#fluff/angst blend

[aventurineswife]

"Paris, The City Of Light" - Anaxagorus x Astrologist! Reader

(Honestly speaking, this song is very unrestrained and enigmatic in a way then reaches a calmer more serene moment. Think it's very fitting of him during a grand speeche or something n' the reader comes in frame. Or perhaps an event of some kind they go to alongside each other.)

“Vanity in the Time of Love”

Summary: Amidst the grand halls of a celestial symposium beneath, Anaxagoras—the heretical scholar known as the Demised—delivers a blistering speech on truth and defiance, watched by the one person who has ever made him falter: you, a fierce and emotionally scarred astrologist once known only for your wrath and loyalty. Through quiet glances and a shared history carved in loss and memory, the two of you navigate the blurred boundary between philosophy and affection, intimacy and isolation, as the stars watch in silence. The city around you pulses like music—unrestrained, enigmatic, fleeting—and for a moment, so do you both.

Tags: Anaxa x Reader, Astrologist!Reader, Star-Crossed Lovers, Emotional Vulnerability, Slow-Burn Tension, Grand Speech Moment, Philosophical Themes, Vanitas Imagery, Fluff/Angst Blend, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mutual Pining, Soul Metaphysics, Tragic Undertones, Complicated Intimacy, Celestial/Astronomical Symbolism.

Warnings: Mentions of past enslavement and trauma (?), Hints of emotional manipulation, Oblique references to death and loss, Introspective melancholy, Academic/religious heresy, Existential themes (mortality, divinity, vanitas), Subtle romantic tension with emotionally complex dynamics.

Tagslist: @sewoui

The auditorium swelled with murmurs, a sea of scholars, dissenters, zealots, and gods-in-hiding filling the Grove’s shattered heart—now a sanctum of forbidden discourse. Moonlight leaked through fractured glass, casting broken constellations upon polished stone, and at the center of it all stood Anaxagoras. Not a man anymore, not entirely. A ghost of genius, draped in defiance and golden embroidery.

You leaned against a pillar at the rear, arms crossed, stars glinting within your eyes—not the reflection of chandeliers, but something innate, celestial. The child you protected—small, curious, and seated beside you—gripped the hem of your clothing, their breath caught between awe and fear.

Then his voice rang out—sharp as frost, warm as flame:

"They call me 'The Foolish,' and perhaps I am. For I do not tremble before the gods, nor do I kneel. The truth needs no altar, only fire."

The music of his words—resonant, unshackled—carried across the marble veins of the hall. Each phrase was a rebellion. Each pause, a provocation. The crowd responded like shifting tides, some cheering, some jeering, others too spellbound to move.

He saw you.

Of course he did. He always saw you.

A flicker—his pale aqua eye met yours, briefly veiled by the golden-patterned patch. The magenta shimmer behind his iris flared, a silent recognition. And suddenly, that unrestrained symphony shifted, grew quieter, gentler.

He spoke not just to them now, but to you.

"I have dissected souls and transcribed screams into scripture. I've danced with death, and I have not wept. But I have feared only one thing in this life—that the stars might forget their names. That the cosmos, vast and ancient, might abandon its promise to those who still gaze up from the dirt."

Your heart tightened.

He was talking about you. About the night you first met, when you mistook him for a charlatan trying to mock your astrological charts. You had nearly slit his throat when he laughed, not cruelly, but in wonder.

“Ah. A fighter who reads the heavens. A contradiction. A poem.”

He had seen through you then too, peeling past rage and pride, down to the trembling hands of someone terrified to hope.

Later, you walked the garden ruins together. The child slept beside a sculpture of an eyeless deity. The air was cool, kissed by the scent of crushed Antila petals.

"You shouldn't have said those things," you muttered.

"What things?"

"About the gods. About the scholars. About me."

"But they were true," he said, brushing his fingers against a wilted flower. "And I’ve spent too many years with liars."

You sat beside him, the stars above softening in their brilliance. The silence that passed was not awkward—it was rare. Sacred.

"Do you still see souls?" you asked.

"Only when I want to," he replied.

He turned to you, gaze no longer blazing but soft, mournful. "Yours… was the first that didn’t try to escape when I touched it."

You laughed. "That’s because I didn't know how."

He reached out, gloved fingers brushing your cheek. A gesture too intimate for someone so cerebral. But there he was, trembling again—like the boy with the mechanical bird.

"You should’ve run from me," he whispered. "But instead, you… stayed. Even after I failed. Even after I became a vanitas."

You leaned into his touch.

"Because I saw the truth too, Anaxa. Not the kind in equations or soulflames, but the one that makes you human."

He closed his eyes, and for a moment, the music of the world stilled—no lectures, no experiments, no divine verdicts. Just the lingering heat of your presence. Just the quiet acceptance of a man who had scorched the heavens and found, somehow, love in the ashes.

You rested your head on his shoulder.

The stars above blinked slowly, like ancient eyes closing in reverence.

And below, in the ruin where gods once dwelled, a former slave and a fallen scholar held each other, both pretending for just a little while that truth did not hurt.

"If I die tomorrow," he said softly, "burn my body into ink. Let someone write something kinder with it than the world ever did."

You smiled faintly. "Then you'd better live. I've already written your name in my stars."

And like that, the music swelled once more—an enigmatic sonata turning serene, twining through the ghosts of memory, threading into fate.

Together, you watched the stars.

And for once, they watched back.

[Navigation]

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 28

Thomas stared down at Bruce-no- Danny as he led him by the hand toward what he had dubbed as his "Secret Lair" which was just an old fall out shelter in the woods that had been well hidden and forgotten about. The door to it was old and still buried under years of dirt and plant growth, requiring Danny to phase them into it which made Thomas wonder how his grandson had found it in the first place.

Inside was surprisingly high tech. "You have a secret lair filled with all this equipment but don't have any weapons or armor?" Thomas asked, making mental preparations to fix that.

Danny sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and explained his only allies were two other 14 year olds who were also untrained, unarmed, unarmored, and unsuper-powered which would explain why Danny was so excited to be working with an adult vigilante who at least knew what they were doing.

The kid didn't even mind when some of his more evil or harmful rogues "stopped showing up" thankfully no one would really question the reclusive Vlad Masters "going back to Wisconsin" only to never be seen again. No one saw much of him before coming to Amity Park, it made since he would become a hermit again once he had his fill of human interaction.

And if hes later found dead in his cheese castle? Well, the body had decomposed too much to really say what killed him. His will left everything to a Daniel James Fenton/Daniel James Masters which visibly infuriated Danny. Thomas mentally patted himself on the back. It was a good call to get rid of that one. The will was a surprise, though one that can only benefit Thomas in his crusade of protecting his grandson. Its not like he can return to a timeline that no longer exists anyway.

Unfortunately this doesn't stop the bats from hearing about "Batman" operating in a city in Illinois for the past few months...

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Today’s @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is water :)

(188 words.)

“It was one of the highest marks in the class.” Remus says, beaming at his father, who merely shrugs, offering a halfhearted smile.

“That’s nice. Well done.” With that, he’s back to his newspaper, complaining about politics, or something. At this point, Remus just lets it roll off his back like water. It’s gotten harder and harder to draw Lyall’s focus to him, he’s accepted defeat.

Trudging up to his room, he immediately brightens as he recognises the Potter house’s owl perching on his windowsill. That can only mean one thing.

