nod of approval from a teacher or an “outstanding job again, Y/N” as they handed you back your graded paper. Your favorite color had become the red of the pens your teachers used to write A+ at the top of the page. 
You’d always been academically gifted, but as you heard those words more and more, you’d started craving them and doing everything to hear them again until they started controlling you instead of the other way around. Everything you did needed to be perfect. And that was how you had created this persona of the perfect girl who had it all together at the ripe age of 17. But that’s exactly what it was; a persona. 
As soon as you stepped off the bus and waved goodbye to your friends, you became another person. Or more accurately, you reverted back to your natural self. You weren’t an evil person by any means; it wasn’t your intention to actively deceive everyone at school, it was more of a side effect of keeping up appearances. Only your family and your closest friend Sumin knew what you were truly like: greedy, messy, short-tempered, self-centered, and sometimes downright insufferable. Your younger siblings, Sunoo and Yeeun, liked to joke that you had a button you switched on and off whenever you left the house. When on, you were the sweetest girl ever, but when off, all your vices crept up and let themselves known to the world, or rather to your family. You didn’t mean to make them suffer, but after a long day of being perfect, you needed to blow off some steam; if they had to be your metaphorical punching bag, so be it. 
When Sunoo entered high school, you made him swear he wouldn’t say a thing to anyone. You trusted him and knew he wouldn’t let your secret out - it was too entertaining for him to see you act perfect at school and reveal your true self at home. There was no risk of anyone finding out - you were so intent on keeping the act up that nothing ever slipped you. It had been that way since middle school, and your senior year of high school was going to be no different.
Nobody was supposed to find out, so what was Park Sunghoon doing right in front of you in the frozen aisle of the corner convenience store, just when you happened to be bare-faced, with thick glasses on and a pimple bright red from just having been popped, in your comfiest pajamas, and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s in hand?
“Kim Y/N? Y/N, is that you?”
You froze in place, not knowing how to react. There was no way this, your worst nightmare, was actually happening.
When you regained your senses, flight seemed the best way out of this. You avoided Sunghoon’s curious gaze and curtly replied, “No, sorry, I don’t know who that is,” before walking away, iron grip on the ice cream.
But the boy was quicker than you and grabbed you by the wrist, forcing you to turn around. “It is you! Come on, Y/N, aren’t we friends? Do you not recognize me or something?”
If it wasn’t for the panic coursing through your veins at that moment, you might’ve laughed at his question. How could you not recognize the Park Sunghoon? Along with Park Jongseong and Sim Jaeyun, or Jay and Jake as they liked to be called, he was only the most popular guy in your year - hell, in the whole school. The three of them had gained attention from freshman year as the three handsome soccer players. Jake and Sunghoon had been attached at the hip since kindergarten, Jay joining them sometime in middle school when he came back from his year abroad in Seattle. 
Your parents and Jay’s had been college best friends and you two had therefore grown up together, and even used to be quite close. You’d grown apart when he joined Jake and Sunghoon’s friend group, and although you still got on well, there was always a bit of an awkward atmosphere when you caught up with each other.
The three friends had quite different personalities but their complicity and shared history made them stick together. Jake was known for his academic achievements, rivaling yours, and his friendly personality; Jay, for his surprisingly funny antics once you got past the somewhat menacing appearance (which he blames on his resting bitch face). Sunghoon, on the other hand, was as cold as ice, so much that he’d earned the nickname of ice prince, but girls continued to swoon over him due to his incredibly handsome features. When turning down girls, Jake and Jay always tried to let them down gently, but Sunghoon wasn’t one to hold back: he’d laugh in their face or straight up say no, staring them right in the eyes. Most confessions ended in tears (not his, obviously), but girls kept on testing their luck, thinking they might be the one to melt the ice prince’s cold, dead heart.
Clearly, you weren’t Sunghoon’s biggest fan.
His behavior had always made you wonder why Jay and Jake were friends with a person like him. They went back a long time, but how did Sunghoon not become a nice and approachable person like his two best friends? They both seemed so genuine, but he looked like he was hiding something. This was what had made you weary of him; you knew all too well how easily an image that was the opposite of reality could be created. So on one hand, you sort of felt for him, thinking he might be in a similar situation as you. But on the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of jealousy: if you acted the way he did, you wouldn’t receive half the admiration you did. Hell, you’d probably be hated for it - no one likes a girl that’s both successful and bitchy about it. 
One thing was sure, though, and that was that you wouldn’t call the two of you friends, as he just had.
“Y/N? You okay?”
The pure panic in your eyes must’ve made Sunghoon realize something was wrong. He released you and looked you up and down, trying to take your appearance in. The Y/N he was seeing right then was worlds away from the one he was accustomed to at school. 
You realized there was no ignoring him, so you collected yourself and faced Sunghoon. “Uh, yeah, hi, Sunghoon. Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone I knew here.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, no wonder. You look quite… different from what you usually do,” he said, voice laced with sarcasm.
This whole situation got you dumbfounded. You usually knew exactly what to retort when somebody messed with you, your friend or a classmate, but this time, you were completely speechless. You just wanted to escape.
“Well, it was nice seeing you Sunghoon, but I need to get home.” You pivoted on your heels and started walking again, but Sunghoon had other plans.
“Aw, come on, so quickly? We barely got to chat!” He followed you through the aisles as you picked up the remaining ingredients on the list your mother had given you as quickly as you could.
“I didn’t know you needed glasses. Do you wear lenses at school?”
“Yes. I need them to see.”
“I figured.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and your shock was slowly morphing into anger. Were teenage girls so blind that they’d have a crush on someone with such an abominable personality, no matter how angelic his face was? 
“I really like your outfit, by the way. Looks super comfy.” And as if your embarrassment couldn’t grow any bigger, he added: “Too bad you got a stain on the shirt.”
You looked down at yourself and noticed a huge grease stain on the collar of your shirt. Admittedly, you didn’t always have the best table manners. 
You swore under your breath. It was quiet for a couple minutes as you arrived at the register and paid for your items, Sunghoon still on your tail. He had apparently given up his purchases to focus solely on tormenting you. When you walked out of the store, you thought he might finally be done. But of course, he wasn’t.
“You know, my sister has this really effective pimple cream she uses. Do you want me to ask her what brand it is?”
That was it. You sighed deeply. “Alright, Park. What do you want?”
When you turned to face him fully, arms crossing over your chest and an obviously tired expression on your face, the mischievous glint in his eyes made you realize something. That idiot was enjoying this. 
Indeed, he beamed down at you. You had probably never seen him smiling so widely. “Wow, Y/N, didn’t know you could have such an attitude.”
You stayed silent and continued staring at him, waiting for an answer. He mirrored your pose, out of instinct or to irritate you, you weren’t sure.
“You know, when I moved to this neighborhood before the start of school, I was definitely not expecting to see Perfect Miss Y/N out in her pajamas buying ice cream. I thought you were more into, I don’t know, rescuing puppies from fires or something. That sounds like something you’d do in your free time.”
“Well, is there anything wrong with what I’m doing?”
“Oh, absolutely not! Just a surprising sight. Makes me wonder what the rest of the school would say…” He looked intently at you, clearly waiting for a reaction. You weren’t about to give him one, though.
You chuckled and rolled your eyes, shifting your weight on your right foot. “Yeah, like anyone would believe you if you said you saw me looking anything else other than perfect.” It might’ve sounded arrogant, but that was the image people had of you. Even your friends asked you how you did it - if only they knew the truth.
At that, his smile got even brighter. “Don’t worry about that, I won’t need to tell anyone. I’ll just show them!” He pulled out his phone, showing you a picture of you in your god-awful pajamas searching for your favorite flavor of ice cream.
He watched as your face fell, taking your silence as an opportunity to go on. “You were so engrossed in the tubs of ice cream that you didn’t notice a dashingly handsome and tall young man very obviously taking pictures of you.”
This put you into panic mode again. It might have seemed foolish, but you hadn’t worked for years to create a perfect version of yourself only for a stupid boy to destroy it all with one picture. 
You sighed and lowered your head, taking a moment to think. You didn’t know Sunghoon that well, but you didn’t put it past him to send that picture to everyone and ruin your image in the process. You opted for honesty instead of bluff. You took your glasses off and looked back up at him; even if you couldn’t see him as well without them, maybe he’d see the despair in your eyes better.
“Park. I mean, Sunghoon. You can’t show that picture to anyone, okay? You have no idea how bad I need to keep up appearances. It’s really important to me, so just delete the picture and let’s never talk about this again, yeah?”
You tried smiling at him, but his expression infuriated you. You could tell he had something else up his sleeve. “Now, Y/N, why would I do that? If I’m gonna do something for you, you should do something for me.”
You weren’t sure if you wanted to hear the rest of his thoughts, but you needed to know. Eyeing him suspiciously, you told him to go on.
“Well, I can’t think of anything right now, but I’ll let you know when I do, okay? I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He flashed another one of his smiles, patted your head, and walked away, just like that, leaving you standing outside the convenience store on your own, a melting tub of ice cream in your plastic bag. At least for now, you were safe.
Right?
“You saw Park Sunghoon? As in, the Park Sunghoon?” your little sister Yeeun asked, looking at you with huge eyes. You two and Sunoo were sitting on your bed, sharing the ice cream by eating it directly from the tub.
“Yes, that’s literally what I’ve been saying this whole time. How do you know him anyway? You’re still in middle school…”
“Are you crazy? He’s famous in our whole school district! I wish we had cute boys in my school as well,” she sulked, pouting.
“That’s not the point, Yeeun,” Sunoo chimed in, then turned to you. “Well, this is either bad news or the start of a beautiful romance.”
“Sunoo! Take this seriously! I’m in a huge dilemma right now.”
Your siblings shared a knowing glance and snickered.
“Hey! I’m right here. I’m not overreacting, you know. If he does send those pictures around, I’m done for.”
“Oh, come on, Y/N, you’d be so much better off if you could be yourself at school. I see you there almost everyday, and the way you laugh always sounds so fake. Nobody would care if you forgot to put makeup on one day or had a crease in your shirt. If anything, it’d make you look more human.”
You could see where Sunoo was coming from, but you chose to ignore it. You sighed deeply. “You guys just don’t get it. They all see me as this perfect, put-together girl. If I showed them even a glimpse of the truth, everything would shatter. It’s too late to go back now.” You ignored their pitying looks and took another big spoonful of ice cream.
It was their turn to sigh. As always, it was impossible to reason with you. Deep in your thoughts, you added: “You know, there was something really off about him today. I’d never seen him act that way before.”
Your siblings looked at you questioningly. “He’s always so cold and distant towards everyone. I’ve only seen him smile when he’s laughing with Jake and Jay or when he makes fun of someone. But just now, he kept smiling at me like he was having fun. He even patted my head when he left.”
At that, Yeeun swooned dramatically, hands over her heart. You looked over at her and said, “I’d be swooning too if it was any other guy than Park Sunghoon. I’m more confused than anything right now, he was a completely different person from when I see him at school.”
They exchanged another look. “You guys stop doing that!”
“Well, it’s just that that sounds an awful lot like someone I know,” Sunoo replied. Realization hit you and you scoffed, mildly offended. At least you were nice to others at school and didn’t act like an asshole with a superiority complex.
“Anyway,” he continued, “what will you do about Sunghoon?”
“I’m not too sure. I guess all I can do is wait and see whatever it is he could want from me.”
“Yeah, do that, and then date him, please. If I can’t have him as my boyfriend, then I’ll have him as my brother-in-law,” Yeeun joked. You didn’t have it in you to retort anything back and started laughing along with her. 
If everything did shatter, at least you’d have your siblings to make you laugh.
— 
The next day, you made your way to the bus stop after your daily morning routine: jogging, showering, eating a filling breakfast, choosing the perfect accessories for your school uniform, applying just the right amount of makeup and going over your subjects and tasks of the day. As always, efficiency is the key. You had become so used to this routine that your body did it on its own, which let your mind wander wherever it pleased. Usually, you’d use this time to prepare yourself for the day ahead, but today, the only thing on your mind was Park Sunghoon. What was that boy up to? Was he up to anything, or did you completely imagine his mischievousness yesterday? In any case, you hoped it would all be over soon. 
You got on the bus and sat down next to Sumin. Your close friend group at school consisted of her, Park Sieun, Lee Heeseung and Choi Jiung, but she was the only one who knew about your secret. You had been friends for so long that you hadn’t even been able to hide it: she’d seen you from all angles, both before, during and after your transformation to who you were now. It was nice having someone else than your siblings to rely on and tell everything to. 
“Minie, you’ll never guess what happened yesterday. I ran into Park Sunghoon at the convenience store next to our apartment unit.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but her reaction wasn’t as big as you thought it’d be. She smiled and said, “Huh! I knew he’d moved to our neighborhood, but I wouldn’t have thought he’d live so close to you that you’d even shop at the same place.”
She registered your confused expression and continued. “Didn’t you hear? He moved out of his parents’ house at the end of summer. Something about a huge fight with them that made him move out. But there are always so many rumors about him and his group that I don’t know what to believe.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, unsure what to say. Now that you thought about it, Sunghoon had mentioned moving in your conversation yesterday, but you were so preoccupied with him seeing you in your wild state that you hadn’t paid much attention to his comment.
“Wait, did he do something? Your face is telling me he did something.”
You got closer to her face and gestured for her to do the same. With lowered heads and in hushed tones, you said, “He saw me on off-mode.”
She gasped and jolted back in surprise, eyes wide and eyebrows shooting straight up. “What?”
You shushed her and pulled her in by her shoulders. “He even took pictures.” Your grip tight, you held her from jumping again. “That’s not even it. You know how he's always really cold and distant?”
“You mean how he’s always being a douchebag?” She scoffed. “Yeah, I know.”
You remembered that Sumin had been one of the first of many girls who shot their shot with Park Sunghoon, only to get rejected. You both grimaced at the memory that always left a bad taste in your mouth.
“He was completely different yesterday. Kept following me around the store and, I’m not sure, teasing me? Like trying to get a reaction out of me? In a weird half-friendly half-bully way.”
“Hm, you’re right, that doesn’t sound like him,” she mused. “It does sound like a stupid teenage boy though, which I guess he is, no matter how hard he tries to pretend he’s not.”
This is what you loved about Sumin. She could see right through people, and never hesitated to say what she thought of them, especially when they acted the way Sunghoon did. Sure, there were some personal feelings attached there, but she had quickly gotten over them when she realized how much of a douche he was towards everyone else.
When the bus stopped to pick up some more students, Heeseung hopped on. You quickly told Sumin to keep it a secret, at which she smiled and made a motion as if zipping her lips and throwing the key. If you told your friends about Sunghoon, you’d have to tell them the truth about how he had dirt on you, but you wanted to keep your friendship clean. You chatted the rest of the bus ride away and tried not to worry over Park Sunghoon too much.
When you finally got to school, you, Heeseung, and Sumin made your way to your classroom to join Jiung and Sieun. Before you could get there, however, Jungwon, an underclassman you had talked to a couple times for student council meetings, called out your name. You told your friends to go on without you and turned to the younger boy.
“Jungwon! Hi, what’s up?”
He seemed flattered that you had remembered his name but quickly got on with his business. “Um, I’m not sure why, but Sunghoon told me to come and get you? I’ve never talked to him, I think he just picked me randomly and assigned me a task…”
You sighed. Park Sunghoon truly was something. “Thanks for telling me, Jungwon. I’ll make sure he gets an earful for this, he has no right to boss students around like that.”
Jungwon’s eyes doubled in size as he frantically waved his hands in dismissal. “No! No need to do that, I don’t want to get in trouble with him. I’m just here to relay the message.” At that, he scurried off, and you headed towards Sunghoon’s homeroom. 
When you walked in, a few people were in the room, some girls gossiping with each other, a couple students doing some last-minute revision for a test. You found Sunghoon sitting at his desk, snickering with Jay and Jake and hoped that the subject of their laughter wasn’t you. They noticed you approaching and the two decent boys greeted you; the other one eyed you, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. What could he possibly have in mind?
“Hi, guys.” You smiled at Jay and Jake and reflexively stood closer to Jay. “Sunghoon, Jungwon said you wanted to see me?” you asked, trying to keep your impatience at bay.
“Oh, was that his name? Well, thank heavens for him, ‘cause I forgot my lunch at home. Would you be a sweetheart and go buy me something at the cafeteria? You know how everything runs out as soon as lunch period starts, and I get really cranky when I’m hungry.”
You stared at him, wide-eyed. His two friends’ reaction wasn’t very different from yours. Go buy him lunch? That’s what he wanted you to do?
“What? You don’t want to? That’s too bad, cause there’s a picture I think everybo-”
You cut him off before he could finish. “No! Of course I’ll do it! Can’t have our star player go hungry, now can we?” You cringed at your own words and Jay eyed you suspiciously. Sunghoon beamed, and Jake’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of you in pure confusion. “Um, any preferences?”
His smile got wider. “A tuna mayo would be amazing. Thanks, Y/N! You’re the best!”
“Sure…” you mumbled and quickly walked away, more bemused than ever. You checked your watch. You had 10 minutes before the first bell rang, and you could not be late for class, which meant you needed to hurry. 
You got back to Sunghoon’s classroom just a minute before the first bell. To your dismay, the class was almost full, and girls had gathered around him, trying to get his attention, but he seemed unbothered by their presence. You braced yourself and walked towards him. As your presence rarely went by unnoticed, most eyes were on you and Sunghoon. Not only were you two some of the most popular kids in school, you also happened to be handing him his lunch, a never-seen-before sight between the two of you. 
“I also got you banana milk, for good measure…” 
What had seemed like a great idea a few minutes ago, something to appease the devil in him, now felt like the biggest mistake of your life. The girls around him started whispering left and right and you weren’t sure whether they felt bad for you, sensing an incoming rejection, or wanted to tear you to shreds for even trying. 
The whispers grew even louder when Sunghoon took the sandwich and milk from your hands, thanking you with a smile. You’d be lying if you said your heart hadn’t done a small jump in your chest at that moment. As much as you hated to admit it, if looks were the sole factor for popularity, then you could definitely understand why Park Sunghoon was so loved. His face looked like it had been carved by the gods themselves. When his eyebrows weren’t turned in a frown, his eyes looked almost sweet, especially when he laughed. His two moles gave him so much charm, the curve of his nose was so delicate and his pink lips looked so, so soft… 
You cleared your throat and smiled back at him before turning around to walk to your own classroom.
“Wait, Y/N!”