A letter from Sirius.

He pulls it free and quickly scratches the owl’s back, unfurling the parchment and dropping onto his bed.

‘Moony,

You’re a fucking genius! Talk about outsmarting everyone. If Minnie doesn’t make you Head Boy then she’s missing a bloody trick, really.

Really though, well done. You did brilliantly.

Miss you,

Your Padfoot’

Remus stares at the messily drawn heart beside the careful cursive of the note, and can’t help the smile that draws it’s way across his face, warmth in his chest growing.

God, he loves that boy.

He really loves that boy.

[0xy--m0r0n]

"We'll find them, Katie. I promise."

ive had this drawing for a while now but the reason i never posted it was because it was for a fic i was writing but never finished, and i didn't wanna get anyone's hopes up 😭

maybe I'll finish it one day but like. do Not expect anything 💀

also if you have a keen eye, you'll notice the stars are my banner image and have been for a while teehee

also this is primarily platonic!!!! please no shipping them here :(

pidge is very much a minor and shiro is dating her brother in my brain 🎉

also can you tell i figured out the coloured text thingy 💀

[keldae]

🫘 💥?

🫘 Spill the beans. What’s a new project you’re doing this year?

I don't know if it counts as a new project, but @obvious-apostate and I started not one, but two BG3 AUs that we're co-writing. One takes place in the game setting and is a soulmates AU, and the other one is a modern AU, both featuring her Tav (Lessa Hawke) with Astarion and Devi with Gale (the modern AU features me indulging a wildly-inappropriate student/professor kink... spoiler alert. ;) ). We're both having a ton of fun with them! =D Otherwise, I'd like to finish my original manuscript this year dammit (like I've been saying since 2021...)

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you’re most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

I've been kinda bouncing around the modern!AU setting - we've written chronologically up to about Chapter 21 or so, and then I bounced ahead. So far my scenes that I've written include a sappy first-date that would give a Hallmark exec cavities from how sweet it is, and some shameless smut, and an attempted unintentional murder/Devi having the worst panic attack of her entire life. But that would be giving away hella major spoilers, sooooo have some fluff instead. ;) (For some context, Halsin is the therapist who runs the recovery house where Devi and Lessa both reside. Devi in this 'verse is a juvenile delinquent recovering from a god-awful abusive childhood and all the trauma that comes with that.)

“Some days I feel old,” Devi mumbled. “I'm not even twenty and I've had such a fucked-up life.” “You have gone through more than most people twice your age have experienced,” Halsin agreed. “But you are more than the circumstances of your upbringing. And your caseworkers are very pleased with your progress – you'll be a law-abiding, respectable member of society in no time.” He winked and gave her a little nudge with his elbow. “Add in your degree in a couple of years…” Devi grinned at Halsin's prediction, then leaned into his arm, her hands still wrapped around her mug. “I wish you had been my dad,” she quietly confessed. “Then I wouldn't be so fucked up now.” Halsin froze, and for a second Devi feared that she had irrevocably fucked up yet again. But then she felt her guardian's cheek on her hair as he leaned back against her. “I wish I'd been your dad too,” he softly said. “Then you would have had the happy, safe childhood that you deserved. But I'm damn proud to be your surrogate father figure now. Your biological father might be a piece of work, but I'm sure that if your mother knew what had happened to you, she would be proud of you for all you've overcome. I know Jaheira is proud of you, as much as I am.” Her throat tightening, Devi sniffled at Halsin's words, and felt him wrap his arm around her shoulders. “It's okay,” he murmured. “You're not alone. And you are not ‘fucked up’ – perhaps a little scarred and bruised, but you aren't broken. You're strong and resilient. And you will heal from your childhood, and from this newest heartbreak that you're going through.” “You're a jerk for making me cry,” Devi mumbled as she sniffled again, tears escaping her eyes. “Sorry.” Halsin squeezed her shoulders a little tighter. “Will I make you cry more if I say I'm proud of my surrogate daughter? Even if she doesn't believe in the proper way to load a dishwasher, tracks dirt in the house, and frequently changes my car's radio station to that abomination you call ‘metal music’?” Devi laughed at that, despite her tears, and looked up to see Halsin's fond grin. “It's not an abomination,” she protested. “It's better than that old-timey twangy banjofest you like.” Halsin snorted and ruffled Devi's hair. “Brat,” he said, without any true bite to his words. “I make you the specialty hot chocolate, with sprinkles, and you insult my music taste?” He grinned as she giggled, his mock-stern tone spoiled by his laughter. “See if I teach you the magic behind the hot chocolate after this.” “You're still my favourite bear druid pseudo-dad person?” Devi offered with a laugh. “Even if your music choices suck?” She was rewarded with an exaggerated eye roll from Halsin. “Kids these days…”

[necroneos]

I got an angst comm and I love it

"Why won't you let me support you?! I want to be somebody you can rely on, I want you to be happy...!"

Everyone please consider commissioning @lehguru , they were the lovely one to draw this for me ❤️

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Thanks for sharing your merman Suguru with usss❤️❤️❤️ (and also thanks for informing me about the request stuff AND YOU ALREADY PUT THE FİC INTO YOUR WİP??❤️❤️) okay so I have too many ideas it can get from fluff to angst but first I think we need to figure out where did the reader found an aquarium big enough for his big ass (I looked it up he is 1,90 in cm and 6’3” in inches)🌙

HEHE OFCCCC I’M ALREADY WRITING THE OUTLINE FOR IT >:33 u and the other anons have given me so much to work with …. TYSM FOR SHARING YOUR IDEAS TOO IT’S SM FUNNN

AND AND AND hear me out … i think reader would just keep him in their bathtub while he’s recovering 😭😭😭 is it mildly cruel? maybe but suguru will manage. me and rem were also talking about reader buying him fish flakes and dropping them into the bath for him while he stares into their soul like 🤨 PHDNDBDH i just think it’s so funny ….. but then they go and buy fresh fish from the market and sugu is happy as a clam :333

no but just imagine walking into ur bathroom and seeing this goddess in ur tub ……. just chilling…. his beautiful fish tail is hanging out a bit but it’s okay. i feel like reader would go collect seashells and sand and stuff just to make him feel more at home 🥺🥺 he kinda scoffs but he appreciates it. i just think this would be a lovely enemies to lovers thing where suguru hates humans but learns to trust reader… you’re his favorite human <3333 you call him your little fishy <3333333 he scoffs but the tips of his ears are red <333333333 u get me.

[burgerspeople]

i just got a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea for a future chapter 😎

[kaleidoscopic-quiddity]

i know i shouldnt be suprised but sinners being out for less than a week and already tumblr is fandomifying and 'poor wet pathetic cat'-ifying the main white man villain of the movie is so... disapointing??? like did the fucking point of the movie really go over your heads that badly or are you just willingly ignorant and stupid?

AND BEFORE ANYONE STARTS; im not saying you cant like remmick, he's a very interesting character, a great villain, and jack o'connell gave a great performance playing him, nor do i care if you think hes sexy, I think hes sexy

but i think to come out of a movie where vampires serve as a metaphor for how black american communities have the life sucked out of them by white people via cultural appropriation (remmick wanting to use sammie's gift to summon his own ancestors) and forced assimilation (all the turned vampires singing and dancing along with remmick's irish folk song and dance juxtaposed with the blend of cultures during sammie's song in the juke joint) and for your main take away to be 'aww the main villain is just a misunderstood sadboy' or 'idc abt the atrocities he looked sexy doing them (when the atrocities in question were racism)' then youre just being so disengenuous and antithetical to the whole point of the film?

and dont come at me with the 'let people enjoy things' bullshit, sinners is a movie FUNDAMENTALLY about racism and racial dynamics in the united states, and i do think focusing on your little y/n x [whiteboy of the month] fics and 'hes so babygirl' posts do actually stunt your own critical engagement with the message this movie was trying to convey to its audience

i think its also a disservice to remmick's character; the moral nuance that comes to light when you consider his position as an irish immigrant to the US, a victim of the colonialist british empire just like the black main cast (although in a very different way) and how, whilst his desire to reclaim his ancestry and heritage is understandable and even relatable, his pursuit of sammie and willingness to kill literally everyone else at the juke joint is allegorical for how, regardless of their own marginalisation, white people will prey upon and steal from black culture(s) and destroy/disenfranchise black communities to serve their own interests, and the movie is NOT subtle about this either, delta slim literally lays it out for us "white folks like the blues just fine, they just don't like the people who make them"

idk im yelling into the void here, the ppl im complaining about are never going to give a shit about racism or even just critically engaging with art when theres a new cute whiteboy to write fluff and angst about, but its just soooo annoying to see, yet again, how fandom spaces, which SHOULD be about uplifing and celebrating art in all its diversity and complexity, once again is nothing more than people ignoring anything that actually makes them have to confront reality and filing off the serial numbers to slot characters into pre-determined fanon molds so they can pump out incorrect quotes and coffee shop AUs en masse until the media iliterate heat death of the universe

[chuluoyi]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

husband and wife, at the pinnacle of their love. on a night filled with wonders, you will know that he sees only you and everything that you are

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, explicit smut: slightly rough & drunken sex, fingering, missionary. you and zayne have a daughter (her name is meirin!)

note: god what have i written... the anniversary banner pv made me do it T^T anyhow, this is also a direct prequel to the upcoming angst fic in the name of love :))

“Whoa, so that’s Dr. Zayne and his wife...”

Soft whispers rippled through the crowd the moment you and your husband stepped into the pristine ballroom, all eyes subtly drawn to your arrival.

Tonight, you were accompanying Zayne to Akso Hospital’s anniversary dinner party. His sharp gaze and immaculate three-piece suit made a striking impression. Naturally, you matched his sophistication in every way—your flowing black dress accentuated your figure, while your hair styled into an elegant updo.

A sight for sore eyes, that was what the two of you were.

“Mind your step,” he murmured softly, his voice reassuring as the two of you gracefully ascended the stairs. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but notice the envious gazes of the ladies fixed on you.

“How does such a perfect couple even exist?”

“She’s so pretty… Of course, Dr. Zayne only wants the best.”

“Oh! And I’ve heard they already have a daughter too!”

A smile curled on your lips, a subtle boost of confidence washing over you as their murmurs reached your ears. You felt giddy too—on most days, you were a hunter in a life-and-death situations, rough and rugged. But tonight, draped in elegance and arm-in-arm with Zayne, you felt like a princess.

“Don’t smile that wide...” he suddenly whispered to your ears, a twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You’ll look like Meirin when she’s munching on her cookies.”

You shot him a frown. “Wha?”

“All those praises are going straight to your head.” Even in a prestigious event like this, Zayne couldn’t resist teasing you. “Sooner or later, it’ll get too big for me to handle.”

Fixing him with an unimpressed glare, you deadpanned, “Shush, you!”

When you reached the main hall, the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air, blending with the elegant music playing in the background. The hospital director, an elderly man with a warm smile, greeted you both along with his wife.

"Zayne, thank you for coming," he said, shaking your husband's hand and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. His gaze then turned to you. "Ah, this must be the stellar hunter wife of Dr. Zayne. You look absolutely radiant, madam."

"Ah, please don't call me that..." You mustered your most polished facade, supplying a soft, graceful laugh.

The director's wife grinned and added, "Why didn’t you bring your daughter here? Everyone’s looking forward to finally meet her already."

"She's a handful," Zayne immediately replied with a smile, his tone warm and affectionate. "And she gets fussy when her bedtime nears, so we decided to leave her with my in-laws tonight."

The director let out a hearty guffaw. "No matter how fussy she is, she must be really adorable with a mother this beautiful, eh?"

Throughout the night, it was a compliment you frequently heard. While you were flattered, a thought lingered in the back of your mind—what were your husband's true thoughts about all this attention to you?

Zayne was keenly aware of how captivating you were.

There was a surge of pride whenever he had you on his arm. Just like any man out there, he too wanted to show his hot wife off and flaunt her so everyone could see, as if saying: This is my woman.

But he too knew that it was in a human's nature to covet what they didn't have. And it was rightly proven when he stepped away for just a moment, only to return and find you engaged in conversation with a man.

The hospital director's son, no less.

"Miss, I've heard you're part of the Hunter Association?" he asked you inquisitively. "What a noble profession it is! Keeping all of us here safe on daily basis."

You responded demurely, "And those in Akso do the same, don’t they?"

Your conversation was harmless, and Zayne was a rational man, so he didn’t feel the need to intervene. He just made sure his gaze was on you every so often.

But when the director’s son began persistently offering you drinks, filling your glass time after time, Zayne's patience began to wear thin. The sight of the man’s insistence grated on him, stirring a possessive unease he couldn’t entirely ignore.

. . .

You could’ve sworn your vision swam a little after the third glass of alcohol. The warm buzz coursing through you also made everything seem a little brighter, and left you feeling just slightly off-balance.

"Miss, the white wine here is the best—" the man standing before you declared with a convincing grin, swirling the bottle in front of you. "Don't you want to try some?"

"Ah, no, sir..." you replied with a polite laugh, raising a hand in subtle refusal. "I've already had whiskey and gin just now—"

"Just a little! You really have to try it!"

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck as the alcohol already coursing through your system made your cheeks flush. You didn’t even like alcohol much and only drank socially, but this was the very son of your husband's boss. Refusing outright seemed rude—

“Can you kindly not make her drink too much?”

Or so you thought, until your knight in three-piece suit suddenly stepped in and saved you from your plight.

Zayne’s tone was gentle yet firm, his words striking an authoritative balance. He flashed a placating smile. “My wife doesn’t have a very high tolerance.” Swiftly, he grabbed the glass from your hand and, without missing a beat, downed its contents in one go.

“If you’re looking for a drinking partner, let it be me instead.”

You knew better than anyone that your husband didn’t have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol either. Yet, for the next 30 minutes, you watched, equal parts impressed and concerned, as he matched the man drink for drink, deflecting further offers directed your way with a subtle, protective grace. Though Zayne’s words remained measured, you could see the flush creeping up his neck.

And soon, you’d witness just how far his limits had been pushed.

“Zayne! Are you alright?”

Worry laced your voice as you placed both hands on Zayne's cheeks, your brow furrowing in concern. Somehow or another you managed to drag your husband away and led him to the hotel room.

The warmth of his skin was unmistakable, and his face contorted in discomfort as the vertigo hit him full force. “Oh no, what have you done? Why did you even drink that much!?”