You turned back around, all eyes on you. You could feel Jay’s eyes burning holes into you. Sunghoon was still smiling. You thought you’d seen him smile more in the past two days than you had in all the years you’d known him.
“I’ll see you later.”
And indeed see him later you did. You always hung back a bit after classes ended to get homework done or work out student council issues. Being in an empty classroom brought you some peace and quiet, very different from the busyness and noise of your home. You couldn’t even focus in your own room, your siblings or parents always barging in to disturb you. The after-school janitors now knew you by name and saved cleaning the classroom you were sitting in for last. 
You had been barely sitting there for 5 minutes, nose buried in a math problem, when Park Sunghoon graciously strode in, swung the chair in front of you around and sat on it, arms crossed over its back as he peered at you. You didn’t even bother to look up at him as you spoke. “What, Park?”
“Oh no, back to last name basis already?” he joked. You didn’t laugh. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wow, tough crowd. Anyways, thanks for the sandwich today.”
This made you look at him. Or rather, shoot daggers at him. “Yeah, what the hell was that all about? Did you have to pull that little stunt in front of everybody? You know what our school is like! Rumors are gonna start spreading like wildfire.”
“I already told you,” he said with a defensive tone. “Forgot my lunch, everything was gonna run out, didn’t want to get hungry later,” he said as he shrugged, completely ignoring the latter part of your complaint.
“And you couldn’t have gone and gotten it yourself?”
He beamed. If it wasn’t so damn beautiful, you probably would have started getting tired of his stupid smile already. “Why would I do that when I could get you to do it?”
You sighed. “I knew you weren’t the nicest guy, but I didn’t know you could be such an asshole, Park.”
If you hadn’t been staring him down so intently, you might not have noticed the falter in his smile, so quick it was.
“Oh, come on, Y/N. If anything, I’m doing you a favor by not sending out to everyone that picture you so desperately want to keep secret. Thing is, doing that wouldn’t benefit me in any way, except for getting the satisfaction of seeing everybody realize you’re not as perfect as they think you are. Whereas holding it over your head allows me to do basically anything I want with you. And that, that is just so much fun,” he beams, lowering his voice into a whisper for the last sentence.
What a psycho, you thought. You just sighed once more and returned to your textbook, too weirded out to say anything back. You hoped the silence would make Sunghoon realize how creepy what he had just said was. 
It was quiet in the room, only the sound of your pencil scratching your notebook could be heard. Sunghoon sat in the same position and watched you working. He often saw you like this, focused and benched over a desk, in the library or walking past your classroom. But it was always in passing, and looking at you so closely made all the world’s difference. He could see how you scrunched your nose when the problem got particularly difficult, or how your smirk as you solved another one made your left dimple appear. He also liked the annoyed looks you gave him every once in a while, as if his presence was disturbing your focus. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about seeing someone who always went about their way with such purpose sitting in such silence.
He decided to break that silence. “You know, Jay was asking about you earlier.”
You kept your eyes trained on your notebook but abruptly stopped writing, your pencil leaving a small scratch on the paper. This didn’t go unnoticed by Sunghoon. “Did he?” you said, trying to sound as uninterested as possible, although you couldn’t help but be curious. Ever since Jay and you had grown apart, there was always a part of you wondering what he was up to, how he was doing, if he thought of you once in a while or reminisced about the good old times as you sometimes did. 
“Yeah. I mean, everyone did, but I didn’t really care,” he answers simply, and even though you’re itching to push him to say more, you stay quiet. “You’re right, by the way, I do know the people in our school. The rumors have already started spreading. Up to you whether you wanna deny them or not, though,” he said with a smirk.
“Don’t even think about it, Park. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll let them think we have a thing going on. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, I know. Anyway, he wanted to know why you did that for me. Guess he was jealous you didn’t do it for him, too.”
“Why would he be?” you asked, trying to make the question sound as innocent as possible. 
“Well, you two go a long way back, right?” he asked tentatively, as if testing the waters.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Then it was probably weird for him to see his childhood best friend and his best bro interacting out of nowhere, even though we’ve both seen each other around a lot and nothing has ever come out of that. Don’t you think?”
A beat passed as you thought about it. “Yeah, I guess that’d look weird to him,” you replied, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.
You quickly wrote down your last answer, packed up your things, and stood up. “Well, I’m off now. I’ll see you around, unfortunately.”
Sunghoon, surprised at your quick departure, scrambled to get off his chair and chased after you. “Do you want me to drop you off? I’ve got a car, you know. Much more glamorous than the bus.”
You turned around and looked at him. “I’d rather get hit by said bus than get in your car, Park.”
He stood there, watching you walk away with a smirk on his face as your ponytail swayed from side to side. This was going to be a challenge. You were going to be a challenge. 
Thing is, he loved a good challenge.
Back home, you flopped down on your bed and buried your face in your pillow. You laid there for a few minutes, taking some time to gather your thoughts and try to understand Sunghoon’s actions. It was of no use; you weren’t a mind-reader, and he seemed impossible to figure out. He could make you do basically whatever he wanted to, and he decided to make you get him lunch, creating rumors along the way? What could he possibly get out of that?
Your reflexions were quickly interrupted, however, by a flurry of incoming messages on your phone. Someone had posted a photo of you handing his banana milk to Sunghoon on your school’s Instagram account - because apparently, your school was so obsessed with gossip that they had created an Instagram page just for it. The photo had blown up among your peers and it made you wonder if people really were that bored with their lives.
People you barely knew but that felt entitled to knowing your relationship status were DMing you, asking about today’s events. You quickly got tired of it, so you texted your worried and confused friends that you didn’t feel like talking tonight and would catch up with them tomorrow. You opened your textbook, deciding that studying would be the best and most efficient distraction.
When your parents called you and your siblings for dinner, you still weren’t feeling great. Your family quickly registered your annoyed expression and could only hope for the best. You already weren’t the easiest to live with, but when you were tired, you just got a hundred times worse.
“So, how was everyone’s day?” your mom asked cheerily.
Yeeun’s eyes lit up instantly. “Mine was great! I met a really cute boy. His name is Nishimura Riki and he just transferred from Japan.”
“Oh, that’s nice!”
“You’re too young to be thinking about boys, Yeeun.”
Your mom and dad had replied at the same time, then gave each other a stern look.
“I’m not thinking about him, Dad, just looking,” your sister replied, earning a chuckle from your concerned father. 
“Mine was alright. I guess the start-of-a-new-year excitement has already worn off. After a week,” Sunoo said with a sigh. 
Your mom turned to you. “What about you, Y/N?”
“It was fine.”
The sharpness of your tone changed the atmosphere in the room at once. You ignored the looks your family exchanged and continued eating your food, eyes not leaving your plate.
For some reason, Sunoo thought it’d be a great idea to chime in. “She’s not happy because she had to buy Park Sunghoon his lunch and everybody went crazy over it.”
“Sunoo!” you protested. Your parents didn’t need to know about this sort of stuff.
“Park Sunghoon? Is that someone we’re supposed to know?” your dad questioned.
Yeeun scoffed. “Uh, he’s only the most popular and handsome guy at Y/N and Sunoo’s school, dad. Duh.”
“Right. Duh,” your dad said, imitating your sister’s tone.
“And why did you have to buy his lunch, Y/N?” your mom asked.
“Because he saw what she looks like when she’s not at school,” Sunoo said, not even giving you the chance to reply yourself.
“Sunoo!” you scolded again.
“And now I guess he’s using that against her to get her to do what he wants? Right, Y/N?”
You glared at your brother and let a beat pass. “Right,” you reluctantly admitted.
“Lucky…” your sister mused, expression like she was daydreaming about being Sunghoon’s personal assistant.
Your dad ignored your sister and looked straight at you. “That’s inadmissible, Y/N. You can’t let him do that.”
“Your father’s right, sweetie. It’s not right,” your mom added when you stayed silent.
With everybody’s eyes on you, you felt obligated to reply. “It’s fine. It’s not like he asked me to do anything crazy. I’m sure he’ll stop soon enough.”
“You know, boys that age, they’ll do anything to get a girl’s attention,” your dad warned. “Just ignore him and he’ll go away.”
“If she ignores him, he’ll tell everyone what she’s really like,” your brother explained.
“And what’s so bad about that? I’m sure it’d be easier if you stopped lying to everyone.”
Everyone suddenly stopped in their motions, wondering why your mom would say something so true yet so controversial. You looked up at her. “What’s so bad about that? What’s so bad? I don’t know, maybe the fact that I’ve worked so hard all these years for everybody to like me and look up to me only for a stupid picture taken by a stupid boy to ruin everything,” you said all in one breath, voice coming out harsh. You were tired of having to explain the same thing over and over again - your parents just didn’t understand why you did what you did.
Your mom opened and closed her mouth again, knowing it was useless trying to talk sense into you. It never ended well when you had this conversation.
“Who put mushrooms in this anyway? You know I hate mushrooms,” you said before filling up your bowl and taking it to eat in your room, making sure you’d slammed your door behind you.
On the bus the next day, you tried to explain the events of the previous day to your friends.
“There’s nothing really to it. He just asked me to get him lunch so I did, and when I handed it to him, his whole class was there and saw everything.”
“I get that, but I just don’t understand why he made you do it in the first place, or why you agreed,” Heeseung said, “it’s so unlike the both of you to do something like that.”
You hadn’t even thought to come up with an excuse for your and Sunghoon’s yesterday - your friends were definitely super confused, but you didn’t want to tell them the truth, so you had to quickly find something to say that was somewhat believable, and change the subject.
“I have no idea why he did what he did, but I didn’t want to cause a scene so I just agreed. I don’t really care, to be honest, I just wish it didn’t have such consequences. People seem to think we’re characters on a stupid Netflix coming-of-age series or something, when we literally just go to their school.”
As soon as you’d turned your phone back on this morning, it started pinging with all the messages that had flown in since last night. People were talking about it everywhere: Kim Y/N, highly sought-after bachelorette, had offered Park Sunghoon, notorious rejecter of girls and breaker of hearts, a sandwich and a banana milk, and he had taken them. What’s more, he had been seen at lunch heartily eating them. This was serious.
You didn’t think things could get any worse until you got to school. You were used to random people coming up to you in the hallways or in class for help, except today they weren’t asking for help at all - they were asking what was up between you and Sunghoon, as though handing him a tuna mayo was like asking for his hand in marriage. Most of them were just curious, but some, especially his fanclub members, had an aggressive tone to their voice, which you weren’t used to. If people started liking you less because of Sunghoon, you were going to kill him.
But you had to hold onto that thought, because an all too familiar voice had suddenly called out to you on your way to class. You took a deep breath and turned around, watching him take long strides towards you. You immediately became aware of the amount of people in the hallway and realized you couldn’t talk to him like you had the previous day in front of everybody. You mustered the fakest smile you could and greeted him.
“Hi, Sunghoon. What can I help you with today?”
He smiled, obviously enjoying the fact that you had to be nice to him. “I’ve got my sports bag because of practice later tonight. Mind holding onto that for me for the day?”
Your fake smile turned a bit crazy as your eyes widened in disbelief. "Don’t you have a locker for that, Sunghoon?”
“Yeah, but it’s so much more fun if you’re the one to hold it.” And with that, he threw the bag in your direction, leaving approximately 0.5 seconds to catch it. “I’ll need that later today. Meet me in front of the locker rooms after school, yeah?”
He didn’t bother to wait for your answer and walked away, Jake and Jay following closely behind. Jay sent you a questioning look, to which you could only reply with a shrug. If it wasn’t for all the students in the hallway, you would’ve been yelling Sunghoon’s ear off at that point. Unfortunately, that wasn’t a possibility, so you just smiled to your friends who were looking more confused than ever.
“Let’s just go to class, guys.”
Throughout the whole day, you could feel people staring at you, then at the bag you were holding, then starting to whisper among themselves. You tried your best to concentrate in class so you could momentarily stop pondering over what Sunghoon’s evil master plan might be, but everyone seemed bent on making that usually simple feat impossible. When 3:30 p.m. finally came around, you bid your friends goodbye and headed to the boys’ locker room. Every boy walking in eyed you suspiciously, unsure as to what you could be doing there. Of course, Sunghoon had to take his sweet time to get there. 
Staring at the opposite wall and planning Sunghoon’s murder in your head, you hadn’t noticed Jay and Jake arriving. Jay signaled for his friend to go inside the locker room and told him he’d join him in a minute. He waved his hand in front of you to get your attention, a smile on his face. You sighed in relief at the familiar sight of your friend.
“Hey, Jay. Sorry I didn’t see you.”
“You okay, Y/N? You look like you’re about to murder someone,” he said, slightly amused.
“If only you knew,” you mumbled.
He noticed the bag in your hand. “You waiting for Sunghoon?”
“Yeah. If only he could hurry up a little bit. I’ve got stuff to do.”
There was something about Jay that made it impossible to lie to him. Maybe it was the fact that you had known each other for so long, way before you’d turned into what you were now, that made you feel as though showing a side of you that gets annoyed and impatient and doesn’t smile all the time was okay.
Jay looked at his feet before looking back up at you. You were still staring at the wall but your murderous thoughts had somewhat calmed. “Mind telling me what this whole thing with Sunghoon is about?”
You turned to him and were about to fumble for an answer when someone interrupted you. “What whole thing with me?”
Whew. Saved by Sunghoon. You didn’t like that it was thanks to him that you could get out of answering Jay, but at least you didn’t have to come up with yet another stupid excuse.
Jay turned his attention to his friend and stood up straighter. “You know, making her get you lunch or hold your bag all day. There’s dozens of girls who’d be more than happy to do that for you, so why Y/N? She doesn’t have time for this stuff.”
You looked at Jay with surprise. Sure, you were friends, but you hadn’t thought he’d defend you like that in front of Sunghoon.
“Well, Y/N’s just such a nice, reliable person. No one better to ask to do those things.” What a reason, you thought. He turned to you and took the bag from your hands. “Thanks, Y/N. I’ll see you outside in a couple minutes.”
“Huh? What do you mean? I’m leaving,” you said, body already headed towards the other direction.
“What? You can’t leave before practice has even started. Go to the benches outside, we’ll be out in a few.”
You were about to open your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “You don’t want to?” He started pulling out his phone. “That’s funny, because there’s a pict-”
“I’ll be on the benches! See you soon!” you quickly said, pushing the two boys inside the locker room, Sunghoon smirking, Jay looking at you in utter confusion.
Girls sat in a few different groups in the bleachers. You recognized the girls in one of those groups, so you decided to sit with them. As you approached, they quickly looked at each other and then back at you, expressions half-friendly, half-what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here. 
“Hi guys! Mind if I join?”
“Hi Y/N! No, of course not, come sit,” Jake’s girlfriend, Yujin, said. 
“Are you guys here to watch practice?”
“Yeah! I’m here on girlfriend duties for Jake. These two are just here for the eye candy and to keep me company,” Yujin explained.
“Yeah, but mostly for the eye candy,” added her friend Wonyoung. 
“What about you, Y/N? I’ve never seen you here,” asked the last girl, Gaeul.
“Oh, um, Sunghoon asked me to come, actually.” You regretted your words as soon as you’d let them out. They all ooh-ed at your response, making you blush, which just egged them on. This was nothing to blush about, Y/N. You’d just made the rumors get a hundred times worse with one sentence.
“The whole school’s been talking about you two, you know. Anything you wanna share? Don’t worry, we can keep a secret,” said Wonyoung with a wink. You chuckled awkwardly.
“Oh my gosh, yes, tell us!”
“Guys, don’t make her uncomfortable,” Yujin chimed in, smiling at you. You returned her smile, grateful, once again, that you didn’t have to explain your new link to Sunghoon. “Look, practice is starting.”
You turned your head towards the field as the soccer players started doing laps as per the coach’s instructions. Your eyes immediately drifted towards Sunghoon without you even realizing it. His lean figure hypnotized you. The last time you had had PE with him was in freshman year, and puberty had hit him like a fine, fine truck. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he lightly jogged next to his friends, chatting like it was nothing. You weren’t being very subtle with your stare and he eventually noticed you, sending a wink your way. This made you snap out of your reverie and you scowled at him, as if he could make out your annoyed expression from such a distance. You turned back to the girls, who were giggling at you.
“Wow, those were some serious heart eyes you were giving him, Y/N,” Gaeul giggled.
You opened your mouth in mild shock. “Was not!”
“Sure, whatever you say,” she replied knowingly. “Well, look all you want. Warm-up is the best part. It gets boring when they actually start playing.”
“No way! Watching them play is my favorite part,” Yujin disagreed.
“Yeah, that’s cause you’ve got someone to root for,” retorted Wonyoung. She looked at you slyly. “Well, I guess Y/N does, too.”
You scoffed. “Believe me, I will not be rooting for him.”
You started staring at him again, this time with a glare in your eyes. From their silence, you deduced the girls must’ve judged it a better idea to not question you too much. After the boys were done with running exercises and stretching (which you had enjoyed watching a bit too much, if you spoke truthfully), they started playing. The coach split the boys into two teams, Jay leading one and Sunghoon the other. It was a very close game. You could never tell who was leading, although that might have been due to your extensive lack of knowledge in the sport. All you knew was that you desperately wanted to see Sunghoon lose; that might put him down a peg. What you told yourself, however, was that you wanted Jay to win. So when he scored a goal, you surprised the girls next to you, the boys on the field and yourself as you jumped up and down, cheering for him. Realizing what you were doing, you quickly sat down and sent him an awkward thumbs up.
Jay tried to hide it, but he was blushing. Hard. Truth be told, he had noticed your little eye contact moment with Sunghoon during warm-up and hadn’t particularly enjoyed it. So seeing you cheer for him like that made him swell with pride, which only grew when Sunghoon scored and you barely reacted. 
When the game was over, you thought you might be able to finally go home and start studying. But Sunghoon had other plans for you, as always these past couple days. Heading towards the showers, he motioned for you to come down from the benches. As you did, Jay walked past, and you smiled at each other.
“Good game.”
“Thanks, Y/N.” He continued walking as Sunghoon reached you.
“What about me? I scored a goal, too.”
“Oh, did you? Didn’t even notice," you said, looking at your nails. The polish was starting to chip - you’d need to reapply a layer tonight.
“Whatever. Wait for me, yeah?”
“What? No! I gotta go home!” But your protests were in vain, as he completely ignored you. 
You waited outside the school with Yujin, Wonyoung and Gaeul. After a little while, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon joined you guys, having successfully showered and not smelling of sweat and dirt, thank God. Yujin was dropping her boyfriend and her friends off, so they bid their goodbyes and headed towards her car. Sunghoon and Jay also started to walk towards the parking lot, leaving you standing alone, not sure what to do. Sunghoon turned around and looked at you with a frown.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know, what are you doing?”