“I’m fine,” Zayne grumbled, his voice thick.

“You’re drunk!” You couldn't help but scold him as you started pulling off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt, trying to help him breathe easier. “You can’t even handle alcohol properly, and yet you’re trying to keep up with him...”

To Zayne, your voice somehow felt comforting. His mind was hazed, but your touch—your hand against his neck—felt like a cool splash of clarity.

His pretty wife... The dizziness was making it hard to stay upright, but the sight of you grounded him, and he instinctively leaned into you—

“Zayne—!”

You barely managed to catch his weight, instinctively wrapping your arms around him. He was so warm against you, his breath uneven, not to mention the slight tremor in his body. "Are you alright?!" you asked in a flurry. "Oh, let me get you some water—"

"You talk too much..." Zayne murmured, his words slurred as everything around him swayed.

Gripping your shoulder to steady himself, his unfocused gaze lingered on you, drawn to the curve of your lips, the delicate line of your neck, and the outline of your cleavage.

How can he have a wife this ravishing and do nothing?

And suddenly, he was sober. Very sober.

Or maybe not. It was simply just him finally giving in to his desires.

In one go, he seized your wrist, yanking you against him with sudden force— and with a quick tilt of your startled, precious face, he devoured your lips in heat.

"—!" It was like a spark igniting, burning through every thought. His mouth was urgent, demanding, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel the rush of your closeness. His kiss was intoxicating—almost overwhelming—as he tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head to gain better access.

Zayne's hands moved to your back, pulling you into him, so close that the heat of his body pressed against yours. Then those sinful hands wandered to your hips, guiding you toward the desk. With reckless urgency, he swept everything off the surface, sending objects crashing to the floor with a sharp clang and made you sit on it.

"Ah, Zayne, you—!" You accidentally pushed him back, and he growled the moment your lips parted.

"Are you trying... to escape?" His gaze turned dark with lust, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "Why? Isn't this exactly how you wanted me to be...?"

In that moment, you gulped as your heart thundered in your chest. What was even happening now? How did it escalate into this?

You stuttered, eyes widened, "Z-Zayne..."

But your husband had shed all traces of his usual composed self. In the haze of his muddled thoughts, he was driven purely by need. He swiftly removed his glasses, tossing them aside without a second thought, and this time—

His lips went straight for your neck, which, unbeknownst to you, had looked so enticing to him all evening.

"Hahh..." His breathy grunts were hot against your skin and his touch no longer gentle but firm and possessive. His mouth moved with a mix of hunger and desperation, and you struggled to contain the moans as his hands slipped inside your dress, and—

A shiver ran down your spine when he spread your legs, and you couldn’t help the titillating gasp that escaped when inserted his two of his fingers in you all at once, edging you.

"Ungh, ngh! Hah—" Your body jerked and you clung to him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Zayne wasn't usually this brash, but tonight it was as if a screw had come loose.

"Louder," he commanded in your ear, and your heart pounded at his authoritative voice. He pushed his digits deeper as if punishing you, that you yelped. "Do not hold back."

He lifted you by your waist, effortlessly pressing you against the small table by the window. You were on the 20th floor, the world below far out of sight, but the thought that anyone might catch a glimpse was somehow... thrilling.

"I-I'm close—" you stammered, and the moment you did, your husband vigorously moved his fingers inside your squelching folds, "A-ah!"

The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The way your walls took his fingers alone made your thoughts scatter, and when you came undone on him, you latched onto him, your head resting against his chest as your breaths came in shaky, uneven gasps. "Z-Zayne... please..."

He pulled out his fingers, looked at your cum coating them, and brought them to your lips. You, still trembling, sucked the essence off with teary eyes.

Sweaty, disheveled, lips swollen and cheeks flushed... how he had reduced you into this state was gratifying.

Zayne’s gaze darkened, his breath heavy as he stared down at you. "Are you ready to take me now?"

You nodded.

He gave you a small smirk, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw gently. "Good girl."

He lifted you over to the bed, and you gasped in surprise as he tossed you onto the soft sheets, the motion quick but not unkind. You barely had time to react before his intense gaze locked onto yours, his presence domineering above you.

“Spread your legs.”

Was this man really your husband? Sometimes, you still struggled to reconcile the tender part of him and the man consumed by a unrestrained intensity before you now.

By now you had swallowed all shame and did so. You wanted to look away, but then unable to when the sight before you caught your breath—

All the while, he had his eyes on you. Zayne pulled at his tie with deliberate intent, then he shed his suit pieces, casting them to the floor with a casual abandon, before undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt, revealing his bare chest altogether.

Your husband looks so hot. The way he gazed at you throughout it all too...

He glanced at the space between your legs. “Wider.”

You complied, letting your face burn impossibly hotter, anticipating him.

He eased in slowly, starting with just the tip. You whimpered at the intrusion.

"Hurts?" he questioned with a frown.

"No," you refuted quickly, desire too burning in your gaze as you met his eyes. "I can take more."

You arched your back as Zayne sank deeper, his full length filling you. A moan tumbled from your lips as your walls clenched in response, and he pushed himself completely inside you.

"Hah..." You inhaled sharply, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his entire length, and seeing you like that, your husband cradled the side of your face with his palm.

"So beautiful..." Zayne whispered, his glazed gray-hazel eyes fixed on your spent face. His other hand clasped yours, pinning it beside your head. "My wife... is so incredibly beautiful."

It was heart-fluttering to know that your husband found you pretty. Everyone might compliment you the same way, but his were the only one that truly mattered. After seven years of marriage, your heart still skipped a beat every time he held your gaze like this.

Without warning, Zayne started to move his hips. Your moans got louder and unabashed as his movements were slow at first, before he picked up the pace and thrusted in and out of you with fervor.

"Ahhh!" You threw your head back as his thick cock messily dragged itself against your walls. In, out, in out— Stars began to blur your vision, your nails digging into his shoulder as you reached for him.

You could see that excited glint in his eyes, the lust exploding at the sight of you. He watched you intently, savoring the way unbound desire twisted your face, each mewl you made filling the air. Your thoughts turned into puzzle pieces—

Thrust. So full, you are.

Thrust. What if... this time— you become pregnant again?

Thrust. That would be... nice. You can call it “New Years’ baby.”

Everything was incoherent. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, each hit to that one spot sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you to the brink of tears and screams.

Then, unexpectedly, he reached his climax first. His cum shot through, filling your womb to the brim in spurts after spurts, and you cried, trembling beneath him. Your release followed suit though, and you went limp in the aftermath.

Zayne collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, his name still falling off your lips as a whisper in his ear, a gentle song laced within moans. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, panting heavily against you.

“I love you.”

The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in a tangled web of desire.

The first thing he heard was your whimper.

With a groan, Zayne cracked his eyes open the morning after, instantly recognizing the dull ache in his head—it was a hangover. But before he could press his hands to his temples, his gaze fell on you, curled up in a blanket next to him.

And the whimper came again, and it tugged at something deep inside him.

“What’s... wrong?” he asked in a groggy voice, turning toward you, his hand instinctively reaching for you despite the pounding headache. “Are you alright...?”

You blinked up at him, a flicker of resentment in your gaze, and Zayne gathered you into his arms. The events of last night came back to him in fragments, and realization dawned on him.

“Are you... sore?” he murmured, concern edging his tone.

“I hate you,” you retorted in a scratchy voice, mushing your head in his shoulder. Zayne widened in slight surprise, pulling you closer into his embrace.

“Is that it...? I’m sorry...”

He gently patted your head and back, trying to soothe you. The sight of you—vulnerable and distressed—made his heart tighten with a pang of guilt. Just how rough had he been with you last night?

“There, there, it’ll pass...” he said quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s normal... because we went longer and more vigorous than usual... Probably just mild irritation in your—”

“Don’t pull medical facts on me,” you muttered sullenly, weakly punching his chest. A smile made its way to his face at your mini attack.

“But it’s true though?”

How endearing. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his heart softening at the sight of you, even in your grumpy state.

And in that moment, Zayne thought, nothing could've possibly ever shatter his world ever again.

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (ongoing) | masterlist

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: loosely inspired by what’s wrong with secretary kim. there will be irregular updates as this story progresses. thank you for reading! :)

SERIES PLAYLIST

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, and smut (details in each chapter).

MAIN MASTERLIST

please reblog and leave a comment (or two) and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! if I leave you off of it by accident, shoot me an ask and I’ll be sure to add ya.

***

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

[munsonburn3r]

AHHH OBSESSED WITH THEM

I could tell you this is *really* it, but you’d never believe me… 18+, MDNI 1.7k

older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson

cw: pregnancy/fertility discussions

continued from here, index here

“Did you want one?”

Eddie’s voice barely manages to break through the fog your mind had slipped into.

Tangled up with him in the softness of your sheets, cast in the scarlet glow of your scarf-covered lamp, body shiny with a sheen of sweat and your legs still trembling with the effects of the last few hours, it was a miracle your floaty, dopamine-addled brain had even heard.

“Huh?” you asked, lifting your head the full two inches you were able.

He lifts himself from his place between your thighs, where he’s been the last…twenty minutes? Thirty? It’s hard to say. Time has a tendency to stretch and expand when he’s in this mood. 

When all he wants to do is live down there—not even actively trying to get you off, just letting his tongue glide through your folds and play with your clit. Unhurried and engrossed.

Like he has all the time in the world.

Because at last he does.

It was hardly an ideal time to ask, Eddie knew that. But he hadn’t been able to get the question out of his head since earlier that afternoon. Even now, when he was smack dab in his version of heaven, he couldn’t put off the question he’d been wanting to ask any longer.

So he didn’t.

“Did you want one?” he asks again. And then, when your brow furrowed and your head started to shake in confusion, he adds, “A baby.”

“A…baby?” You repeat it slowly, pushing up on your elbows to look at him.

The doe eyes come out in full force as he looks up at you and nods. Round and open and so, so vulnerable it made your chest ache. Even with all the efforts he’d put into making himself look older—the glasses he’d been wearing more and more often, the beard that he was letting grow in—those eyes always gave it away that deep down he was still that scared, eager little twenty-something puppy come to life.

“Why?” you snicker. “You got a friend who can get one wholesale?”

“No,” he snickers back, smoothing his hand over your stomach. A little higher than where a baby would go, but you don’t tell him that. “I was just wondering if you, you know…wanted one.”

“Eddie, I…” You trail off, not quite sure how to answer. Because you’re slowly but surely starting to realize he’s not joking. With a hard swallow, you ask, “Is this about what you found?”

He doesn’t need to nod for you to know it is.

In the midst of clearing out the closet, making room for him to start bringing his stuff over and slowly move in with you over the last few months of his lease, he’d unearthed something.

It was just a shoe box, something that would typically be totally inconsequential. Something you’d stowed on the top shelf in the far corner the first night you spent in this house. Something that only came out for short intervals during particularly heart wrenching bouts of nostalgia.

You hadn’t labeled or decorated it. Hadn’t put anything on it to indicate just how precious its contents were. Nothing more than a tiny “E” in ballpoint ink on the bottom corner of the lid. 

Small enough to miss easily. But Eddie didn’t.

Inside, he found all his notes from that summer folded back up into triangles. A bottle cap from his favorite beer. A guitar pick he’d left out on the patio table one night you’d sat outside looking at the stars while he strummed “Going to California” on his acoustic. He’d had it stuck in his head for days, ever since you told him how Robert Plant and Jimmy Page wrote it for Joni Mitchell.

All the things you felt compelled to keep without fully understanding why.

Near the top were the more recent additions—the blood-stained rag you’d used to bind his hand the day he helped you move. Then the postcard from Berlin Steve sent you that mentioned his name. The envelope with the foreign postage he’d sent your bear in, a copy of Corroded Coffin’s CD.

And the outer packaging of a pregnancy test.

You hadn’t kept the stick itself. That had struck you as a bit too gross. But the box had lain in your wastebasket for weeks, staring at you from atop a pillow of used tissues and make-up wipes and q-tips and emptied toilet paper rolls. And when it finally came time to empty the basket, you found you couldn’t quite bring yourself to tie off the bag with it still sitting inside. 

So into the shoebox it went.

And when you came back up from downstairs, concerned by the sudden lack of thumping that had been near-constant all day, you found him sitting silently on the bed holding it in his hands.

You assured him it had been a false alarm. That the test was negative and that you promptly got your period just a few days after. That you opted not to tell him because you didn’t want him to worry, as you knew he would. That you knew he would have come running without a second thought. And as much as you wished he was there, you didn’t want to do that to him.

And he could understand all that. He really could.

But it doesn’t make him feel any less guilty that he wasn’t here. That he didn’t have a clue it was happening. And it doesn’t make him wonder any less what might have happened if the result had been different. Would you have told him then? Would you have wanted to keep it? Would you have asked his opinion, even knowing he would support whatever decision you made?

You could see his head was swimming with all these questions, getting lost in the whirlpool of them, and grabbed his face with your hands to pull his eyes to yours. 

Stop it, you told him solidly. You don’t need to feel bad about decisions we never had to make.

And you were right. He knew you were right. He didn’t need to worry about doing the right thing, because he could see it in your eyes that you knew he would have no matter what.

So the package went back in the box and the box went back in the closet. And you spent the rest of the day packing and sorting things into piles—toss, donate, storage—until half (okay, a little less than half) of the closet and drawer space was empty and ready for him.

You figured that was that. He didn’t mention it again or act remotely different as you sorted and talked and cleaned. Or when you finally showered and washed the layers of grime and sweat from your bodies only to crawl into the haven of your bed and fall into that easy and tempered, sort of languid lovemaking you both found you liked just as much as the urgent, desperate, carnivorous, animalistic kind of fucking you were prone to.

It wasn’t until he stopped to ask his question that you realized he was still thinking about it.

“Come up here,” you tell him, tugging loosely on a lock of hair by his ear.

And he does.

He slides up to lay beside you, head nestled in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning across your chest as he nuzzles his face against your chin.

You let your nails skim his back, trying to trace the shapes of tattoos you can’t see but know are there. The broadsword on his spine, the barbed vines that wrapped around his bicep, the D20 above his elbow and the bats beneath it.

“Do you want one?” you ask him after a long moment. Muted and wary.

He doesn’t respond right away, taking a beat to chew on his response. And you feel certain he can hear your heartbeat jump to an uneasy rhythm as you wait for his answer. Because what if he does? What if this is it? The moment you come to a real reason this can’t work—that he has dreamt his whole life of a family only to wind up with the person who can’t give him one?