“I’m dropping you and Jay off.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, taken aback. “Didn’t know I was just supposed to guess that.”
As soon as Sunghoon started to drive, you noticed the awkward air between the three of you. Luckily, after years of being a people-pleaser, you had become somewhat of an expert in making small talk, which helped prevent a silent ride. You don’t think you could’ve gone through that without a mental breakdown.
Because you and Sunghoon lived closer to each other (and we all know the consequences of that), Jay was dropped off before you. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow at school,” he said before giving you a last glance.
“Bye, Jay.”
“See you, bro.”
Thankfully, you only lived a couple minutes by car from Jay’s and hoped the rest of the car ride would be peaceful. Which was really stupid of you to hope for, because you were in the car with Park Sunghoon.
“So, Park Jongseong, huh?” he said, eyes trained on the road in front of him. Even though he was trying to keep his tone light, you thought you detected a slight harshness to his gaze.
“What about him?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
“There’s nothing to say. We’ve just been friends for a long time.”
It was silent for about five seconds. “You really feasted your eyes during warm-up, huh?”
“Shut up, Park.”
“No, it’s alright, I get it. I’d do the same.” He laughed at his own joke that wasn’t really a joke. Why was he laughing, anyway? 
You looked at him. His face was so different from all those times you’d seen it at school. His eyes, rid of the harshness you’d seen earlier, crinkled at the edges and had an amused glint in them. His smile dug pretty dimples into his cheeks and you let your gaze linger long enough to notice he had sharp, vampire-like canines, which were surprisingly cute. You didn’t know why he was showing you a side of him he never showed anyone, except for his close friends, you assumed. You weren’t sure what overcame you, but you chuckled with him. 
“So, do you already know what task you’re gonna give me tomorrow?” you asked, genuinely curious.
“Hmm, haven’t really thought about it yet. I’d rather keep it a surprise, anyway. Keep you on your toes.”
“Pfft. What a great surprise.” He laughed again, and you couldn’t help but join him. He was unusually giddy that day, but you didn’t want to complain. This was a thousand times better than the arrogant Sunghoon with his I’m-better-than-all-of-you facade. What you didn’t know was that he, too, liked your snarky, no-nonsense side infinitely more than the model student, pretty girl persona you had created for yourself.
Finally at your house, you got out of the car and headed to your house after waving goodbye to Sunghoon. He rolled his window down and leaned out of it.
“Y/N?”
You turned around. “Yeah?”
“About your task tomorrow…”
“…Yeah?”
“I’m sure you’ll love it.” He gave you an umpteenth wink, rolled his window back up and drove off.
You weren’t so awful to your parents and siblings that evening.
The next day at school, you were wondering why Sunghoon had said you would love your task. Because you were, in fact, quite loathing it. He had found you studying during your free period after lunch and dragged you to the part of the library where it was okay to talk a bit over whisper level. You were currently going over a scene in The Tempest which you had seen in AP English Lit last year and clearly had no time for. But obviously, that wasn’t a problem to Sunghoon, who just wanted to get a passing grade on his English essay without putting in too much effort. 
After twenty minutes of going over the same five lines, you were about to give up. “Look, Sunghoon, I don’t mind helping you. I’ve tutored dozens of students before so I’m used to it. But you’re not making any effort! If you want to get it, you need to at least try.”
“But it’s so boring,” he whined, not unlike a child. “How am I supposed to find any meaning in this? It’s just stupid people doing stupid stuff on a stupid island.” You cringed at his words and hoped Shakespeare wasn’t listening in on this conversation. 
“It’s not stupid. It’s about power, and being punished for chasing it, and it’s a metaphor fo-”
“Ugh!” he groaned loudly. “You know what, I don’t care enough about this. Just write the essay for me, okay?” He got up and left, again not waiting for your answer. You wanted to protest, but you know what would happen if you said no to any of his requests, so you just quickly got to work.
Everyday over the next couple of weeks, Sunghoon would find something for you to do. Most days, he’d just get you to buy him lunch (although he thankfully had started paying you back) or carry his stuff around like the first two times. He didn’t ask you again to tutor him, however, so you had gotten used to sitting in an empty class together after class, you doing his homework for him and attempting (and failing) to explain it to him, and him alternating between playing on his phone and looking at you. Although it’d flustered you at first, not used to having someone stare at you while you were trying to concentrate, you’d grown somewhat okay with it - all of your complaints were ignored anyway. One time, he even got you to work on his science project with him, a weirdly-shaped volcano he needed to paint and decorate before actually putting the chemicals in. You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t been fun painting it together, occasionally ‘accidentally’ getting paint on the other’s hand or cheek instead of the volcano. 
You went to see him at practice two to three times a week, although you weren’t sure what use that had for him. If anything, you were probably the one who enjoyed yourself more. Perhaps, after being forced to spend so much time with him, you had started to soften up to him. And, perhaps, that made you appreciate his good looks even more. You couldn’t deny the effect his damp hair, stuck to his forehead with sweat, had on you. 
The rumors hadn’t died down, but people had started getting used to seeing the two of you together around, so they didn’t ogle their eyes at you everytime you and Sunghoon had some kind of interaction. Not liking that you couldn’t control people’s opinion of you anymore, you were still a bit bothered by them, but Sunghoon’s little posse of fangirls didn’t seem to be. They’d been the one to question you the most, and you got a few nasty looks in the hallway, but the gossip around school hadn’t stopped them from keeping on following him around, harassing him from morning to afternoon by going to his homeroom at breaks, sitting at a table near him at lunch, and going to see him at practice. Their group had dwindled down, though; most likely, some of them thought you two might be dating and had finally realized they didn’t stand a chance with the one and only Park Sunghoon. Thank God you had your friends and now sometimes Yujin, Wonyoung and Gaeul around you during those times, otherwise, you’d probably have been jumped. Spending so much time with him had kept you a couple times from your friends, which they’d complained about, but sensing that they couldn’t do much about it, they let you be, even though they hadn’t gotten a satisfactory explanation yet.
One person who didn’t want to, or rather couldn’t let it go, though, was Jay. He still couldn’t figure out why you’d started spending so much time with Sunghoon, seemingly overnight, and it created an unpleasant, sour pit in his stomach. Out of all the people you could’ve decided to form a new friendship with, why’d it have to be his best friend, meaning he saw you more often now than before, but not because he was the one you had come to see? Why did you never get him banana milk for lunch, and why’d you only start coming to soccer practice because Sunghoon had asked you to? He’d tried to ask both of you about it, but you always gave him half-assed excuses that didn’t make much sense. 
He realized what he was feeling was jealousy the day you came into their homeroom before the first bell rang and asked Sunghoon how his science project had gone. You’d never asked him how his science project, or any of his projects or tests, for that matter, had gone. He recognized it as the same feeling he had harbored when he had come back from the US in middle school and saw you dating Choi Soobin, or when Lee Heeseung had joined your tight-knit group of friends in freshman year. You and Soobin had only dated for three weeks and a half because you had a relationship-terminating argument over mint chocolate ice cream, and you and Heeseung had never become more than friends, nor had the intention to. But Jay didn’t care about that; all he saw was that there were boys around you that weren’t him. He had never acted upon those feelings, dismissing them as over-protectiveness for someone he had known since forever, but seeing Sunghoon and you laughing together hit too close to home. He couldn’t ignore how he felt because he was reminded of it everyday, but he didn’t know what to do with these newfound emotions.
And what’s the best thing to do whenever you don’t know what to do? Talk to your friends. Or well, in this case, your friend. He didn’t wanna talk about you to Sunghoon. He was a firm believer of bro code, but he didn’t wanna bottle up his feelings like he had all these years. So he went to Jake and told him everything, from your childhood friendship to Soobin, Heeseung and now Sunghoon.
“I know it’s stupid. It’s this whole cliché of, you only realize what you have when you lose it.”
“Well, you haven’t really lost Y/N, you know. It’s not like Sunghoon and her are dating.”
“I guess not, but he clearly likes her. It’d be a dick move to go after her now that they’ve got something going on.”
Jake hesitated for a second, debating whether he should say what he was thinking, but ultimately deciding it might be better to do it. “You know, I’m not sure that he does. You know what Sunghoon’s like. He’s never very honest about his intentions. I don’t wanna bring the subject up with him, cause I don’t wanna cause any drama, but it’s so suspicious to me that he’s suddenly spending time with Y/N when he’s never mentioned her all those years and when he rejects all these girls all the time.”
“I think it’s weird, too,” agreed Jay. “I just can’t seem to figure it out. And I’m a bit scared for Y/N, to be honest. Remember that girl in freshman year? They’d gotten along really well when he suddenly dropped her. I still remember his cold-ass stare when he turned her down. It even chilled me, man.”
“God, yeah, I always forget about that. He may be a jackass to all those girls, but when you know what he’s really like like we do, it seems so unlikely that he’d do something like that.”
Jay sighed and looked out into the distance. “I just hope he doesn’t hurt Y/N.”
Jake looked at his friend, thinking how to phrase his next sentence. “Like I said, I don’t wanna cause any drama… but, man, if you don’t want him to hurt Y/N, just don’t let him. If you make a move on her, you might get to her before he does. Better to do that now than to have to pick up the pieces, don’t you think?”
Jay mentally thanked the heavens for gifting him with a friend like Sim Jaeyun. “Yes, that is much, much better.”
He was going to stop sitting on his feelings and finally let them see the light.
But before that, Sunghoon had another one of his requests for you. You were sitting together in an empty classroom after school as you often did these past weeks. For you, today was an ordinary day, but the boy in front of you had something else in mind. He wasn’t saying anything but you could feel his nervousness and it was starting to make you feel anxious as well.
You lifted your head from your notes and looked at Sunghoon who seemed lost in his thoughts. “What is it, Sunghoon?”
This made him snap out of his reverie. “Um, nothing.”
“Well, seeing how you’ve been tapping your foot at the speed of lightning ever since we got here, it doesn’t seem like nothing.” You crossed your arms over the table and looked at him more intently, eyes asking him to tell you what was on his mind.
He sighed, giving in. “I was just thinking… there’s something I wanna tell you.”
“Go on. “
“I need you to date me.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Park Sunghoon… needed you… to date him? Was he asking you out? The way he’d worded it was a bit odd, but you didn’t put it past him.
Taking in your silence and wide eyes, he quickly added: “Not in that way! I, um, need you to be my fake girlfriend.”
Oh.
So he wasn’t asking you out. You weren’t sure why that made you so upset, but you tried to keep the disappointment out of your eyes and voice.
“Right,” you said, tone a bit harsher than you’d meant it to, “and why would I do that?”
Sunghoon smirked lightly. “Well, first of all, you don’t have much of a choice.” You rolled your eyes at that. It’d been a few days since the reason why you had started hanging out in the first place had come up, and you didn’t like to be reminded of that god-forsaken picture. 
“And second of all… I guess I should be completely honest with you.” This piqued your interest, and you leaned back on your chair to listen to him. 
“When I saw you at the store and took pictures of you, I wasn’t really thinking of doing anything. Maybe just get a laugh or two and tease you about it. I even told you outside the store that I didn’t know what I was gonna do. To be honest, I didn’t really think there was anything you could do for me that I’d need to force you to do. So I thought about it all night. And I asked myself, what’s the thing that pisses me off the most at school that you could change?” he looked at you expectantly, as if you could figure it out. You just shrugged.
“It’s those girls that keep following me around. All these years, I’ve acted like a giant asshole with them and still they think they have a crush on me or whatever. And I’ve never liked any of them, they’re all so superficial and ask me out without having ever talked to me before. So I thought, hey, maybe if I have a girlfriend, they’ll leave me alone. Which is why I made you do all those things for me.”
“So that they’d think we were dating?” you asked, trying to take all this information in. You’d sort of known it this entire time, but Sunghoon blatantly admitting he’d been using you hurt nonetheless.
“Yeah. But obviously, you always denied the rumors, so it hasn’t worked as well as I thought it would. It still did a bit though. So I think, if we take it the next step, and actually pretend we’re dating, it should really work. But I need your full cooperation on this, okay?” He looked at you, hopeful eyes and hands in prayer.
You sighed. As he said, it wasn’t like you had much of a choice.
“Please, Y/N? I really want them off my back.”
“Fine, Park, I’ll do it. But this better be the last thing you make me do.” You couldn’t help but sound cold. This made you rethink these past few weeks’ events. Were you the only one actually enjoying spending time together?
“Thanks, Y/N. And yeah, of course. You won’t have to carry my bag or get my lunch anymore if you want. Maybe it’ll be more believable if I do that for you.”
You had focused your attention back to your homework, wanting this conversation to be over as soon as possible.
“I’ll also pick you up in the morning, so you don’t need to take the bus.”
You hummed in response.
“Um, and I’ll also drop you off after school and after practice…” Sunghoon trailed, troubled by your silence. You hadn’t been so cold since the first couple times you two had talked, and he hated the idea that that might be because of what he had just said. So he took a chance.
“You know, Y/N, this doesn’t change anything. I wouldn’t have made you do all those things if I didn’t like spending time with you. You’re really nice to be around,” he admitted shyly.
You were far too flustered to lift your head and let him see your face. You just grinned and murmured, “Whatever, Park.”
Sunghoon kept his promise and picked you up in the morning. He called you at exactly 7:55 a.m., saying he was waiting outside and you rushed out of your house, piece of toast still in your mouth. In the car, you two went over what being in a fake relationship would involve.
“We just need to be seen around together, right?” you proposed, hoping your lack of experience wasn’t showing.
Thankfully, Sunghoon had no idea what being in a relationship, fake or not, entailed either. “Yeah, I think. And maybe…” he hesitated. 
“Maybe?” you prodded, hoping he wouldn’t (or actually would, but you’d never admit it) say what you thought he was about to say.
“I don’t know, like, hold hands, and… kiss.” The last part had barely been audible, but you’d still heard it.
“Kiss?” you echoed, voice almost a shriek. “I don’t think we need to go that far, Sunghoon.” A little voice in your head was saying that you’d really like to go that far but you made it shut up.
He was blushing profusely but didn’t want to drop the subject there. “At least on the cheek, or something. We do have to make it believable.”
And there it was. The little sentence, reminding you none of this was real. Seemed like that was a pattern in your life.
You looked out the window. Sunghoon glanced over at you, cursing himself for always saying the wrong thing. He was trying so hard to drown his blooming feelings for you that he kept on hurting you in the process. This whole fake-dating plan was the perfect excuse for him to spend more time with you without having to come to terms with his feelings. 
“C’mon, Y/N, it’ll be fun. Promise.” He nudged your arm playfully, making you look at him. His smile was contagious; you could never help yourself but start grinning when you saw his face light up like that. Maybe he’s right, you thought. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
When you arrived at school, Sunghoon told you to wait for a second. He got out of the car and quickly walked around to your side, opening the door for you. You hated how your heart fluttered at the sweet gesture, reminding yourself it was just for show. The important part was that it fooled everyone else, and it did - as you took Sunghoon’s hand, letting him help you out of the car, and walked with him hand in hand towards the school gates, you could feel all eyes on you. You could hear whispers of see, I told you they were dating! and defeated no ways. 
You realized you didn’t care about what anybody might be seeing, which was a first for you. You’d always made sure everybody saw you exactly the way you wanted to see them. As he was the most popular guy in school, dating Park Sunghoon at once helped your reputation and put you on many girls’ bad side. But holding his hand, you felt as though there was some kind of barrier protecting you. You’d never felt so exposed and so safe at the same time.
You noticed Jay standing next to the gates, looking particularly antsy. He’d texted you that morning, saying there was something he wanted to tell you. Usually, you’d have stayed up, overthinking what that could be, but what with today being the day you’d announce yourself to the world (your school) as Park Sunghoon’s (fake) girlfriend, you had had other things to worry about. You gestured at Sunghoon towards Jay. Your friend only saw you when you were calling his name, standing right in front of him.
“Oh, hi, Y/N! I-” 
He immediately cut himself off when he saw yours and Sunghoon’s interlaced fingers. Embarrassed, you took your hand out of your fake boyfriend’s, opting for holding onto his pinky instead, not realizing that it was a much cuter action that made one boy’s heart flutter and the other’s fill up with sadness.
“There was something you wanted to tell me?” you asked with a small smile.
“Uh- yeah, but it’s not important, actually. We can talk about it later.”
“Oh, you sure?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” He returned your smile, hoping to make the situation less awkward. It was very obvious he didn’t want to say whatever it was he needed to tell you in front of Sunghoon, which you had both understood.
Sunghoon spoke up. “Right, well I’ll see you in class, Jay. Y/N, I’ll walk you to yours.” And with that, he started walking, holding his friend’s gaze for a few steps. You turned back to look at Jay for a split second, trying to decipher what had just happened, but Sunghoon grabbed you by the waist, making you look up at him in surprise, and breaking Jay’s heart even further.
Once Sunghoon and you got to your class, you felt as though you were in one of those movies where the boy drops the girl off at her house after their first date. Except that this was in a crowded school hallway two minutes before the first bell rang. What you had in common with that girl from the movie, however, was that you were freaking out over what your boy was going to do next. In the car, you’d ended up agreeing to a kiss on the cheek, but you hadn’t realized it would be happening so soon.
As you two hovered around your classroom’s door, you looked at each other and giggled. Damn, you were selling this well. So well that if you could have ascended out of your body and looked at the scene as a third party, you’d probably have barfed all over yourself. 
You were still holding his pinky. You could tell he was too hesitant to do anything now that you had reached the classroom, and so you mustered all of your courage, stood on your tippy toes and softly pressed your lips to his cheeks. (You were pretty sure you’d heard gasps around you.) Your courage went as fast as it came, and as realization hit you, you quickly squeaked “bye, Sunghoon” and practically ran to your seat. The boy stood there for another second or two, hand going to his cheek where you had just kissed him. He walked happily to his own classroom, completely oblivious to the stares he was receiving.
Heeseung, Jiung and Sieun were looking at you in disbelief as you approached them. Sumin, on the other hand, looked like she had paid no attention whatsoever to the scene.
“Y/N,” Sieun teased in a sing-song voice. “Care to explain what just happened?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve actually managed to make the oh-so-great Park Sunghoon fall for you?” Jiung asked jokingly. 
You looked down in an attempt to hide your grin. You usually did that sort of stuff to appear humble when someone complimented you, but this time it was completely genuine. The mere thought of Sunghoon made you all giddy inside. “Um, yeah, he actually asked me to be his girlfriend last night.”