“Honestly, I don’t know…but I’d love to give you one,” he answers solidly, “if that’s what you want. And I’d love there to be more of you in the world.”

“Ed,” you sigh, “I don’t even know if I can get—”

“What if we tried?” he asks, going on before you can dissuade it. “We don’t have to tell anyone we are, we can just…see if it happens. If it does, it does. And if it doesn’t, then…”

“Then what?” you ask quietly.

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Then I’d still have you.”

He rolls onto his elbow and looks up to see the tears just starting to burgeon in your eyes. His hand comes up to brush your temple, following the curve of your jaw that is clenched in thought. The touch of his hand seemingly melts all the tension there, almost like magic, and you feel yourself similarly melting—looking back at this man who loves you so deeply and definitively.

Because you would love nothing more than for there to be more of him in the world.

“So, when are we gonna start…seeing,” you asked with a shy smile. “Right now?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, the corners of his mouth twitching he was trying so hard not to break out in a stupid-big, beaming smile.

“Maybe not just yet,” he said, the mirth in his voice shining through.

“No?” you ask, your brows lifting in surprise. “How long are we waiting, then?”

“Well, that all depends…” He ducked back down and returned to nuzzling your neck, lowering his voice to a husky murmur in your ear. “...on when you wanna get married.”

You let out breathy chuckles in between the quick, zealous kisses he began to drop on your skin, the ends of his hair tickling as they brushed the side of your face and fell across your chest.

“Ohh,” you laughed, reaching to lace your fingers with his. “Are you gonna marry me, then?”

Eddie pulled back once more and grinned down at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling his smile was so wide, his expression alight and filled with the purest form of mischief.

“Baby, I thought you’d never ask.”

prev┃

Standin’ on a hill in the mountain of dreams, tellin’ myself it’s not as hard, hard, hard as it seems…

requested taggies: @cryingglightningg, @saramelaniemoon, @tlclick73, @winchester-angel, @nope-thanks

@bastardstevie, @skyfullofsong123, @mmmunson, @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction, @micheledawn1975

@alastorssimp, @itsrainingbisexualfrogs, @maskofmirrors, @darknesseddiem, @comeonatmebruh

@aurora-austen, @mrsjellymunson, @yujyujj, @ilovetaquitossmmmm, @cranberry-moth

[taeghi]

keep it between us

the rule was simple: don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend. but jay doesn't make it that easy. so it leaves you thinking... are some rules meant to be broken?

PAIRING : bffs ex-bf!jay x y/n

GENRE : SMUT = MDNI, angst, some fluff?? cheating, some cum play, choking, slight slapping, degradation, exhibitionism

WC : 29.3k!!!!

this wasn't proof read!! im sorry!! pls enjoy

ruby is your best friend in the entire world. 

it’s a fact you find yourself repeating in your head more often than you’d like to admit. almost like you’re reminding yourself that you love this girl. 

it’s easy to realize that you love ruby when it’s just the two of you. whether you’re hanging out in her apartment watching a movie or at a cafe getting coffee together, it’s simple, relaxing. 

but at times like now, you feel like you have to forcibly remind yourself that ruby is your best friend in the entire world. 

your best friend has brought you to a party tonight, even though it’s a wednesday and you both have an 8am class tomorrow. somehow, situations like this are common in your friendship. you tell her no, give a rational, logical reason as to why you say no. and then ruby persuades you with her hunger for spontaneity everytime to do the opposite. 

from the outside, you and ruby look like complete opposites. even right now, at this party, others that don’t know or ruby would guess that you don’t even know each other, let alone be best friends. 

you’re sitting on a couch, lazily holding a red cup with some punch in it that tastes like shit, most likely because it was created by a group of frat boys. you’re sitting with a few people that you know from your classes, adding occasional statements to their conversation. 

meanwhile, ruby is absolutely wasted already, dancing all over heeseung at the pool table. she’s got her arms thrown around his neck, dancing and twirling off his body. you can hear her squeals of laughter from across the room, even over the loud music playing. 

it’s hard to not notice ruby. besides the fact that she’s constantly getting herself into situations where she’s the centre of attention (last weekend she fell off a table at a party from dancing too hard). ruby is beautiful— far away from “stereotypical” beauty. she literally excels with an aura of beauty. everywhere she goes, she has eyes on her. it’s something she’s come to expect and love. 

the thing about you and ruby is that in the areas of yourself that need to be more adventure seeking and social, ruby provides you. in the places where ruby needs more rationality and grounding is what you give her. both of you have traits that the other needs, which perfectly aligns and blends you together. which is what makes ruby your best friend. 

“what the fuck are you doing?” a man’s voice questions angrily. you turn to where the voice came from, right where ruby was dancing with heeseung. the person who you expected to be standing there, was. 

jay park is ruby’s boyfriend. they’ve been dating on and off again for the past two years. you’ve tried to remember the reason why the broke up for the first time, only one month into their relationship at that point, but it’s no use. they’ve broken up so many times over the past two years that you can’t connect what reason to the number of break up. 

jay and ruby are so similar yet so different at the same time. it’s exhausting. 

everyone at your college knows about jay and ruby’s complicated relationship. which is why no one at this party is surprised right now that jay and ruby are fighting, again. 

they both can be chaotic and impulsive, which so easily leads to their fights being dramatic and escalating quickly. they’re unpredictable together. one second they’re yelling until their faces are red, and the next they’re crawling back into bed with each other. their attraction to each other is strong enough that their commitment issues are almost constantly showing. 

“i’m dancing jay, is that a problem?” ruby answers him, her face twisted in annoyance as she holds one of her hands on heeseung’s shoulder as she stares down her boyfriend. 

“yeah, you’re grinding on heeseung, right in front of me.” 

ruby only chuckles, “i’m just having fun, jay. chill out.” 

“chill out?” you can see jay’s jaw tense from across the room, “how can i do that when my girlfriend looks desperate as fuck grinding on whoever is closest to her.” 

ruby’s faux smile drops from her pretty face, her eyes narrowing at jay in front of her. heeseung’s stuck in the middle of them. 

“why can’t i have fun without you getting all possessive? i’m not yours, jay.” 

jay scoffs, “yeah, clearly you fucking aren’t. don’t come near me again.” jay shakes his head at her before he turns, bee-lining it through the crowd of people. 

“fuck you, asshole!” ruby shouts after him, her chest heaving in anger as she watches her ex boyfriend storm out of the party. 

you can’t help but sigh as you know that it’s time for you to get ruby to go home with you. you’ll have to see her switch from crying to yelling in anger about jay until tomorrow morning, when they will most likely forgive each other again. ruby is your best friend in the entire world. 

“have fun,” maria, a girl from your calculus class, nudges you with a smile. knowing to a certain extent what you’re going to have to deal with for the next eight hours. 

“thanks,” you roll your eyes playfully. 

“i just, i don’t get why they can’t just break up for good. like they seem miserable together.” jake, a boy from the rugby team at your college, grumbles. 

you shrug, “if you find out, don’t forget to tell me.” 

your classmates tell you they’ll see you tomorrow as you head over to ruby, who’s sobbing into heeseung’s shirt now. by the look on his face you can tell he has no idea what to do, he feels awkward about this whole thing. 