Your three friends gasped dramatically and Sieun pulled you into a hug, as if you’d just received an award of some kind. Heeseung and Jiung patted your shoulders, congratulating you.
“Sumin? Did you know about this?” Sieun enquired, turning to your friend.
“What? Oh, yeah, Y/N called me last night,” she answered, briefly looking at you before turning back to her phone. Sieun looked at you, surprised, not understanding Sumin’s reaction to what seemed like happy news.
You had indeed called Sumin the previous night, and the call had gone similarly to the way she was behaving this morning. Although you usually told her everything, this time, you didn’t want to share the fact that you and Sunghoon were only fake dating. You found yourself actually wanting it to be true - and you thought it’d be easier to believe it yourself if everyone, including your best friend, did too.
“Minie! I’ve got some news,” you’d said as soon as she picked out.
“Ooh! Hit me,” she’d replied with as much excitement in her voice as you.
“So…” you’d started, already giggling. “Sunghoon’s just asked me out. I haven’t told anyone else, I wanted you to be the first to know.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. After a while, you added, “Minie, you still there?”
“Huh? Yeah, um, that’s nice, Y/N, I’m happy for you,” she said, not sounding happy at all. There was no trace of excitement left in her voice.
“Yeah, thanks,” you replied, voice ten times smaller than a minute ago.
“I’m sorry Y/N, but I’ve got to go, my parents are calling me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up suddenly, giving you no time to say bye in return. You were completely confused. Was Sumin bothered by you and Sunghoon dating? Other than a reminder about his past behavior, she hadn’t said anything when you two were getting closer. So what was wrong? You’d hoped you’d find out the next day at school, but the way she was acting didn’t help at all.
You snapped out of your flashback when Heeseung nudged you, faking a pout. “Not fair! Why did she get to know before we did?”
You forced a smile and said you’d known you’d see them the next day and thought it was better to tell them in person, and that you had just wanted to rant to someone quickly. Your teacher came in as the bell rang and everyone went to their seat. During class, you tried getting her attention so you could ask her if she was okay but she kept her attention on the teacher the whole time. 
After that, as time went by, you kept up your charade of being the perfect student as usual, adding to that of being the perfect girlfriend to Sunghoon. Time with him passed by so quickly: you hadn’t realized you were more than halfway through the semester until you needed to wear a thicker jacket outside and the leaves had started falling, covering school grounds in shades of brown. The plan had worked: he was finally left alone by his admirers. Sumin had stopped being weird after a few days, saying she had had some problems with her parents but hadn’t gone into more detail. Everything was as great as it had ever been: good grades, good friends and a good boyfriend. Well, fake boyfriend, which you needed to remind yourself a bit too often, on the days Sunghoon didn’t do it himself. You felt a pinch in your heart every time he said something like, “there’s my fake girlfriend!” when it was just the two of you, or “great job today, Y/N” after dropping you off.
One day as you arrived home, Yeeun was waiting outside your house, trying to catch you red-handed. She dragged him inside by the arm and you panicked, not wanting him to see how you lived. But your messy room and invasive siblings didn’t scare him off at all; on the contrary, he smiled one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen on him, canines and dimples on display. Your mom made him stay over for dinner and it was probably the happiest dinner you’d ever had. The idea of bringing someone home and having them see your habits and odd family dynamics had terrified you for the longest time, but you felt so comfortable around Sunghoon that it felt as if he was part of your home as soon as he’d stepped foot inside. You didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him.
After dinner, he helped your parents clear up the table and even washed the dishes, even though they kept insisting he didn’t have to do anything. He had completely won them over. They sat at the table and watched you two laugh together in the kitchen. They looked at each other, knowing they were thinking the exact same thing: their daughter hadn’t looked this happy in a while.
When you were done cleaning up, you two headed to your room under the pretense of needing to study. 
“Alright, but keep the door open!” your mom had yelled after you, making you groan and Sunghoon’s face turn crimson red.
You really had planned on studying - there was a big test coming up and you couldn’t afford to get a bad grade. When you got your physics textbook out, Sunghoon groaned in protest.
“What? You seriously want to study right now?”
You sighed. “I don’t necessarily want to, no, but I need to. And so do you, may I add.”
“We’re not even in the same physics class!”
“Yeah, but we both have Mr. Cho, so I know you’re gonna have a test as well.”
He rolled his eyes and dramatically flung himself on your bed. “Fine.”
When he didn’t move for a few minutes, you guessed what he had meant was that he’d let you study but wasn’t going to do it himself. But after ten minutes, he suddenly got up. “I’m bored to death, Y/N. The test isn’t in another week. Show me what you do for fun,” he said, on the verge of desperation. It had only been ten minutes, but you felt bad having him over and not entertaining him.
“Well, I do have a Switch…” Sunghoon’s eyes widened in awe. “I guess we can play Mario Kart.”
He almost squealed in joy at that. You just chuckled at him, not knowing he was such a fan of car video games. 
“I’m gonna crush you, Kim. Get ready,” he said, already looking victorious.
You smirked, not wanting him to get his hopes up. “Oh, it’s on, Park.”
As expected of a pro player like you (on non-schooldays, you could stay up all night playing this game), you won every single round. Sure, he gave you a run for your money, but you always came on top. He took it surprisingly well, congratulating you each time. After your fourth win in a row, you wiggled your face in front of his with a devilish smile, as you couldn’t help but torment him a little. But he wasn’t smiling. At first, you’d thought he was finally getting mad he kept on losing; but then the proximity between you two hit you. You noticed his eyes flicker momentarily to your lips and had backed off immediately.
“Um, if we go for another round, I’ll go easy on-”
He cut you off by putting his hand on your cheek, making you turn to look at him. You’d daydreamed about this moment before, but you hadn’t imagined your heart beating this fast or the butterflies eating away at your stomach. He was now fully staring at your lips, and you couldn’t look at anything else but his either. Too scared to move an inch, you felt him get closer and closer, so close that his lips were almost on-
“Y/N, mom says it’s late and Sunghoon needs to- AH!”
Sunoo had walked in, eyes riveted on his phone until he looked up and saw you and Sunghoon suspiciously close to each other. Sunghoon practically leaped off of your bed in surprise and you flung a pillow over your face, not believing you had almost kissed Park Sunghoon but that your stupid little brother had ruined everything.
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” the culprit squeaked before running away. You and Sunghoon looked at each other. It was awkward for two seconds, then you both erupted in laughter. 
“Alright, guess I should get going then. Um, thank you so much for tonight. I haven’t had a family dinner in a while, and… Well, it was really nice,” he admitted shyly after you’d calmed down.
“Of course, Sunghoon. I’m sure my parents would love to have you over any time.”
You walked him to your front door, where you exchanged goodbyes and I’ll see you tomorrows. You watched him take a few steps, then turn back and jog towards you. He stood in front of you for a second, then leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead.
“Bye, Y/N.”
You were too stunned to say it back.
After the almost-kiss, it felt as though something had changed between you and Sunghoon. The event had somewhat revealed your feelings: you both knew you wanted to kiss each other. But since those feelings hadn’t been acted upon, the transition from fake-dating to real dating couldn’t happen as smoothly. Well, it could, if you two stopped acting like idiots and told each other how you felt. But the author wanted to get a couple more thousand words in, so it had to wait.
You’d gotten used to Sunghoon’s little requests at school, but you definitely hadn’t anticipated a phone call at past 11pm on a Wednesday night. 
“Sunghoon? Why are you calling me so late?” you asked, groggy voice because of sleep. Since you woke up so early to get ready in the morning, you always went to bed around 9:30 to 10 p.m. Sunghoon was making you lose precious minutes of slumber.
“Late? It’s barely midnight, Y/N.” You groaned. “Whatever, put on some clothes and come outside! I’m waiting for you.”
“You’re what?” you whisper-screamed, suddenly feeling very awake.
“I’m waiting for you! Hurry up!” 
As always, he hung up without waiting for your reply. You couldn’t really turn him down anyway; although you were somewhat obligated, you had stopped seeing it that way and started doing things for him out of your own volition. 
Not wanting to get out of your pajamas, you just threw on a warm sweater, a scarf, some socks, and headed down the hallway on your tiptoes. Your parents weren’t the strictest out there, but you still didn’t wanna get caught sneaking out, and with a boy, at that. After putting on your shoes, you left your house, closing the door behind you as quietly as you could.
The late October night was a bit chilly, but you had wrapped up warm enough. Sunghoon was indeed waiting for you outside, wearing a denim jacket over his gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. 
God, he looked good.
“Finally! Took you long enough.”
“Quit it, Sunghoon. Just tell me why you wanted to see me.”
“There’s a place I wanna show you. Come on,” he said, taking you by the hand. You felt tingles in your palm and fingers wherever his hand touched yours. How could something feel so natural yet make your heart race so at the same time?
“Are we walking there?” you asked.
“Yep, it’s not too far. We’ll be there in five minutes.”
Those five minutes felt like five seconds walking with Sunghoon. You chatted and joked around the whole way, not letting go of each other’s hand. You hadn’t even noticed you had reached your destination until he stopped walking.
“Here we are,” he said, facing the building, which made you turn in the direction he was looking.
“The ice rink? What are we doing here?” you asked, confused. It was 11:30 pm; surely, the rink would be closed.
“You’ll see!” he said, heading towards the entrance. To your surprise, he pulled out a key from his pockets and opened the doors.
“What? Sunghoon! How do you have a key to the ice rink?”
“I’m chummy with the janitor. I just need to let him know when I’ll be coming and he doesn’t tell anyone,” he replied, an easy smile on his face, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. He led you first to the shoe rack, helping you find skates your size, and then to the benches next to the rink’s entrance. He knelt in front of you and helped you put on your shoes, doing the laces for you. 
He looked up at you, a glint in his eyes. “I’ve never taken anyone here, Y/N. I know your secret, so I thought I’d show you mine.”
You didn’t know what to say, surprised at the sudden confession, so you just looked at him curiously as he took ice skates from his backpack and laced them up.
He stood up, turned to you and said, “Ready?”
You followed him to the doors leading to the ice. He stepped inside without a trace of hesitation, but you were much more doubtful about your ability to stand on the ice without falling instantly. He turned around and saw you looking helpless. He took your hand in his, helping you step onto the rink. 
“Don’t worry, Y/N. As long as I’ve got you, you won’t fall.”
“Don’t let go of my hand, then,” you said pointedly.
Too focused on not slipping, you didn’t see his smile. “I wasn’t planning to.”
He helped you get your footing, skating backwards in front of you and holding both of your hands. After a few minutes on the ice, you got brave enough to skate on your own, and you miraculously managed to stay on your feet. However, after a while, your bravery turned to hubris, and you dared attempt a spin, resulting in you miserably falling on the ice, butt first. Sunghoon was worried for a second until he saw you laughing uncontrollably. You looked at him, wide-eyed, and said, “This is so much fun, Hoon.” You were so exhilarated that you hadn’t noticed the nickname slipping from your lips but the boy’s cheeks and ears turned redder than the bruise you had surely just earned yourself. Thankfully, if you commented on it, he could just blame it on the cold. 
He helped you up, and you skated on as if nothing had happened. This went on for another thirty minutes, you skating hand in hand and occasionally falling together (but most of the time, just you falling on your own). Sunghoon had been so nervous before bringing you here; he was scared you’d think his hobby was unmanly or lame, as he’d been made to feel. But seeing you have the time of your life, all his worries dissipated. This place was like a second home to him, and bringing someone into your home was always nerve-wracking, but he thought you fit perfectly in it. 
When you told him you were getting tired and wanted to sit for a while, you skated back together to the benches and he gave you some water from his bag. You sat in silence for a while, waiting for your breathing to come back to a normal pace. 
You broke the silence first. “So, why’d you take me here? Not that I’m complaining.”
He hesitated a second before speaking. "I used to come here all the time as a kid.” He didn’t look at you when he answered, keeping his gaze on his hands. “My mom would take me. She left us for another man the summer before middle school started. She left me alone with my asshole father.”
You let out a small gasp, not expecting such a confession. You placed your hand on his back for comfort and said, “I’m sorry, Sunghoon.”
He quickly glanced at you, a half-smile on his face. “Don’t be. Anyways, he had to somewhat start taking care of me now that my mom wasn’t there to do it.” He chuckled darkly. “I guess his idea of taking care of his son was forbidding him from doing the one thing he loved. He thought it was a stupid sport for a boy. He stopped all of my lessons and made me sign up for soccer, even though I hadn’t ever said I wanted to do that. I still came here from time to time, but I didn’t wanna risk getting caught. God knows what he’d have done if he saw me here.”
You weren’t sure what to say. You felt as if no words would be enough to express how his story made you feel. “I- it’s awful, what he did to you. No parent should ever make their child feel as though their passion isn’t worth it. If it’s any comfort, even though you were mostly helping me, I thought you looked ten times better on that rink than scoring any goal. And that’s saying something.”
He finally looked at you and grinned. “Thanks, Y/N.” He seemed to be thinking for a few seconds, and then continued: “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I think that’s why it’s hard for me to open up to people and make lots of friends. I only trust Jake because I’ve known him forever and I can’t really get rid of him now,” he said with a chuckle, “and Jay, well, Jake took to him instantly in middle school so I guess I didn’t have a choice there either, and he’s not so bad anyway. The more people I let in, the more likely I am to get hurt. It’s much easier pretending I don’t wanna have anything to do with anyone than try. 
“I guess it’s also why I talked to you on that day. Sure, I ended up thinking you could help me with all those girls. But at first, when I saw someone like you, who looks like they have it all together, who’s actually the opposite in real life - no offense - it reminded me of myself. And I thought, maybe she’d understand. Which is why it was so easy to be myself around you.”
You took his hand in yours and pressed it slightly. “I’m glad you were.” You didn’t feel the need to say anything else, hoping it was enough.
“Now, your turn. What made you the person you are today?” he asked with a grin, trying to approach lightheartedly this heavy subject, which you appreciated.
“It’s all about making people think you’re someone else, isn’t it? Because, depending on who you are, they’ll treat you differently. I found that out as a kid, because I, too, have a tragic childhood backstory.” He gasped jokingly.
“It’s not as bad as yours, so sorry about that. Back in primary school, I already had this… attitude that I have today. I had quite the ego, and I didn’t want anyone doing better than me at school. I didn’t care about how I looked, if I was the prettiest girl in class or had the cutest shoes. I was the smarty-pants of the class, basically, and a lot of the kids teased me for that. But I also didn’t let myself get trampled over, and fought back, quite aggressively at that, so I was somehow the nerd and the troublemaker at the same time. I didn’t have the best reputation, but I did have a friend. Jay. Or Jongseong, at the time, before he got too cool for his real name,” you joked. “The thing is, I didn’t see him as a friend. Sure, I was only eight or nine, but I really liked him. And the day I was planning on confessing, I saw him hold hands with the prettiest girl in our class. So I never told him, and then he left for the US a few months later.
“During the time he was gone, I had a complete makeover and actually started caring about my appearance, especially when middle school started. So now I had academic validation from teachers, which I had craved since forever, and both female and male validation from all the girls telling me how pretty I was and all the guys liking me. The people who were in my primary school and went to the same middle school told them how I used to be, but nobody believed them, and if they did, they didn’t care, so everybody just gradually forgot about it. And I just got addicted to the validation, which is why I always studied harder and tried to be prettier, even when it turned into a complete lie. I thought that if I could make everyone believe I was perfect, then it didn’t matter what I was like in real life, so at home, I just let myself completely go. And even now that I’m aware of all of this, I still can’t stop.”
Sunghoon looked at you like you had just slapped him. “So, you used to have a crush on Jay?”
You looked at him in exasperation. “Seriously, Hoon? That’s what you get from everything I just told you?”
He smiled shyly. “Sorry. Thank you for telling me.” You sat there in comfortable silence for another few minutes, still hand in hand. Then, Sunghoon got up, grin on his face.
“Wanna see something cool?” You nodded at him, returning his grin. He headed back inside the rink.
You thought he was gonna show off by doing some fancy trick. But he started gliding on the ice, and you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He took long strides that looked as natural to him as walking. He spinned one, two, three times, and continued skating as though it was nothing. You were completely mesmerized. You already thought he was out-of-this-world beautiful, but his beauty was brought to another level when he skated. His elegant moves rendered you breathless. When he skated back towards you, you were looking at him with only awe and admiration in your eyes. 
After what he’d told you and what he’d just shown you, you couldn't help but get a little emotional. You engulfed him in a hug as soon as he’d stepped out of the rink, your arms around his neck and his naturally coming to your waist. Your hands came up to his cheeks as you leaned back to properly look at him.
“That was- wow. That was amazing, Sunghoon. Thank you for showing me.” You could see the gratefulness in his eyes. There was something else there, and whatever it was, you knew you were looking back at him with as much of it. It was only you two in the building, but it might as well have been the two of you in the whole world. 
All too similarly as in your room, his gaze went from your eyes to your lips, and you couldn’t help but mirror that. This was the perfect moment. You inched your face closer, letting him close the gap between you. Your lips touched and it was as if everything fell into place. The kiss was shy at first, neither of you sure what to do, your mouths moving at a slow but steady pace. But as your hands traveled from his cheeks, to his jaw and down to his neck, and you felt him sigh in the kiss, something unclicked in you, making you want more. You deepened the kiss, and he returned it with just as much force. Your right hand came to grab at the nape of his hair and his hands gripped your waist tighter. After minutes or hours, you broke the kiss in need of some air. Your eyes met again and you smiled at him, relieved it had finally happened. 
You thought he’d have a similar reaction, but he suddenly looked panicked. Realization hit him like a truck. He liked you. Far too much. And even if the kiss and these past weeks told him you might like him back, it scared him. He’d unlocked his heart for you but couldn’t let you keep the key. Otherwise, he’d let you open it more and more and more until there he was completely bare in front of you, and you decided you didn’t like what you’d found and left him. Just like his mom did. Just like everyone eventually does. Just like his dad never even tried.
He took a step back. His panic was rubbing off on you. You called out his name, but he quickly got his bag and said, “Sorry, Y/N, I have to go. I’ll um- I’ll see you.” He took a few steps, turned around, and said, “I think you should take the bus tomorrow morning. Sorry.”
He started walking away. A few steps before he’d be out of your view, he turned back around. He hated the look on your face, how sad, confused and helpless it was all at once. Above all, he hated that he was the reason behind it. But he told himself it was better to leave you now than be left in a few months when you got bored of him, and started walking again without another word.