“ruby?” you place your hands on her shoulders gently, “wanna get out of here?” 

ruby turns to you, her lips pouting and her makeup running down her face, “please, y/n.” 

she lets you start to guide her away from poor heeseung and outside. you smile awkwardly at heeseung, trying to reassure him that everything’s fine. he looks as confused as ever, but he manages to smile back at you before you get lost in the sea of people. 

ruby puts her head on your shoulder during the uber ride home. her crying has turned into small sniffles. “he’s such an asshole, y/n.” she tells you, a sentence that you’ve heard one million times before. 

“i know,” 

ruby lifts her head up to look at you, her lips still in a pout, “but he’ll come back, right? he always does.” 

you force a reassuring smile at her, knowing that no matter what you say, she’ll only listen to what she thinks. “right, he always does.” 

she manages to smile weakly at your words, returning her head to your shoulder. 

ruby is your best friend in the entire world. 

you wake up the next morning, way past 8am, to your phone ringing. 

almost blinding, you reach for it, keeping your head on your pillow as you answer and mumble a scratching “hello” into the line. 

you instantly hear crying, gasping for air, like sobbing, “he— he blocked me!” 

“who?” you rub your eyes, trying to understand what you were hearing.

“jay! he fucking blocked me!” 

memories from the night before come back to you as you remember dropping off a crying ruby at her apartment before you went home and passed out. you don’t know what to say to her. they’ve broken up and made up so many times before that you don’t feel any urgency to try to comfort her since they’ll probably be back together before you go to sleep tonight. but he’s never blocked her before. 

“he’s being so ridiculous!” ruby continues, her voice shaking, “i just need my stuff from his place but he’s wont fucking answer me. can you go get it for me, y/n? please.” 

you roll over onto your back to stare at the ceiling. you want to say no. you want to say that she should deal with something by herself for once. but you know that you’re already going to do it for her. just like every other time she’s called you crying about jay. 

“yeah, sure.” 

“thank you, y/n. i don’t know what i’d do without you.” 

“no problem, rubes. i’ll text you when i have your stuff.” 

you hang up, but you don’t get out of bed right away. you love ruby, but sometimes it takes so much effort to do so. you don’t know why or how you’re always stuck in this cycle between her and jay. you’re always the mediator, the shoulder to cry on. just so that the cycle restarts an hour later, like it never ended in the first place. 

you tell yourself that you’re just doing ruby a favour, but you know the favour will never be reciprocated and that it’s not just one favour. it’s like you’ve been doing her favours constantly for years. you want to tell her how you feel, but you don’t do confrontation. and you’re sure ruby will take it as an insult either way. 

so, like usual, you tell yourself that it’s fine and to not think about it. 

you go to jay’s apartment.

you’ve never been inside jay’s apartment building before, only outside of it when you pick up ruby or something. you hesitate before knocking on his door. you can’t tell if the reason you’re nervous is because you’ve never been here before or because you’re going to be alone with jay in his apartment. 

but, you’re here for ruby. and that’s it. 

the apartment door swings open before you can knock again. jay stands there, shirtless with a joint hanging from his lips. he leans against the doorframe with a slow and amuse smile on his face once he sees you. “what’s up, y/n?” his voice is casual, like all the other times he’s spoken to you. his gaze doesn’t leave you as it flickers over your entire body. 

you cross your arms as a reflex, “uh, ruby sent me to get her stuff.” 

his lips twitch like he wants to laugh, “of course she did.” 

it makes you wonder if he’s also realized that you do everything for ruby. if so, how many other people realize this? 

jay steps aside, nodding you in with the joint hanging loosely in his mouth. you step inside as he walks past you. his apartment smells like a mix of his cologne, the one that you helped ruby pick out for his birthday, and weed. his tv has a PAUSED screen on it from his video game. 

you watch as jay starts to move around his apartment, picking up things that belong to ruby that are scattered around. he doesn’t look at you, and you try not to look directly at him for too long. his back muscles flex as he bends over to pick up ruby’s phone charger. you pretend that it doesn’t make your stomach twist. 

“you know, you don’t have to do everything she says, right, y/n?” jay speaks, blowing out a stream of smoke. 

you feel your body tense at his words. “i know. she’s just tired today so.” 

he gives you a look like he knows you’re lying. because even though you and him aren’t extremely close, you both know ruby down to the very detail. 

jay shakes his head, “ruby’s such a fucking child. i can’t deal with her anymore. i’m the always the bad guy, but she’s the one who can’t keep her shit together.” jay’s honesty scares you. your first instinct is to defend ruby, she is your best friend after all. but a second part of you understands what jay is saying. 

“you’re not a bad guy, jay.” you surprise yourself with how quickly the words come out. “you made mistakes, but no one is perfect.” 

you can tell by jay’s expression that he’s also surprised at your response. but he looks away, picking up the last of ruby’s things from the kitchen table. he walks over to you, handing ruby’s handful of things over to you. he’s still shirtless, towering over you. he holds his joint in his index and middle finger. 

“you’re too nice for your own good, y/n.” 

you smile softly at him the best you can, avoiding eye contact with him now that he’s so close to you. you can feel tension growing inside of you, but you don’t know if it’s also growing within him. you are his ex girlfriend’s best friend after all. 

“you’re so different from ruby, ya know?” jay’s voice is deeper, his head tilted to the side with an amused smile on his face. 

“yeah, i know.”  you agree, trying to keep the conversation light. you don’t know where he’s going with this. you’ve never really had a conversation alone with jay before. 

“i like that.” 

your eyes widen at his statement. not expecting it at all. he only laughs at your reaction, stepping closer to you, taking a drag from his joint. his eyes scan you up and down as he exhales, blowing it out at the side of his mouth. 

“uh, thanks,” you manage to get out, your voice sounding like a squeak. it only makes his smile grow further. 

jay leans in even closer to you, making you back up against the front door behind you. you can smell the weed strongly now. he reaches over to the shelf beside you and puts out the rest of his joint in the ashtray. you stand frozen in your place. you’re trying to wrap your head around why your heart is beating so fast now. reminding yourself that this is jay standing in front of you. 

but the way that jay is looking at you right now. like he’s noticing all the small details about your face for the first time in his life, distracts you from anything else. 

“tell me to stop, y/n.” jay says, his voice lower and softer. his chest is almost brushing against yours he’s so close to you. his eyes are darkening and mischievous. his words hang in the air, challenging you to do something. 

it’s a challenge that you fail. 

jay’s lips crash against yours. it’s urgent and rough, like he’s been dying to do this forever. you hesitate for a second, trying to understand how your best friend’s ex is kissing you so harsh and desperate. like he’s starving for you. 

it’s only when jay’s hands cup your jaw, deepening the kiss that you relax and wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders. his body is hard and firm under your touch. it’s new but familiar all at once. it’s something that you’ve thought about more than once. the thought that you’re finally giving in to something that you’ve imagined over and over again throughout the years sends a rush of adrenaline down your core. 

jay’s lips guide yours, taking control, showing complete dominance over you. the wave of submission courses through you as you let his movements lead the way, like you’re chasing after him. 

jay starts to step back, keeping his lips attached to yours as he guides both of you to the couch behind him where you’ve sat with ruby and him before. he sits down, his hands grasping your hips as he pulls you down on top of him so you’re straddling him. 

“we shouldn’t be doing this,” you pull apart for a second, unable to keep your lips off of his for more than a second. 