You walked home alone. It was a dark November night, and you were shivering from the cold and from sadness. Try as hard as you might, you couldn’t figure out why Sunghoon had reacted like that. The past month had gone so well, you were only getting closer and more comfortable with each other. The only logical conclusion you could come to was that kissing you had made him realize he didn’t like you. Thankfully, you didn’t live too far from the ice rink and you got home in five minutes. Lost in your thoughts, you couldn’t even be bothered to be quiet closing the front door and walking to your room, and you woke Sunoo up.
At first, he looked like he was about to scold you for making so much noise; but upon seeing your disheveled state, he started worrying. 
“Y/N? What’s wrong, why are you only coming home now? Where were you?”
You couldn’t hold it in any longer. You fell in your brother’s arms and started crying your heart out.
He held you for a little while, but not wanting to wake the others up by staying in the hallway, he said, “Come on, let’s get you in your room. You’re freezing.”
He left for a few minutes and came back with two cups of tea in his hands. He joined you on your bed. You had calmed down a bit and took a sip of the tea, already feeling warmer.
“So, tell me everything.”
And you did. Not just about what had happened at the ice rink, but everything before that: how yours and Sunghoon’s relationship was fake, which you hadn’t even told your siblings, but that it hadn’t kept you from falling for him, and how you really thought he felt the same way. When you got to the part where you told each other about your stories, Sunoo grabbed your arm in surprise, and said, “I can’t believe you told someone about that. Good for you, big sis.”
You sat in silence after a few minutes when you’d finished telling him everything, you, still reflecting on your evening, and him, trying to think of something good to say. He took a deep breath, and started: “You know, this might be completely useless, but I feel like there’s no point trying to figure out why he did that. We’re not mind readers, and assuming things will just go wrong. I think the best thing to do is just ask him tomorrow, or whenever you’re ready to face him, really.”
You looked at your brother fondly. “How can you be so stupid sometimes, yet so wise right now?”
Sunoo and you talked for another minute, but when you yawned for a good seven straight seconds, you both agreed it was time for bed. Before you fell asleep, you told yourself that tomorrow morning, you’d find Sunghoon and make him be clear with you. You at least deserved that.
Heeseung and Sumin were clearly surprised to see you the next morning in the bus, but you told them you didn’t want to talk about it and they didn’t push, although it very obviously had something to do with Sunghoon. As you rode the bus and psyched yourself for your conversation with him, you had no idea he was currently in the midst of a heated argument with Jay. The latter pushed him with force, making Sunghoon’s back hit the classroom wall behind him.
“What the fuck did you just say about Y/N?” Jay asked, venom in his voice and fury in his eyes.
Despite the pain, Sunghoon smirked, wanting to rile up his friend even more. “I said, Y/N’s just as stupid as all the other girls. She probably thinks she’s so much better than everybody, but in the end it was so easy making her fall for me. It was almost boring, really, how easy she was.”
Jay pushed him again. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”
“Aw, little Jay is getting upset over his little Y/N? You sad that the girl you like actually likes an asshole like me?”
Jay hadn’t had many reasons to get angry in his life. This was making him discover another side of himself; he didn’t know he could get this angry. He didn’t know rage could fill up his veins like that and make him want to destroy absolutely everything around him, but above all, the person in front of him who’d he considered a friend all these years. On the verge of losing control, he reared up his fist, before Sunghoon said:
“You know what’s even sadder? She used to like you, too.”
His arm dropped. “What?”
“Yeah, in primary school. Didn’t you think it was weird how different she was before and after you left? Her little heartbreak made her change everything about herself just so that people would like her. And now all she can do is lie to everyone. I pity her, really. And to think that she thought I liked her. What an idiot.”
That was the last straw. Jay punched Sunghoon square in the nose, making him stumble back a few steps until he hit the wall again. He held onto his bloody, and possibly broken, nose and looked Jay straight in the eyes, still smirking. Thinking his job was done (but not sure what the job was in the first place), he walked away, heading to the nurses’ station. The scene had gathered quite an audience outside. It was less than ten minutes to the first bell, so already quite a few students were there, but no one had dared to venture inside. Jake, arriving too late to prevent any damage, looked wide-eyed back and forth between Sunghoon walking out and Jay standing inside, fists clenched by his side and panting from anger.
Sunghoon barely spared him or anyone a glance as he left the room. What he did notice though, were a crumpled tuna-mayo sandwich and a banana milk on the floor, looking as though someone had dropped them.
What had he done?
You had already run back to your friends and were currently crying for the second time in twelve hours in Sumin’s arms. It was the first time ever you cried at school, and probably also in front of your friends, spare Sumin, so it was a curious sight to most; she took you to another room for privacy. 
There, you practically told her everything you had told Sunoo the night before, including the fake dating.
“Wait… so, you and Sunghoon weren’t actually dating?”
You nodded, embarrassed by your lie.
“I- Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N? How could you fool everyone like that?”
You looked up in surprise at your friend’s harsh words. You probably deserved them, but you weren’t used to hearing her speak in such a way, nor to the cold stare she was peering down at you with. 
“I don’t know… I’m really sorry…” you mumbled, ashamed.
She scoffed. “You should be. I just- I just don’t understand how you can already be living such a lie, and still add onto it. It makes me wonder how I’m still friends with you.” The bell rang right at that moment, and she got up, saying, “Let’s go to class. You wouldn’t wanna be late.”
You followed her, but you felt sick to your stomach. Usually, you could always hide your discomfort or sadness, no matter how bad your period cramps were or how serious an argument with your parents had gotten. But this time, it was too much, and fifteen minutes into the class, you asked the teacher to go to the nurse. Not used to you needing to leave class and trusting that it was for a legitimate reason, your teacher let you off and you quickly packed your bag and left. 
When you got to the nurse, you sat down in front of her and said you weren’t feeling well and wanted to go home. For the same reasons as your teacher, she said she’d let you but needed to ask you a few questions before about your general well-being. You answered them quickly, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible and just go home. 
When you finally were able to leave, you only took a few steps out of the nurse’s office before someone grabbed your wrist, making you turn around. Sunghoon, who was resting in the room next door, had heard your voice and gotten up as soon as he’d heard you leave. His nose was covered in bandages and his eye had started swelling and turning blue, and you mentally thanked Jay. You ripped your arm out of his grip and continued to walk away without a word. You were too tired to argue.
“Y/N, please, hear me out.”
This made you stop in your tracks, but you didn’t turn around. “Hear you out? I’ve already heard enough, Sunghoon. No need to explain, you made it very clear what you think of me.”
You started walking again but he doubled you and blocked your path in the narrow hallway. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry, if you’d just give me a minute-”
“I don’t care that you’re sorry, Sunghoon! Sorry doesn’t cut it. I trusted you. Actually trusted you. You out of all people should know how hard it is to do that. Or was that a lie too?” Seeing him in front of you, your sadness retreated to the back of your heart and you were left with only anger. 
“It wasn’t, I prom-”
“That doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” You pushed past him and walked on. And this time, he let you go, even though the only thing you wanted him to do was make you stay. You so desperately wanted to hear him out and forgive him, but you knew you couldn’t do that. You had too much dignity, and it would only end up hurting you even further. 
So you didn’t shed a tear the whole way home. When you finally got to your bed, you didn’t have the energy to start crying. You fell asleep, tears quietly rolling down your face. 
You slept the whole day, waking up to a soft knock on your bedroom door. It was your mom, telling you Jay was here to see you. Everyone had been surprised to see you already at home when they came back from work or school, but they knew better than to wake you up.
“I’m surprised, you know. He’s gotten so handsome.”
You rolled your eyes at her. “Just tell him that I’m not feeling well and he should go home, please.”
“Oh, I’ve already tried to, honey. The boy is adamant on seeing you.”
You sighed. “Fine. Can you bring him here, then?”
A few seconds later, you heard another knock, and Jay opened the door just enough to peek his head through, asking if he could come in.
“Well, you’re already here, so might as well.”
You sat up and gestured for him to sit down on your bed.
He looked around, taking in the messiness of his surroundings. “You know, I thought your room would be much more… organized.”
“Didn’t Sunghoon tell you? I’m a big, fat liar who hides the truth from everyone,” you said sarcastically.
“About that… did you hear everything he said?” You hummed in response. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Y/N. I don’t know what happened to him. He’d never said anything like that about you, and then, all of a sudden… What an asshole. I can’t believe he was my friend.”
“Was? You shouldn’t end your friendship over me, Jay.”
“Are you kidding me? I can’t be friends with a guy who talks about anyone like that, let alone you.” After a few minutes of silence, he asked, “Did um- did anything happen, for him to say those things?”
You sighed deeply. “I’ve already told this story twice in the past few days, so I’ll give you the short version, but basically, we were fake dating, and I started really liking him, and I thought he did too, until we kissed, and he left me completely stranded, and then the next day I hear him say all those things.”
Silence again. You suddenly remembered something Sunghoon had said that you had completely put to the side: Jay likes you. At least, according to Sunghoon. You didn’t know if it was true, but judging by his disappointed face, it looked like it. Seemed like all of your friendships were going to hell.
“Oh,” he simply said.
“Yeah…” you murmured back. 
“Well,” he turned to you, “that just confirms to me that he’s an asshole. Cause no guy in his right mind would turn you down, Y/N. I know I wouldn’t.”
He looked straight at you as he said that. Yep. Jay liked you. It was a nice feeling, but it was also about ten years too late. 
“Do you- do you know what I’m trying to say, Y/N?” he asked, gulping.
You hesitated for a second before saying, ”I think I do, Jay. I have to say, your timing isn’t great.”
He chuckled a bit lifelessly. “Yeah, I guess right now isn’t the best time to say this.”
“I also meant, you know what Sunghoon said, earlier? That I liked you before you left for the US? That was true.”
He looked at you, mouth agape. “Oh, was it…” His head hung down in defeat. “I can’t believe I’ve been such an idiot. I feel like it’s my fault that Sunghoon hurt you like this. If only I’d been just a bit earlier…”
“None of this is your fault, Jay. Please don’t think that. It’s mine for thinking Sunghoon could actually like me back.”
Jay took a deep breath. “God, as much as it hurts me to say, Y/N, I think he did. Or does, actually.” You furrowed your brows at him. “Sunghoon, he has this thing where he goes into retreat mode as soon as he gets too close, too personal. It’s a stupid defense mechanism, and when he realizes he’s let you in a bit too far, he snaps everything closed and hurts you before you can hurt him. At least, that’s how he sees it, I guess. He’s done it to Jake and me a couple times, and it takes some getting used to, but he stops after a while. When he knows for sure that you won’t hurt him.”
You didn’t know what to do with this information, so you just stayed quiet, which Jay took as a sign to go on.
“I’m not saying forgive him. Believe me, if I could smack him into space and never let him see you again, I would. But I think maybe, just maybe, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to, hear him out.”
You smiled at him. “You’re a good friend, Jay. And I don’t mean just to me but to Sunghoon as well. I hope you know that.”
Jay tried to ignore the pinch in his heart at the word ‘friend’ and smiled back.
“Oh, there’s another thing I needed to show you.” His tone was suddenly much more apprehensive, and he looked both sorry and scared to say whatever he was about to say.
He pulled out his phone and searched the thing in question. Before showing you anything, he warned, “Nobody knows who did this. It was sent out to the whole school on a library computer-”
Expecting the worst, you snatched Jay’s phone from his hands. And there they were. Pictures of you from your primary school years, recent pictures of you in your comfortable clothes, at home or in close proximity to your house. Sent out to the whole school, as Jay had said. You were horror-struck. You could feel all the years you had spent perfecting your image and maintaining it crumbling around you as though they were paper. Charismatic smiles and trendy accessories had been your brick and mortar, but a sledgehammer had hit them, destroying your foundations further with each swing.
And that sledgehammer had a name: Bae Sumin. You’d figured it out in an instant. You’d been friends your whole life, she was the only one apart from your family to know about your true face; only she would have access to such photos. You knew it wasn’t Sunghoon because the pictures he had taken that day weren’t there.
If what had happened with Sunghoon had made a crack in your heart, then this had shattered it into a million pieces. The person who you’d trusted the most, who you’d thought would never do anything to hurt you, had done the worst thing anybody could do to you.
“Y/N- are you okay?” Jay asked tentatively. You had forgotten he was there.
“Um, yeah, yeah- I think I just need to be alone for now, if that’s okay.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying a while.”
“Sorry, Jay, but I’m sure.”
He looked at you for a few seconds. He’d never felt more distance between you two, not even when you had been oceans apart. “Alright. Call me if you need anything. I mean it.”
You smiled a tiny, tiny smile in response and he left your room. On his way out, your mom hugged him, saying it was nice to see him again and that he was welcome anytime, and he thanked her.
As he walked home, he couldn’t help but bitterly laugh to himself. Even when he confessed, he hadn’t been able to say the words he’d wanted to tell you this whole time: I love you.
You didn’t go to school for the rest of the week, the only stain on your perfect attendance record. All of your friends had tried to reach you, asking if you were okay, and you replied in a few small messages, telling them you’d be back when you could. Other people had contacted you, asking if those pictures were real. You obsessed over your school’s gossip Instagram account: the past few days, all the posts had been dedicated to your pictures and Sunghoon’s and Jay’s fight. You had ten missed calls from Sunghoon and seventeen from Sumin. You ignored each and everyone of them, only giving Jay, Heeseung, Sieun and Jiung the time of day. 
On Sunday morning you woke up, already dreading going to school the next day. You could already picture the nasty stares and whispers you’d get in the hallways. You thought about facing Sumin and Sunghoon again, and you thought the worst thing possible would be to have to do it at school. So you decided to wait until they called you again, as you knew they would, and finally picked up their call.
Sumin contacted you first, at eleven in the morning. You agreed to have her come over to your house to talk. When she appeared at your front door, you realized you weren’t sad, angry, or disappointed; you were just confused. You didn’t understand why she’d done it. Looking at her face, you couldn’t imagine her sitting down at that computer and sending out those pictures, writing the comment This is what Kim Y/N is like in real life.
You let her in and walked to your room, your siblings’ eyes burning holes into her soul the whole time. You sat down on your bed, sighed, and said, “Go ahead.”
“Thank you for letting me come here and explain myself. I don’t know what took over me, Y/N. Well actually, I guess I do. Jealousy, as stupid as it sounds.” She chuckled at herself. “I’ve always tried to hide it, but I’ve always been a bit jealous of you, Y/N. You’re the prettiest girl, the smartest, the nicest, and I’m just the best friend. That’s all anyone knows me as. Everybody loves you, yet I know it’s all a facade. And I’m not saying that to be mean, because I know you’re an amazing person even without all the glamor. And when I saw you with Sunghoon, I mean, you saw how I was. I didn't fight with my parents. I was so, so jealous. You hadn’t shown interest in any guy since Choi Soobin and all of a sudden you were dating Park freaking Sunghoon, and he knew about your quote-on-quote ‘real’ face, so I couldn’t even comfort myself that he didn’t know who you really were.”
“Wait- why would you be jealous of Sunghoon and me?”
She took a deep breath. “You remember, freshman year, when I confessed to him and he turned me down?”
“Yeah, but I thought that was in the past.”
“Do you also remember that guy I told you about later on, who I’d gotten really close with but completely shut me off when I thought we were about to start dating?”
Something clicked, but you didn’t want to face it. “Yeah…”
“Well, surprise surprise, they were the same person. Ha. I got mad at you for lying to me, but I did the same thing.”
“Sumin… Why did you never tell me?”
“I’m not sure. When we were in that talking stage, I could’ve bragged about it to anyone, you know, that Park Sunghoon was actually being nice to me, but I didn’t. I wanted to keep him my little secret. And then I confessed, and we all know how that ended.” A beat passes as she takes a deep breath, shaking the bad memory away. “I am over it, it was more than three years ago. Maybe there was a nice part of me that thought he had changed, because you seemed happy with him, and I didn’t want to ruin that. But maybe there was another part that hoped he might hurt you like he did me. And that’s such a shitty thing to do, I know. I should’ve told you when I saw you get involved with him. I can’t believe after all these years, he did the exact same thing to you that he did to me. What an asshole.”
You were staring at the wall in front of you, feeling empty. Why did everything have to happen at the same time? You were just drained of any willpower.
“This doesn’t explain the pictures,” you said plainly.
“Right. When you told me you were fake dating, I guess something snapped in me. I couldn’t believe it was another lie, I thought we had gone past the stage where you hid things from me. So that, plus jealousy, I just went a bit crazy, I think. I really wasn’t thinking, Y/N, and I promise you with all my heart that if I could go back and undo everything, I would. I’m so, so, so sorry. I regretted it as soon as I hit post.”
You looked at your friend and knew she was telling the truth. You believed her, and yet you couldn’t quite look past it.
“I know you are, Minie. It’s just… what am I gonna do now at school? Everybody must hate me.”
“I won’t lie, some people haven’t been saying the nicest things, especially Park’s fangirls. But God, Y/N, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but who cares? They’ll talk about it for a week, two at most. Your life at school won’t be the same, but you’ll still have all of us. I’ve talked to Heeseung, Sieun and Jiung, and they’re not the tiniest bit mad at you. They’re just worried to death. A bit confused too, but mostly worried. And you know what? Even Yujin, Wonyoung and Gaeul, who I’ve literally never talked to before, came to ask me how you were. Jay and Sunghoon are barely on talking terms but they always team up when it comes to practically verbally assaulting anyone they overhear talking behind your back. Jake has to hold them back sometimes but he always glares at those people too. You don’t wanna see Jake Sim glare, I promise you. It’s so scary,” she says in a confessional tone, visibly shuddering just at the thought of angel-faced Jake looking angry, and you can’t help the small chuckle that escapes your lips.
Her face softens as she places a warm palm over your hand. “We all love you and care for you so much, so screw literally every single other person in that school. They don’t matter.”
There was something refreshing about Sumin’s words. The idea that you could live your life without worrying about other people had always been in the back of your head, but you always told yourself you were in too deep to go back. Now that you had been forced to, you understood why you felt so empty: the immense weight of having to keep up a persona, had been lifted off your shoulders. You would only have to carry yourself, and not a second person, which made you feel weightless. You’d just have to get used to it and come to enjoy that feeling.
You took your friend’s hands in yours. “I want to forgive you, I promise I do. And I will. I just don’t know if I can do that right away. I’ll need some getting used to this new life.”
“I completely understand, Y/N.”
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you around anymore. And you know what, I’m sure one day I’ll look back at this moment and thank you.”
Sumin left a few hours later and you were now waiting for Sunghoon to call you. You waited and waited, until your phone rang with a small ding: he wasn’t calling you, but had sent you a message. A very, very long message. You were very tempted to reply with a I ain’t reading all that. I’m happy for u tho. Or sorry that happened, but you thought it might not be the appropriate moment. 
You opened the message, which had come after thirty unread texts, and started reading, slightly appalled by the lack of paragraphing.
Dear Y/N, 
Is this how you start a long text? I would much rather be telling you this than writing it, but someone hasn’t been picking up my calls. Sorry. I probably shouldn’t be giving you much attitude right now. Where do I even start? The ice rink, I guess. Asshole move #1, obviously. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you like that. That kiss was really really good and I really really liked it. Because I really really like you. And I think I’ve known that for a while now, but the kiss confirmed it. And I was happy for a second, but then I panicked. There’s no other word for it, I panicked. I’ve never liked someone this much before and I was so scared. I still am. I’m terrified shitless. But I know that my fear is completely irrational, and that you’re literally the best person on Earth, which is why I’m writing this. I know it’s cliché to say my mom left me and now I think everybody will. And my first reaction to that is to hurt someone before they can hurt me, which is what I did. But as much as I wanna fight it, it’s always there at the back of my mind. You can even ask Sumin about it. Should I be saying that? I feel like I might as well. I was an asshole to her, and I’m so angry at myself that I did it again with you. I didn’t mean a single word of what I said about you to Jay. Not a single one. You’re not stupid, you’re the smartest and most amazing girl I know, and I never pretended I liked you, because I never had to. I think I just wanted Jay to punch me, really. I wanted him to run to you and make sure you were okay, because I was too scared to do that myself. But I regret doing that so much. I hope you know that. And bless Jay, he’s a real one. He told me to get my shit together and talk to you. I can tell he’s still mad at me but still wants to make things good between us. I was already trying to call you before he said that, but I probably would’ve said something stupid that would’ve made things worse. And I can’t afford that, Y/N, I really, really can’t. You get me like no one does and being with you is the most liberating thing ever, I’m never myself more than when I’m around you. You just bring out the best in me. Well, except for that thing I did. Which I promise I’ll never do again. I am so extremely sorry, and if you wanna hate me for the rest of your life, I completely get it. But I would also be very happy if you didn’t. I hope I’ll see you tomorrow at school. I really miss you.
Your Hoon
You wiped away the tears that had formed in your eyes and typed back:
You’re such an idiot, Park.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
The next day, as you imagined, was mostly hell. You’d decided not to dress up as usual: there was no point trying to look good after this, it would only make you seem more ridiculous. You put less makeup on, not bothering to hide your eye bags, and didn’t bling your outfit up with accessories or fancy shoes, opting for your worn-out Converse you’d had since your feet stopped growing. On the bus, where people usually ignored each other, you could already feel the gossip being told about you. You avoided people’s gaze like the plague and sat down next to Sumin. You laid your head on her shoulder and sighed.
“I already wanna go home.”
She laughed, “I know. We’ll be with you the whole day, so don’t worry.”
You spent the bus ride catching up on what had happened when you were gone (nothing much), and although there was some awkwardness there, it was nice being with your best friend. When Heeseung got on, he practically screamed your name and suffocated you by means of greeting.
“I’m so glad you’re back. You know, I think you look really cute in those pictures. All these people are just jealous they don’t look as good as you even when you don’t dress up.”
Sumin shot daggers with her eyes at him and he cringed, saying, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”
You reassured him, saying that it was fine since it was all you were going to be hearing the next few days. “Might as well get used to it.”
It was somewhat easy to ignore the stares coming your way when you walked into school with Heeseung and Sumin flanked at your sides like bodyguards. When you reached your classroom, Jiung engulfed you in a hug and Sieun was almost crying. How the hell had you gotten such sweet friends? 
In the hallways, some people tried to get reactions out of you by calling you out, yelling liar! or you can’t fool us anymore. You couldn’t ignore them as they were very much in your face. When at lunch, a table of girls next to you was very clearly talking about you in the nastiest way possible, you took your tray and were ready to get up and leave, but a very familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.
“You think it’s funny talking about someone like that?” Sunghoon was practically screaming at the girls. “You think you’re any better than her? I bet you do the exact same thing but are just glad someone else got called out for it.” You weren’t sure if that made you feel much better, but you appreciated the effort.
“As a matter of fact,” he continued as he pulled out a chair and got up on it, his voice getting louder, “I’ve got something I wanna say to everyone.”
Somebody whooped (probably Jake) and you tried to get Sunghoon to come down from the chair, but he just smiled his radiant smile at you and turned to look at the students in the cafeteria.
“All of you who judge Y/N are hypocrites. You wanna tell me you’re all as perfect at home as you are at school? That you never relax a little bit? Sure, she pushed it a bit far- (hey! you grunted in protest), but nobody shows who they truly are to everyone. We all judge each other in this stupid high school, so Y/N did what she had to do and protected herself. If anything, this should make you respect her even more. And it’s not like she did anything wrong to you. She didn’t use her popularity against anyone, so you better not use this against her.”
From the crowded tables in the cafeteria, somebody yelled “Nobody cares!”
Somebody, whose voice you thought you recognized as Jungwon’s, joined in: “Yeah, what is it about you seniors and thinking the whole school revolves around you? We still like Y/N!”
Sunghoon, taken aback, simply said, “Oh. Alright. Well, you better keep it that way then!” and got off his chair. 
He turned to you, already a pleading look on his face and said “Y/N, I’m so sorry-”
But you cut him off right away. “I know, Sunghoon, I know. I think this proved it.”
“I really wanna make it up to you. So just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. Buy you a house, move to another country, you name it. I’ll do it.”
You chuckled at him. “You don’t need to go that far.” You looked down, then back at him. “I think I just want to pretend like nothing happened. Like it was all a huge, awful fever dream. Even if I can’t forgive and forget right away, I don’t think I want you out of my life while I figure it out.”
He let out the biggest sigh you’d ever heard. “My God, you don’t know how happy to hear that, Y/N. Thank you so much.”
“Thank you for defending me just now. That was… definitely something.”
He smiled down at you. "I did my best. Too bad those sophomores ruined everything.”
You could feel eyes burning into your sides, so you turned your head a bit and noticed that your friends and the table of girls that had just been gossiping were staring at you, some of them teary-eyed. When they saw you notice them, they all turned back to each other and pretended that they were having some other conversation. You and Sunghoon chuckled, and you realized how much you had missed him.
Yes, Sunghoon and Sumin had hurt you, but you were a strong believer of second chances. Even if it was hard at first to stop thinking about Sunghoon’s voice when he had said those things or Sumin’s intentions when she posted the pictures, they’d made it up to you in any way they could and you’d reciprocated that by being completely honest. No more trying to look perfect all the time; you were human and were allowed to have low moments. Your grades even dropped by two points, because you’d started spending more time with your friends than with your textbooks. You’d spent whole Saturdays at the ice rink with your now real-boyfriend Sunghoon, and had invited the whole crew. Heeseung was surprisingly good at it. You had even caught your little sister Yeeun on a date with the cute Japanese boy she’d talked about. 
As promised, Jay came once a week or every two weeks to have dinner with your family; Sunghoon always insisted on being present. The tension between them had turned into friendly competition, and you could tell the two friends were glad to have each other back. 
You’d never felt so free. Your relationship with Sunghoon felt like uncharted territory and home at the same time; so daunting and exciting yet so comfortable and relaxing. You kept the PDA at a minimum at school, but when it was just the two of you, your whole body never failed to heat up, even in the cold of the ice rink. He had been nicknamed the ice prince, but he was so, so warm.
In the end, everybody found out. But you had Park Sunghoon by your side, so it was alright.
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ghoststyles · 6 months
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Casanova
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HIIIII 🤍 Here is a little piece I've been working on for a while! This is inspired by the song Casanova by Rayland Baxter. Harry is a manipulative little twat in this, so bare with me 🤍
7.5K words;
TW: SLIGHT mommy kink. He doesn't call her mommy but he calls her mama and Miss/Missy. P in V sex, oral sex, phone sex. FACETIME SEX <3 Slight mentions of suicide. EXTREME drug and alcohol abuse. Arrests, jail. the works.
ENJOY AND GIVE ME A BOOP IF YOU LIKE IT :D
______________________________________________________________
Money, all I ever want is money But I never wanna work for the money So I borrow the money from a woman
Harry Styles knew who he was from a young age. A charmer. A flirt. He uses his wits and his good looks to manipulate the people around him until they have no choice but to give in, conning them and infiltrating their lives for his own gain.
His days are simple; He sleeps until 11, combs his hair into a perfect swirl of chocolate curls, brushes his perfectly white and straight teeth, spritzes his neck with his ridiculously priced Tom Ford cologne, climbs into his Porsche Cayenne to hit the gym, and grab an $18 smoothie for the ride home. From there, he lets the day unfold how it pleases, until it’s time to go to the club with his friends. Here and there, he’ll meet up with his dealer and his bookie to spice it up. 
Rinse. Reuse. Repeat. 
As a child, Harry was dirt poor. He’d never let anyone know that, however. His perfectly curated image blossomed the minute he got to college, leaving any ounce of mediocrity behind. His friends were none the wiser, assuming Harry was there blowing his trust fund like the rest of them, when really, he was a charity case.
Every day, he’d walk to the corner store for cigarettes for his dad and cans of tuna fish, stealing a small item to try and feel something. The owner, Mr. Abbott, knew Harry stole from him, but never said a word. He’d return to their one bedroom apartment, flicking the light on, only to find the electric bill hadn’t been paid. 
His parents are not addicts or criminals, by any means. If they were, he’d at least have a touching back story. Neither of them have the drive or the desire to succeed like he does. They lived their simple lives, worked paycheck to paycheck to support him and his siblings and never worked for more. 
On the day he left for college, he vowed to himself to never let anyone see him as the poor, pathetic boy he was. He’ll put his own silver spoon in his mouth, if he must. 
So, as he sits high and mighty on his throne after doing a few lines off a pretty girl’s tits in the VIP section of his favorite club, The Viper, surrounded by his fellow socialite friends, he thinks of one person.
You.
Harry isn’t unemployed, per se, but, he doesn’t exactly have a job, either. Two years ago, at the ripe age of 21, he graduated magna cum laude from university, with top marks in all of his classes. But, he knew he didn’t want to work a traditional job. He wanted to travel, he wanted to live lavishly, and he wanted to party.
That’s where you come in. The gorgeous, alluring and kind-hearted woman that feeds the beast that is his lifestyle. He wouldn’t change it for the fucking world.
Swiping aimlessly one day on the dating apps, he stopped his scroll abruptly to study your profile. You’re perfectly curated - the collection of photos reflecting your outgoing personality and beauty. 
38. Looking for some fun. Dog mom. CEO. Let me spoil you <3
Seeking a male ages 21-28.
His eyebrow quirks. A sugar mommy? Is that a thing?
He swipes right, hoping deep down you match. This could be it. This could be his way in. The funds from his financial aid are quickly dwindling, and he’d be sooner caught dead than with a part-time job. 
He dawdles around his apartment for a few hours, pacing the room to see if you matched with him. The possibility of this arrangement is scratching an itch he’s been desperate to quell. 
He readies himself to meet his friends at the club, placing cologne on his neck and wrists. For good measure, he adjusts himself in his trousers to get a little blood flowing down there. 
As he plucks his keys from the door, he hears the familiar ping from the dating site ring out from his laptop. Stopping in his tracks, he pivots to stand at his desk. He swallows thickly before entering his passcode.
Congratulations, Casanova94, you matched with BabyHoneyxo
A dazed smile makes its way to his lips, his dimple popping significantly. This is going to be good.
Can you believe I never met her? Can you believe she never met me, too? But she calls me everyday, telling me to behave And no I never listened
Now, almost two years later, you and Harry have still never met in person. But, that’s by your request. You want a companion. A call boy. Someone who will always answer the phone when you need it. And ever since you inherited your family’s wealth and company, you want someone to spoil.
It started off slow; texts asking about one another’s day, learning about hobbies and interests. Then, the wire deposits came in. Harry wasn’t sure if he had hearts in his eyes or dollar signs. You don’t tell him how to spend the money, but you definitely drop hints.
“Get yourself a new outfit, baby. Then send me a picture,” you smiled lazily on FaceTime one night. “Maybe you can find something to match the Porsche.”
Harry chuckles boyishly, “You’re too good to me. I just went shopping last week!” 
He has you eating out of the palm of his hand. 
“I know, I know. I just want my baby boy to be happy. Can you pull yourself out for me, baby? Wanna see you,” you purr, making yourself comfortable on your king sized bed in your quiet penthouse. You’re winding down for bed, even though your lover is just getting ready for the night. 
“Mhm,” Harry responds, voice an octave higher and desperate sounding. He slides himself out, letting his cock harden slowly in his hands. “My friends will be here soon, Missy.”
“That’s okay, bubba. We’ll be quick. Mmm, look how big and gorgeous you are,” your sultry tone sends shivers up his spine. He adjusts the camera so you’re looking at his abdomen from below his thick cock. 
“My perfect boy,” you moan out as you touch your clit for the first time this evening. “Always so good for me.”
“Yes, Missy. Wanna be good for you. Can I touch myself harder now?”
“Yeah, baby, go ahead. Squeeze that big cock. Tell me when you’re close.”
At this point, you’re furiously rubbing your clit, and gently teasing a finger inside. His breaths are becoming more labored as he pumps his cock at a faster pace. You pause just before your climax, sending your heart rate to a thunderous pace you can hear the ringing in your ears. 
You look over at your phone propped up next to you to find your little love sweating and fisting himself hurriedly. The whimpers coming from the other end make the hairs on your arms stand up. After a beat, you continue the assault on your clit, starting off slow in order to reach that peak again. 
“I-I’m close, Missy. Please let me cum. I f-feel so good,” at the tail end of his begging, he moans deeply. 
“Uh-uh. Who always cums first, baby?”
“You, Mama. You cum first,” he pants, his eyes making panicked contact with yours. 
“That’s right. Good boy. I’m so close baby,” you squeak out as you stick two fingers in your cunt. You cry out, at your release, gently tweaking your nipple with your other hand.
Harry isn’t far behind, taking one last swipe over his tip, using his other hand to cup his balls. He cums all over his fist, small specks of white littering his belly. He whimpers again, barely able to open his eyes. 
“Let me see, baby,” you whisper, waiting for him to show you his load. He pans the camera silently, the haze already leaving his head. But he’d never tell you that. 
“Thank you, Missy. I feel so good.”
“Mmm, bet you do, baby. Now go clean up and have fun with your friends. I’ll talk you tomorrow. Behave!”
“Okay, I will. Goodnight.”
The minute Harry presses ‘end’, an ounce of remorse bubbles in his chest. Just an ounce. He rises from his bed to jump in the shower, ridding him of his guilt and shame. 
Sure, you’re gorgeous, and nice. But you’re not what’s getting him off. Or so he likes to tell himself. Throughout your sessions on FaceTime, Harry’s mind wanders to the girls he’s hooked up with the weekend before, and the countless drugs he’ll consume on a night out. That’s what gets his rocks off. 
You’re the means to his ends. The gateway to his wildest dreams. He’s going to hold onto you for as long as he can, even if he has to get off over the phone a few nights, or pretend to care about the philanthropy you’re supporting that week. 
Harry should be your only philanthropy, he thinks to himself. This is the easiest job he’s ever done. And it only makes it better that he can do whatever he wants, with no consequences.
As he gets out of the shower, his prick still swinging in the air, he picks up his phone to see a Venmo payment from you.
Y/N L/N paid Harry Styles - $2,000.00 - 😘
Without even hesitating, Harry, heart rate rising a bit, opens up a text field  - to his club promoter. He ignores the dozens of texts from family members over the last few weeks. He’ll make his yearly obligation call to his mother at some point.
Hey, Mike! Can we upgrade to V.I.P tonight? I can put $2K down now.
He’ll thank you later. Tonight, he’s the hero of his friend group. A slight nervousness prickles on his neck. Harry isn’t naive - he knows he should be smarter with his money - your money. But you haven’t given him any reason to believe the well will run dry any time soon. 
So far, despite your generosity, Harry still lives paycheck to paycheck. He blows his money on extravagant trips, nights out at the club, and plenty of booze and coke. It’s times he hopes to look back on one day and smile. He swears to you he’s saving the money and working towards investing and buying a house. 
Scout’s honor. 
I got a real bad feeling, I'ma let her down Got a hole in my pocket and I'm running around Spending all of her money on drugs and things To keep my mind from runnin' Back to the hole that I came from
Every night that he steps out of his apartment, he shakes the nagging feeling in his gut, the embodiment of the life he left behind. He calls his Uber Black to take him to the Viper, his little white baggy in the breast pocket of his Burberry overcoat. 
He nods to the driver when he opens his door and proceeds to pour a small line of the substance onto the screen of his phone, but not without seeing another text from you.
Mrs. Robinson 🤍: Enjoy the night, sweet boy! Be safe xo
Harry smiles to himself at your contact in his phone. You all but had a fit when you found out he’d never seen The Graduate. Once he saw it, his world changed.
Swiping away your message, he plugs up his nostril, inhaling sharply as he moves his face over the surface of the screen. He grunts lightly, throwing his head back and shaking it out. That should hold him over until they’re in their secluded area of the club. 
The car pulls up to the club around 11:45, the house music already bumping. The line looks brutal. He scans it to see if he spots any 10s waiting that can keep him company later. Miles, Marquise and Jade are already inside at their table.
The bouncers greet Harry, bumping his fist and patting him on the back. He can feel the eyes of the nobodies in line glaring at him enviously. When you spend the average person’s salary in one night at the club, you eagerly reap the benefits. 
As he’s escorted through the crowd by the five-foot-nothing hostess, his senses are on high alert. He can hear his heart beating over the music and can feel the bass shaking the floors. He smiles tightly at the girl as she leads him to his table and scurries back into the crowd. 
Marquise and Miles, his best friends from undergrad stand to greet him, as Jade greets him from the lap of her catch of the day, a burly, bearded dude already glowing from sweat and the 8-ball they’re about to dig into. 
Taking his first swig of the Don Julio his regular bottle service girl, Tasia, pours into his mouth, he cracks a wicked smile, convincing himself there’s no where else he’d rather be.
Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back
~
“So,” you start quietly on your daily FaceTime coffee date. You’re perched in your home library’s windowsill. “I was thinking of flying you in for my 40th. It’s going to be pretty chill. I’ll probably hire a chef and have a dinner at my place. Maybe 15-20 people.”
Harry is cocooned in a blanket on his bed, his iced coffee you had DoorDashed to his apartment slowly melting on his bedside table. His eyes had slowly drifted shut as he listened to you talk about everything and nothing. That’s how these things went — you talk and he listens. You’re after his companionship, after all.
At your words, his eyes shoot open, causing him to try and sit up gently so he can hear you better, not believing what you’re saying. Inhaling, he hesitates before he starts to reply. 
“Uh, um,” he bites his lip and looks at himself in the corner of the screen, trying to gauge if he looks as shocked as he sounds. “W-when are you thinking? I have a couple trips coming up and plans with my friends.”
He decides to play it cool. You have to know this is a huge development in this arrangement, right?
“Well, my birthday is the 27th, obviously.”
He scoffs, “I knew that part, Miss. When is the party?”
“Watch the ‘tude, baby. I was hoping for that Saturday, maybe. But I’d be willing to work around what you have coming up.”
He’s lying through his teeth. He doesn’t have major travel plans until the summer, when his friend group will jet off to Greece. He’s been saving up your pennies to charter a private plane.
“Don’t agree to it now, but please think about it. I love spending time with you and I’d love to finally meet you. We can tell my family that you’re part of one of my philanthropy groups. I’m your largest donor, after all,” you stick your tongue out at him.
“Okay, let me get myself together for the day, and I can see what’s going on,” Harry grits out, trying not to let you down. 
“Okay, baby. Have a good day. Let me know if you get up to anything fun,” you say with a mild hurt in your tone. The least he can do is make an effort to finally meet you.
“Will do. Bye, Miss,” He says quietly, swiftly hanging up the call and chucking the phone towards his pillows. 
“Fuck!” 
Hm, Casanova You know that I'm a casanova Throw my pennies in the well Waking up in jail 'Cause I never paid attention Do you remember all the good times? Do you remember all the bad times too? She reminds me everyday, telling me to behave And no I never listened
~
You didn’t let him off the hook that easily. Every day that passes as your birthday party looms, you mention flights, or activities you can do once he arrives. Harry laughs them off, distracting you by touching himself or telling a story from his gatherings with friends. 
It’s not until you’re barking orders at him over the phone, 1 week before your party, denying his orgasm that he finally relents. 
“Miss, please, I-I need to cum,” he whimpers as he has a ghostly touch over his angry, red cock. “P-please, I’ll do anything.”
“Anything, hm? I want my pretty baby at my birthday party. Wanna show you off and whisper filthy things in your ear and feel that pretty cock under the table. Agree to fly out to me and I’ll let you cum, baby.”
“Miss,” he croaks out, his stomach in shambles trying to stop himself from coming for the third time. “Okay, okay, Mama, I’ll go. I-I’ll come for your birthday! Please let me cum.”
You all but squeal in delight, instructing him to finally let go. Talking him through it, he keens from your praises for following the rules. A nervous heat travels up his neck, realizing what he agreed to in his post-nut clarity. 
“Good boy. Take a picture before you clean up, okay? I’ll talk to you in the morning and I’ll have my assistant send over your travel information.”
He nods, unable to make eye contact. You’re oblivious and overjoyed, thinking he’s just too fucked out to look at you. 
“G’night, Missy,” he chokes out. 
“Goodnight, sweet boy,” you hum before hanging up.
Harry snaps a photo of his messy left fist and cum-covered stomach before cleaning himself up and returning to bed. He eagerly picks up his phone to check his dating apps for his matches. He’d been talking to a new girl, Madelyn, for the past week, so excitement bubbles in his stomach. 
She’s meeting him and his regular group at the Viper tonight, so he’s excited to show off to her. Maybe she’ll even be down for a romp in the back seat of his Porsche.
His phone pings, signaling another deposit from you.
Y/N L/N paid Harry Styles - $5,000 - Can’t wait to see you 😘
He smiles, his right thumb picking at the skin of his ring finger. The guilt he feels from abusing your kindness starts to eat at him. But he didn’t get this far by being nice to people. You can’t possibly have feelings for him, right? You haven’t even met, for god’s sake. He shivers, shaking the feeling so he can focus on the night ahead. 
Pushing you far, far in the back of his mind. 
~
It’s now the night before your 40th birthday party, and you’re buzzing with excitement. Your penthouse is decorated in pink and floral frill - almost like your Great Aunt Gertrude exploded - but it’s chic and will be a hit amongst your New York City socialite friends. Your party planner floats around the room, puttering with the florals, candles and gem stones scattered around. 
You anxiously check the time, counting down the hours until Harry boards his flight from LA. He’s jumping on a red eye, so you’ll greet him with coffee and donuts when he lands. A pang of nervousness hits you as you remember how distant he was this week, saying he was busy with friends or doing god knows what an unemployed 23 year old does in Los Angeles.
Monday, 3:31 PM
Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Sorry, missy. I’ve been at Miles’ art showing all day.
Wednesday, 11:27 AM
Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Sorry! At the gym with Do Not Disturb on. Hey, can you send me some cash? Last min car maintenance 😢
Friday, 5:58 PM
Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Hi missy. My friends want to go to the opening of the new Carbone out here. Think your friends can get us a table? It’ll be 9 of us. 
Hope your dad’s chemo appointment went okay.
You can’t be mad at the little monster you’ve let him become. You are always an after thought as his only priority is making sure the cash cow is alive and well. He extends effort just enough to make the butterflies in your stomach reappear when he does give you the attention you crave. 
Inhaling deeply, you ascend up the grand staircase in your Upper East Side brownstone and begin your pampering routine, sending photos to Harry of the hydrating eye patches on and curlers in your hair, blowing kisses and sticking out your tongue. 
Typically, Harry answers relatively quickly to your silly messages, but, tonight, he’s gone radio silent. Maybe he’s trying to conserve his phone battery for the flight? 
You open your medicine cabinet to examine your fast-acting anti-anxiety pills, hoping you can will away this uneasy feeling. Padding over to your bed, you pop your pills before tucking into your silk sheets. Before putting your phone on the charger, you send Harry one last message.
Mrs. Robinson 🤍: Safe flight, baby ♥️ I’ll be tracking you, but tell me which terminal when you land. Can’t wait to see you 😚
Flicking out the light, you close your eyes with the hopes of finally meeting your lover in just twelve hours.
~
I got a real bad feeling I'ma lose my cool Everywhere that I go, everything that I do Stop me using the money on drugs and things To keep my mind from runnin'
Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back
Ping!
Harry, Delta airlines can’t wait to welcome you aboard Flight 0723 to JFK, departing 18:35
Ping!
You may now board Flight 0723 to JFK, departing 18:35. Welcome aboard, Harry.
Harry’s leg is bouncing uncontrollably as he watches the busy bodies move around him. Despite his social butterfly nature, his social anxiety rears its ugly head every once in a while. Or, it could be tonight’s concoction of pills.
He places his phone on Do Not Disturb, just as he gets a text from you. Closing his eyes in defeat, he comes face to face with the awful, shameful and downright despicable choice he’s made.
He’s not going to New York.
Instead, he’s standing booth side at a club next to John Summit, his favorite DJ, as he passes around a bottle of 1942. The pills he’s on are plastering a wide smile on his face as the throng of bodies around him jump around, despite the absolute panic and guilt he feels in his veins. 
He’s wondering when you’ll realize he’s not coming. The lack of texts? The empty escalator to the pick-up area well after the flight has landed? He can picture your cherub cheeks reddening with embarrassment, fighting back hot tears.
To distract himself, he leans down to capture the blonde girl to his left in a kiss, despite not even making eye contact with her prior. When she peers up at him, her pupils are just as dilated as his as they sway back and forth.
He kisses her once more, just as Marquise offers him another baggie.
~
The panic sets in about 30 minutes after his flight landed. Surely that’s enough time to grab his bag and meet you here, right?
Your eyes urgently scan over every person that walks by probably sending them into fight or flight as a deranged woman looks them over in search for her boy. 
You look down at your phone, the background a photo of your dog, completely clear of any notifications. With vigor, you throw out the box of donuts and his iced black Americano. Swallowing your pride, you skulk back to the parking lot to cry in the safety of your car. 
You feel like a loser. A pathetic middle-aged woman who got fooled by a man half her age. The mental gymnastics that takes place as you drive home with white knuckles on the steering wheel should have you committed. 
Your dating life wasn’t easy. It started in high school, where you were invisible to the boys, always deemed not good enough to date. Extending through college, you were still nearly invisible, working over time to find just one guy to have any interest in you and take your virginity. Just to get it over with. 
As the dating scene expanded in your 20s, you still struck out with men your age. It wasn’t until your late 30s when your hopes and dreams of a family came crashing down on you that you’d made that godforsaken dating profile. 
You still remember how your heart skipped a beat when you saw Harry’s photo for the first time. His boyish charm was palpable, followed by his incredibly witty prompt answers. He was your solution. If you couldn’t earn someone’s love, you could at least buy it. 
The lump in your throat is preventing you from calling him and leaving the fiery voicemail you so want to do. You assume he’ll ignore any calls from you anyway.
Pulling into your private garage, you let out your frustrations by wailing and smacking the steering wheel of your Bentley. To prying eyes, the cops should be called. You allow yourself to flip for 5 minutes before putting on a brave face and going inside to begin getting ready for your birthday party, ringing in another year of heartbreak and disappointment. 
~
3 glasses of a 1982 Cabernet Sauvignon. That’s how much alcohol it took to have you crying in front of your friends and family. 
You couldn’t tell them what was really wrong, of course. They have no idea about your and Harry’s arrangement. They’d call you an idiot if they knew how much money you’ve sent him.
Everyone is shooting you sympathetic looks as you cry on your best friend’s shoulder. For all they know, you’re stressed with work and your dad’s cancer diagnosis. It’s a lot of pressure on a single woman. 
Rubbing your back, Candice whispers all the affirmations she’s been telling you since college. It’s incredibly annoying to get advice from someone whose life is perfect. 
You quietly thank her, clearing your throat of the lump that’s formed. Looking around the room, you make a break for it, grabbing your phone as you lock yourself in the guest bathroom.
Tears blurring your vision, you dial his number for the first time all day. It rings and rings, finally sending you to voicemail, as you’d suspected.
You’re silent for a beat after the beep. 
“I-I don’t even have words for how I’m feeling right now. I was so fucking excited to see you…feel you….kiss you. And instead I’m locked in a bathroom at my own birthday party, calling you like a fucking loser,” you start, snot threatening to drip down your face. 
“I give, and I give and I give, and yet you still let me look like a fucking idiot in front of my friends and family. You couldn’t do one fucking thing for me? You…You didn’t even have to put any effort. I paid for a car service, paid for a first-class seat, bought you a wardrobe…”
“I just hope whatever the fuck you’re doing right now is worth it. I don’t ask questions about what you do with my money, since I’m the one who started this. B-but I thought you were a decent person. I feel so fucking stupid right now,” you are talking to yourself at this point. You shakily inhale and stare at the ceiling. 
“We’re done. I’m done with your bullshit. I’m not gonna let some ungrateful brat take advantage of me anymore. Have a nice life, Harry. Hope you have to move back to bumblefuck and lose all the friends you’ve been lying to this whole time,” you end off the message with pure venom leaking through your words.
You press end, feeling slightly better that you’d used his deepest darkest secret as ammunition. The mirror in front of you shows a shocking picture; running mascara, watery, red eyes, and disheveled hair.
Patting some toilet paper under your eyes, you clean up the best you can before returning back to the party. If you were strong, you’d block his number. But you can’t help but wonder what his response could be.
~
He deserves it. It’s 4:40 AM and he just mustered the courage to listen to your message. His under eyes feel heavy as he listens to your words, hitting him where it hurts. His hands are shaking as he lowers the phone to his lap, drowning out the sound of your sad, heartbreaking voice. 
5 years ago, he was a decent person. Now, he looks in the mirror and sees his slightly gaunt face and tired eyes staring back at him. He even notices a few gray hairs every once in a while. 
His lifestyle takes a toll on him — He’s well aware of that. But for now, he has no reason to stop. Harry lightly smacks his head back on the seat of the Uber back to his apartment. Cracking the window, he lets the sounds of the early morning deter him from vomiting.
The car arrives at his apartment — a guest house in Hidden Hills, the only place he can afford with the zip code he desires so badly. He never brings anyone to his place, too paranoid of his secrets getting out. Vision doubling, he struggles to stick his key in the lock. He knees the door has he twists the knob, sending him tumbling flat on his face. 
Smacking his head on the tile floor, he recoils, lifting his hand to feel droplets of blood on his nose and bottom lip. The metallic taste is leaking into his mouth, sending him into a spiral. His front door is still wide open, allowing him to see the sun peaking over the hills in the distance. 
He crawls over to the threshold, slamming the door shut with his foot. He lays back down on the cool floor, exhausted from his efforts. His breathing evened out, lulling him into a comatose state before succumbing to the darkness.
But before he passes out, all he can picture is your gorgeous, disappointed face.
I'm back in the hole I got nowhere to go La la la la, la, la Spinning around In the cold dark hole deep down in the ground Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from
The thing about rock bottom is that you don’t realize you’ve hit it until you’re clawing your way back to the top.
In the days following your fallout, Harry’s experienced enough misfortunes to last a lifetime. It started off with his credit card declining on a $6 breakfast sandwich, only to come back hungry and sad to his car being repossessed in front of all the Hidden Hills housewives out and about. 
The panic rises in his chest, and it’s taking everything in him not to call you and beg for forgiveness. He’s come to realize how fucked up his actions towards you became. He misses the butterflies and longing he felt when you first started your arrangement. 
He stomps back inside, miserable and feeling like a loser. If it wasn’t for Marquise’s birthday party later, he’d be sure to go dive in the ocean in hopes of never resurfacing. 
His closet is taunting him — full of the clothes you’ve bought him. He can remember every single piece he tried on for you, and the praise you were so quick to give him. He never reciprocated when you’d show him new pieces and showing off your incredible body. But, you hadn’t called him out on it, so he continued on. 
The all black outfit he chose reflects his mental state. Filled with dread and remorse, he pulls out his kitchen drawer to peruse the substances he has left. His stash is dwindling as fast as his bank account, so he has to be strategic until he figures out his next move. 
Grabbing the baggies, he situates them in the breast pocket of his jacket to conceal everything. They’re going to a new club tonight, so there’s no being saved by the bouncers if shit goes south. 
The party goes off without a hitch. Bottles pouring, dancers hanging from the ceiling, and an influx of out of town girls willing to do anyone and anything. Harry has nearly pushed you completely out of his mind, but he does something completely out of character.
~
Mr. Gladstone 🤍: I’m sorry.
You’re at a wine bar with your girlfriends in the Village, and the message you receive shakes you to your core. You haven’t heard from him in days. Not even after you repossessed the car and canceled his credit card tied to your account. You thought for sure that would smoke him out of his foxhole. But, he’s Harry. He’s selfish and too full of pride to ever come forward and apologize.
Your friends notice the faltered look on your face, but opt to ignore it as they bitch about their husbands and kids. Despite your fleeting dreams of having a family, most of the time you’re thankful you can’t relate to them. 
Turning off your phone, you throw it in your new Kelly bag — a little treat to get over the heartbreak — and return to the conversation.
~
He doesn’t even remember how it went down. 
The last clear memory he has is being escorted out of the club to go back to Marquise’s. The combination of coke and alcohol, plus this week’s tumultuous events had him on edge, so when the unfamiliar bouncer at this mediocre club grabbed him wrong, it sent Harry into a frenzy. 
To match his bloody nose and busted lip, his knuckles are now decorated with crusty amber smatterings of blood — his own, and the bouncer’s. His jaw and wrist were aching, still mouthing off like a rabid animal as the cop read him his Miranda rights. 
So now, he sits in a cold cell in the county jail awaiting his arraignment — a seemingly straight forward assault and battery charge, now amplified by the 40 grams of cocaine and Adderall in his coat pocket. The bastard cop smiled to himself when he patted him down. Harry will give him this one, the rinkydink small town cop who is used to giving out traffic violations. 
Tired, in dire need to piss, and on the verge of a mental breakdown, Harry’s head snaps up when the officer notifies him of his bail — a measly $75,000 — and lets him know he has one phone call. Balling his fists, he looks up at the ceiling.
“Fuck!”
The cop assists him in standing up. His wrists are chained together behind his back, after all. Releasing him from the confines, Harry rubs his wrists where the cheap metal chafed him.
“You have 5 minutes to make a call. Do you know the phone number or do you need me to access your cell phone?”
Harry scoffs. Who the fuck still memorizes phone numbers?
“Phone,” he replies, a clear edge in his voice. 
“Whose contact am I looking for? Mom, Dad?”
“Fuck’s sake. No, I need the number of,” Harry pauses suddenly as he remembers your name in his phone. 
“Mrs. Robinson,” he finishes quietly.
The cop raises his eyebrows, but says nothing, and reads the number aloud to him. It rings, and rings, diminishing any hope that you’ll answer. It’s in this moment Harry is at his rockbottom.
“Hello?”
~
“This is a collect call from the Department of Corrections for the City of Los Angeles. An individual is trying to contact you. Do you wish to answer?”
You gasp as the automated voice informs you of your worst nightmare.
“Hello?” you say quietly. It’s 8:15 AM, and you’re at the cafe on the corner for a latte and reading, trying not to disturb those around you. 
“M-missy?” His voice sounds broken. It sends a stabbing pain straight through your chest. 
“Harry, what happened? What did you do?”
“I-I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. N-not just with you. I know I fucked everything u-up,” he’s starting to sob, unable to catch his breath between words.
“B-but I got into a pretty bad fight last night, and I had some,” Harry pauses to look over his shoulder to make sure the officer isn’t listening. He wipes the tears in his eyes with his thumb. “I had some stuff on me, so now I’m in a lot more trouble. A-and I know I fucked everything up and I don’t deserve anything from you, but I don’t have enough money for bail.”
You sigh, not really even sure where to begin. Tears are threatening to spill over as you hear his clearly broken sobs. 
“How much do you need?”
At this point, Harry hung his head at your silence. He snaps his head back up when you agree to help him.
“It’s $75,000.”
“Jesus, Harry, what the fuck did you do?”
“I don’t even know, I barely have any memory of—”
“Five minutes, inmate!” the officer interrupts him.
Harry rolls his eyes and continues. 
“I’m not sure what happens next. B-but thank you, Y/N. I know I don’t deserve this in the slightest.”
You shiver at his use of your first name. Closing your eyes, “I know you don’t. Just tell me who I need to call.”
~
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mutter as you hear your incessant doorbell ring. It’s 6 in the morning, just a few days after you paid Harry’s bail. You’ve been laying low, unsure if you’ll even hear from him again. 
Your doorman, Paul, informs you of a visitor. A visitor? At this time? Unable to even comprehend what’s going on, you press the button to confirm opening the door, and wait. 
Your bunny slippered feet tap your coffee table anxiously. Is it your mom? Here to inform you of someone’s death? Or is it your best friend from college who couldn’t come to your party? Or is it —
You’re broken from your racing thoughts as a timid knock on the door echoes through the house. You shuffle hesitantly over to the door, unable to even bring yourself to look through the peephole. 
Closing your eyes while pulling open the door, the absolute wind is knocked out of you as you eye up your waiting guest. 
He’s tall, tanned and gorgeous as his photos. It’s unfair to look like this after stepping off what she assumes was a red eye flight. He looks exhausted. His lip and nose are busted, and he has a yellowing bruise on his left eye.
“W-what?” you flounder in disbelief.
His hands fold together at your reaction, unsure if he should hug you or keep a respectable distance. He opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself. He’ll play by your rules.
“What the fuck is going on?” 
You look adorable. The sleep barely wiped from your eyes. Slight bed head and disheveled silk pajamas. Harry is in disbelief that this is the woman he’s come to realize his feelings for.
“I know this is so fucked up,” he trails off. “Coming here. I don’t deserve even a minute of your time, but I needed to come here and tell you how fucking sorry I am. How deep into the superficial bullshit I got. I took advantage of you and your kindness and I lost myself in the process.”
You must look flabbergasted, because he inches closer, placing his hands gently on your arms. His touch is searing, but the first reminder that he’s actually standing in front of you and not an extremely lifelike apparition. 
“I-I,” you stumble.
“We don’t even have to talk right now. You can send me away, if you need. But I’m here, I’m here in New York and I want to change. I want to be better for you. These last few days— when I had absolutely nothing — made me realize something.”
His eyes are now earnest and starting to tear up. Your reflection is so clear in his tide pool green irises. 
“I had nothing, and it made me realizing you’re my everything.”
His profession had you clutching your metaphorical pearls. Your heart is racing, sending your central nervous system into a tizzy. You know he’s not lying, because he’s looking dead in your eyes waiting for your reply.
“H-Harry, I don’t even know what to say,” you stall. Your body knows what it wants to say.
“I know and like I said, if you need time, I underst—”
“If you’re here and you’re not bullshitting me; you really want to change. Then, you’ll fuck me like it.”
If Harry’s jaw could drop to the basement, it would. Instead of word vomiting, he lunges forward, guiding both of your bodies back to the hallway and placing a panty-dropping kiss on your lips. He doesn’t even have time to admire your beautiful home.
You break the kiss, grabbing his wrist to lead him to your room. The sheets are mussed, your clothes are all over, but you can’t even begin to fucking care. You all but dive back onto your bed, pulling your nightgown up to reveal your bare, perfect pussy. 
Harry drops to his knees, wrapping his hands around your thighs. The photos and the FaceTimes don’t do any justice to the sight in front of him. You’re complete and utter perfection. 
He waits for your approval before leaning forward to lick from back to front. Your back arches slightly, throwing your ankles over his shoulder. His fingertips dig into your skin deliciously, so you grab onto your blankets for dear life. 
“Give it to me, Missy. I’ve been waiting two years for this perfect cunt. What the fuck was I waiting for?”
You laugh, not expecting his sense of humor at this moment. For the last few months, it’s been like talking to a robot. It was an exchange of goods and services. But here, in front of you, is a man. A man who’s willing to change his ways for you. The man you’ve waited all your life for. 
“Always here for you. It’s yours,” you purr, placing your hands on top of his. 
He growls, vigorously licking into you. He removes his right hand to insert his two middle fingers into your center. This has you howling, unable to even remember the last time a man did this for you. 
“Baby, baby. I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum for you, finally,” you whine, focusing on the immeasurable pleasure stemming from your legs. 
“Mhm, I can feel you, Mama. Let go for me,” he begs, making direct eye contact with you. 
It’s the moment you lock eyes that you’re letting go. All the stars are aligning and symphonies are playing in your head.
“Ah, ah! There, Harry!”
Harry keens at hearing his name roll off your tongue. He slides up your body to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself. You grab at his under shirt, insinuating that you want it off.
He peels it off and cheekily pulls your tit out of your nightie. He winks before connecting his lips to your nipple, rolling his tongue around the bud and sucking gently. 
“Please, want you inside me. Gimme my big cock, baby.” 
“It’s yours, Mama. All of me.”
Harry slides his briefs down his legs, revealing the main event. His dick swings slightly before hitting him in the stomach. You moan, unable to wait even another minute for him.
“Please,” you cry out, scratching down his chest. 
He lines himself up, moaning in ecstasy as he pushes in. Your mouth falls open, a silent whine escaping. 
“So big, baby. I should’ve flown out to you the minute you sent me a dick pic. Like a fucking middle schooler.”
Now Harry is laughing. He’s in disbelief that he would ever treat you the way he did. The clarity from the last few days is damning.
His pumps are getting faster and longer, bottoming out every other thrust. He looks down to where you’re connected, your pussy lips wrapped around him deliciously, a slight white substance leaking out of you. He leans down to kiss you, wanting this connection he’s subconsciously wanted since he met you. 
“Want you to cum with me, Missy. Cum with me. Want to show you I mean it. I mean everything I said.”
You gently put your hand on his cheek, to which he immediately nuzzles in at the touch. 
“I know you mean it, baby. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”
He nods, leaning down to kiss you again, his thrusts slowing but still ramming you to the hilt.
“You close?”
“Yes, baby boy. Cum with me, I’m cumming now.”
Harry’s cock twitches as he bumps your walls before releasing long and deep into you. You push your noses together, lips ghosting over one another’s. 
Harry is finally home. 
“You’re gonna fucking pay for this, little brat.”
He flashes a shit eating grin, kissing you again.
“I expect nothing less.”
And I don't ever Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back
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Note
I was wondering if you could do a little drabble where the reader breaks her leg in an accident and Arthur goes to help her by picking her up and taking her home. Please I want Arthur to hold the reader like a princess! 🥺💞
Here you go sweet anon! 🍑
Yes this was supposed to be a drabble but I got a little carried away as always and this ended up being a bit longer than expected. I hope you won't mind!! 🙏
˖✧To pick up a Peach
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✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Warnings/Tags: Description of a broken leg and physical pain, otherwise this is pure fluff. Arthur being the sweetest gentleman he is in high honor. ✦ Words: 2,4k ✦ a/n: I don't know why but I got carried away with this one and I ended up really loving it. I changed it just a little bit and made Arthur carry you to the doc, cause you know, he wouldn't let you go home without minimum care. He's like that. I made the reader some sort of farmer's daughter AU? Anyway, hope you'll still like it, Anon! Credits. Arthur's pic is mine. Other pics are from Pinterest. Little doodles made by me.
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You were screwed.
That’s the thought that was stuck in your mind. Your horse, which the stableman had sworn to you was a gentle and peaceful creature, turned out to be a wild furious animal who was extremely nervous and appeared to have only one idea in mind: go back to where it belonged, the plains of the Heartlands.
You were simply on a ride to Valentine. You would often go there with your sisters on Mondays and Sundays to sell what your family had harvested in your native town, Emerald Ranch, setting up your little stand next to the butcher’s. Usually, these trips were pleasant and you had grown to like them, relieved to see something else than the gloomy and weird atmosphere that had settled in your village.
But your treacherous companion had decided, after an encounter with a snake somewhere near the Twin Stack Pass, that enough was enough. After rearing up as if his life depended on it, he took off at full speed, ejecting you with a crash to the ground, making the wicker basket containing all your precious products fly up in the air like a colorful firework of fruits and vegetables.
An ominous, muffled creak as your body lands.
Stunned, breathless, it took you a few seconds to regain your composure, long gone and galloping off with your horse.
Of course, that had to happen the only time you had decided to ride alone for once.
Your left leg, broken. The fruit of your labors and harvests, your perfect peaches, flawlessly ripe tomatoes and carrots, promising seeds, and beautiful flowers, scattered and smashed on the floor. Your dignity, gone. 
Lying back on the dirt, hair spread like a star around your head, surrounded by an indescribable substance made of crushed fruits and flower petals reduced to a mush, you looked like the religious figure of Bad Luck.
On top of that, being a lonely young woman, unarmed, and hurt in the open clearly wasn’t an ideal situation. Any man with bad intentions could easily do the worst thing to you in your state.
You tried to get back in a sitting position. Every movement was igniting the pain in your broken bone, deep inside your calf, spreading it through your entire body like a burning trail of powder. You let out a short pained grunt, followed by a curse. Slowly tugging your skirt up your knee, you took a worried look at your leg. 
It looked bad.
Painted with deep colored bruises kind of bad. 
The sight of it along with the incessant stabbing pain coming from it made your heart beat faster, and you did your best not to pass out from the nausea that was flying over your head. The panic of not feeling your toes anymore didn't helped at calming your heart rate.
There was no way you could walk back to any town in that state, or contact the rest of your family already waiting for you.
Yes, you were screwed. 
Tilting your head backward, you looked at the sky, in an attempt to prevent your threatening tears from falling, or to throw a desperate call to the Heavens, you didn’t really know it yourself. 
A muffled sound suddenly made its way to your ears. It looked like your involuntary prayer had been answered sooner than you would have expected.
It was the sound of hooves.
You snapped your head in the noise’s direction and noticed an approaching form on the road, raising a cloud of dust in its wake, coming towards you. Your only hope. You were praying, for real this time, that this upcoming stranger was a gentleman and not a bad man.
Praying, praying, praying.
Praying again as the man was at voice’s reach, and as you screamed and begged for help.
“M-Mister!” Your voice sounded even more pitiful than what you had planned, and a bit hoarse from the pain. Your ego protested, but screw it, he probably was your last chance. “Mister, please! I broke my leg! I can’t… I can’t…”
Apparently, shouting didn't seem to help the nausea. The more you were getting air out of your lungs by screaming the more your head was feeling dizzy.
Luckily for you, the lonely rider had heard your desperate breathless words and was heading towards you, stopping his horse in a skillful maneuver before dismounting, his two boots hitting the ground.
“What happen Ma’am, d’ya need some help?” He asked you, voice powerful and worried frown on his face.
“My horse got spooked by a damn snake and he ran away… Making me fall and I… I think my leg broke…” Your tone was pained and way weaker than his as you did your best to explain the situation, a single tear now streaming down your cheek.
The pain, the panic, the frustration from having a month’s worth of work destroyed in just mere seconds… You couldn’t hold it anymore.
Slowly approaching you, the man lowered himself in a crouching position to take a better look at you, and talk to you at the same eye level. His deep blue eyes studied your broken leg, surely not missing the disturbing, alarming color the bruises were taking, your skin an odd mix of purple and green now. It didn’t seem to disgust him though, his face stoic as he scanned your wound.
“Alright Miss jus’... Don’t move too much.” He advised you in a softer tone. You could see he was truly concerned about your state. “What’s with all this mess? You trynna make some soup or what?” He asked in a deep sarcastic tone, as if amused by his own words.
You drily chuckle, which revived the pain you were still feeling in your bone, making you cut your laugh and groan a bit, your own features contracting in a pained expression.
“It is… It was my crop… I was going to sell it in Valentine…” You explained once again, feeling shame and exasperation hitting you. You were feeling so angry from this waste, so angry at yourself to be the only one responsible for it, you couldn’t prevent more tears from falling, trying hard not to let yourself go into sobs.
“Ah, shit… I’m sorry for ya.” He exhaled, contemplating the scattered and mashed jelly-like matter composed of what was once your yield, pieces of peaches and broken carrots lying there, like on a battlefield. His gaze came back to yours, full of compassion and probably pity for your state, before continuing. “Don’t worry Miss. I’mma take you up to the Doc, in Valentine. ‘Was goin’ there anyway.”
You nodded in order to thank him, feeling so relieved life had put him on your way. 
“Okay, I’m gonna help ya get on ma horse. It’s gonna hurt a little but we have to.” He warned you, getting completely down on his knees by your side.
You didn’t dare to move from one inch. He slowly wrapped an arm under your shoulders, his hand grabbing your side. Even more carefully, his other one slipped under your legs, and he gently lifted you up bridal-style, as if you weighed nothing, a fallen leaf in a gentle breeze.
 As if he was carrying injured people all day every day.
Your broken member didn’t like it as much as you did though, and you hissed in pain from feeling your own weight pull on the wound as your leg was hanging in the air. He noticed, and spoke again while getting up, just as easily as if he wasn’t carrying an entire person in his arms right now.
“Gonna be okay Miss, hold on a lil’ longer.”
As if taking his words in a literal way, you encircled his waist with your arms and rested your head on his chest. His work shirt was used and dirty, rough against the skin of your cheek, but right now it just felt heavenly to you compared to the dusty rock of the floor. You sighed, feeling calmer and way better now.
If you had brought up your gaze, you could have seen how a slight blush was spreading on the tan skin of his cheeks the moment he felt you getting comfortable in his arms.
You heard him call for his horse with a short whistle and a sharp noise from his teeth. His mount obeyed right away, getting closer to both of you in a happy trot. You wish your horse could have been as gentle as this one. He looked like a really strong and powerful, but very sweet on the inside animal. A bit like its owner, now that you were thinking about it.
As carefully as if you were made of porcelain, the man in question let go of your legs, and you took support on your valid one. He then picked you up again, by your waist, and lifted you on the saddle, helping you to get settled and as comfortable as possible. His large hands were very soft on you, cautious, caring. You could feel how his touch was light and measured, calculated to make you feel the least pain possible.
“You take the saddle, else your leg would get too bumped during the ride.” He explained before hopping behind you, grabbing the reins by bringing his arms from both sides of you.
He was basically enveloping you, his large frame keeping you warm and steady. Against your shoulders, you could feel his biceps, and thanked the Lord once again this man had good intentions with you because there was no way you could have resisted this mountain of muscles.
The silence fell as your gentle savior spurred his horse into a slow pace, keeping him calm and cold-blooded. You mentally thank him for it, every movement from your leg, even the tiniest one, would ignite the flames of your pain again.
The ride to Valentine was a quiet, peaceful one, just like it was supposed to be from the start. Your eyes kept closing and opening as if you were on the verge of falling asleep, but still needed to be alert until you'd be safe and sound in town. 
You only had exchanged a few words with the man, your names, and where you lived. 
Arthur Morgan didn't look like the kind of man to have the longest conversations but his presence was reassuring nevertheless. His heavy breathing, his body around yours, the calmness of the plains… It was all making your pain less vivid and way more bearable.
Once in Valentine, Arthur rode straight to the Doctor, and got off first, tying his horse's reins around the fence.
“Here we are, Miss. Let's get ya checked up for good, shall we?” He said while standing right next to the saddle, opening his arms to pick you up again, a gentle smile on his face, as if telling you all your worries were behind you now.
If you thought this man was going to let you walk alone to the doc’s office and head off to his own business, you were damn wrong.
Even through your terrible state, a grin curled up your lips and mirrored his own expression. You let your tired and injured body sink into his solid one, and he carried you in his arms once again.
His scent ran through your nose as you breathed, traveling all the way down your veins to your lungs and everywhere in your body, enfolding you and your soul. It was a strong smell, not a delicate one like those gentlemen would carry with their cologne, but you liked it regardless. A mix of leather, sweat, tobacco, and this early dew scent, the one you can smell just before dawn, earthy and herbal, as if he had been sleeping under the stars for months. 
The smell of the outdoors. 
Arthur opened the door with one foot, and entered the Dr Calloway’s office with you in his arms, careful not to let your leg get knocked while walking through the door. The doctor took care of you right away, ordering Arthur to put you on the chair in the little room where patients were treated.
His muscled arms dropped you, his hands gentle and attentive, as slowly as if you were a newborn filly he could hurt or scare away by using too much force. There was such kindness, such gentleness and care in his gesture that it left you feeling all bubbly on the inside.
You kept on looking at him during all the time it took for Dr Calloway to treat you, waiting for him to just go, but he didn’t. He stayed, casually leaning his back against the wall to leave some space for the doctor, his eyes voyaging from your injury to your face, then away from you, as if he was feeling guilty about staring at you like this. It made you giggle.
You paid the doctor, thanked him goodbye, and before you could process it, here you were, freshly gifted with two crutches and a wooden splint around your injury in front of his door. Perfect. For a farmer family, a hurt worker was a curse.
“You gonna be okay now, Miss? D’ya need another ride home?”
Arthur’s deep voice dragged you out of your thoughts. This man was so special. He looked used, strong, and intimidating, but had been nothing but kind and delicate with you. Right now, his deep azure gaze was staring right at yours, making you feel even weaker in the knees than you already were.
“Oh, don’t worry, my family is already here. We have a wagon and all. Besides, you have done plenty for me, Mister Morgan.”
“Ah, don’t ya worry. 'Did what any man would have done seein’ a pretty lil’ lady like ya hurt on the ground.” He answered with a subtle grin.
Before you could realize it, his hand was reaching out for a strand of your hair, and his fingers brushed against it.
You froze, feeling a dark red settling on your cheeks, your eyes looking back at his in surprise and disbelief, searching for an explanation, even if your heart didn't want it. It wanted more of it, no questions asked.
“You hum… You still got some… pieces of peaches or somethin’ in your hair, Miss…” He explained himself, his voice a little less self-assured than before.
You blushed even more. You indeed must looked like a total mess after your accident, and mentally noted to go fix yourself as soon as possible.
“Oh, God I…” You started, feeling embarrassed and flustered, words mixing and blurring in your mind instead of lining up properly. You just sighed, closing your eyes, giggling a little. You then spoke again, keeping your tone as calm as you could. “Thanks again, Mister Morgan.”
“Please, jus’ call me Arthur.”
“Alright, Arthur. Thank you, for everything. I don’t know how I could thank you enough.”
“You know, maybe I could come someday, at your farm I mean, and buy some of your stuff. You could give me a rebate on those, unless everythin’ you sell actually looks like jam…” He added with a mischievous, low chuckle, gaze sparkling.
“Hey! My crops are perfect, Mister. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” You said back in an equally amused tone, a toothy smile completing the picture of your precious blushing face.
“I'm sure I won’t be, lil’ peach.” 
His voice had turned just as soft as his touch had been when carrying you; for Arthur, you really were starting to become his sugary, soft, and delicious favorite fruit.
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