“i know,” he mumbles back, keeping his eyes closed as he chases for your lips. 

you can’t help but feel like this is so wrong. you should have never gone to your best friends’ boyfriend's apartment. you knew it’d be dangerous, especially when jay is so vulnerable right now and you know you have no self control when it comes to him. 

but at the same time is feels so good to be touching him like this. you have thought about it one million times before, but always with the guilt that he was dating your best friend. now its different, they’re broke up and it’s oblivious that jay wants you just as much as you want him. you don’t have to hide your lust for him behind the mask of being his girlfriend's best friend. it’s like he finally sees you as more than that. you can tell by the way his hands are gripping your waist, guiding your hips to move overtop of his hard cock growing underneath his sweatpants. 

jay’s fingers hook underneath the bottom hem of your shirt, pausing against your skin, making the area burn against the contact. 

“can i?” jay asks, his eyes looking up into yours above him. his eyes are serious, yet pleading for you to say yes.

you blush at the eye contact and manage to nod in approval. trying to ignore how your hands start to shake on his shoulders from nervousness and adrenaline of excitement crashing together. 

jay continues to pull your shirt off your head and drops it on the living room floor. it leaves your chest completely bare to his eyes. he grabs your waist tightly, making it unable for you to move to cover yourself from the shyness that is creeping up your body. you’re unable to hide. his eyes scan your skin quickly like he’s in a hurry to remember every square inch of your body. you bit your lip in unsureness, trying to decipher what he’s thinking as he looks at you. 

he finally speaks, “you’re so fucking pretty, y/n.” 

your lip stuck between your teeth helps cover your growing smile at his compliment. jay has never looked at you or spoken to you like this before. like you’re y/n and not ruby’s best friend. he sees you as your own person. 

everytime you’ve hooked up with someone before, it’s been someone you’ve met through ruby. they’ve always rushed you, barely spoken to you and it always felt like they hooked up with you out of limited choice of other people to hook up with. 

and you can never forget the time you were hooking up with jaehyuk in the year above you and he moaned ruby whilst he came inside of you. the worst part is, he didn’t even realize he had done it. he just pulled out, put his pants back on and high fived you before he left you in the random bedroom at the party. 

since then, you’ve been more aware and weary of what you hook up with, especially the ones you’ve been hooked up with through ruby. you feel like you’re just always seen as since ruby is unavailable, you’re the second best option since you’re her best friend. you always feel like you’re ruby’s shadow, like you’re not your own person with your own feelings and opinions. 

but now, on top of jay, with his eyes on your skin and voice in your ear, it feels different. you feel seen for once. like he wants you and only you. and not because you’re ruby’s best friend, not because you were just there and available. 

jay leans in and kisses your collarbone, his tongue darting across it. his lips suckle against it, leaving a dark red mark that (you hope) will bruise later. he takes his time, his tongue trailing slowly across your chest. he’s teasing you as he gets closer to the sensitive skin along your breasts. he licks right beside your nipple, loving the way you mewl in dissatisfaction from his teasing. you can feel his lips form a smile against your skin. 

when his finally wraps his lips around your pink bud and sucks harshly on it you gasp softly. your hands tighten around his head to keep him close as his own hands tease your spine, gently rubbing up and down the indent. he nibbles on your nipple gently with his teeth. your hips are still circling above his crotch, you can feel him hardening even more at your audible reactions to his movements. 

jay pulls away, his arms wrapping around your waist as he stands up. your wrap your legs around his waist in shock, your eyes wide as you stare down at him. he keeps a cocky grin on his face as he starts to walk to his bedroom with you in the air. 

“just trust me, i got you.” he tells you earnestly, chuckling under his breath as your reaction. 

jay lays you down onto his bed, your head landing in his pillows. you try to ignore the questioning thought of how many times ruby’s head has been in your exact position before. 

jay takes his time with you. slowly kissing down your bare chest and stomach. his hands roaming every part of your body he can reach. when he gets to your jeans he unbuttons them and your panties down your legs. 

you can tell that jay is confident and experienced, a bit cocky. even though you’ve never been together like this before, he still acts like he knows exactly what makes you feel good. like you’ve told him yourself. he doesn’t hesitate with any of his actions, thus his head is in between your legs with no further thought. 

jay’s tongue delves into your pussy, lapping up your juices, wanting to taste you so badly. you can’t help but moan out at the first touch of his tongue. it had been so long since a man has properly tasted your core. you can tell that jay knows exactly what he is doing and it amazes you. you had thought that no one could ever make you feel good with their tongue, that it was something that only seemingly happened in porn. but with jay, it was different. 

your hands grip the sheets underneath you, needing to steady yourself as you prepared for jay’s tongue to start switching between darting in and out of your hole and circling your clit. he keeps his hands on your hips, pinning them down to try to stop you from bucking up into his mouth. you keep your head up on your shoulders, looking down at him as he works his tongue all over your pussy. you moan as he keeps his eyes on you, wanting to catch every single reaction you make to his movements. 

everything he was doing felt new to you. it leaves you uncertain of where this was all going. you’ve never felt this good from someone else before. you’ve never been touched with care. part of it makes you nervous as you don’t know where this is going. like maybe everything will just fall apart in a second. but you don’t want jay to stop. 

jay slips two of his fingers inside of you, immediately curling them to find your gspot. you gasp out, eyes widening as he manages to increase the amount of pleasure you were feeling. “oh god,” you mumble out weakly, your lip getting stuck between your teeth. you feel jay smiles against your wet pussy, your juices and his salvia mixing on your pussy and his lower face. his chin was already a mess from how deep and passionate he was eating you out. 

jay’s fingers create a pace, making sure to curl them perfectly to his your gspot everytime he pushed them back into your tightening walls. both of you knew it wouldn’t take much longer for you to cum. and although you were embarrassed at the realization, jay was even more turned on by it. his hips started grinding more into his mattress below him, trying to relieve himself a bit underneath his usually loose sweatpants, but now were suffocatingly tight. 

“just cum, y/n, please,” jay begs you from his spot between your legs, “i wanna feel you cum on my face so bad,” his eyebrows are pulled together, desperate as he pleads for you to cum, “wanna taste you even more, all of your juices.” 

“f-fuck,” you stutter out, your jaw becoming slack as you allow the pleasure to fully consume you now. jay can tell you’re finally coming undone when your walls spasm around his fingers, your hips buck up to still against his face, letting him suck on your clit harshly through your orgasm. your head is thrown back into his pillow. you feel almost helpless as you lay there, your body frozen as your orgasm hits you hard as hell. you can’t even push jay’s head away when his tongue starts to overstimulate you. 

when he feels like he’s drank every last drop that your pussy would give him, he presses a kiss onto your shaking thigh and pushes himself up so he’s hovering over top of you. he stares down at you, right into your eyes as you try to catch your breath and relax from your orgasm. 

jay doesn’t say anything as he leans down and makes your lips meet his. your eyes close as you kiss him back. you hum at the taste of yourself on his lips. he pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring it as your hands wrap around his shoulders to keep his lips against yours for longer. his kiss feels addicting as you follow his lead, liking how easily he can take control and guide you with your lack of experience. 

jay roughly pushes his lips off of yours, his hand taking a grasp of your jaw, forcing you to stop. you look up at him through your lashes, chest still heaving from the lack of oxygen being provided from your orgasm and his kiss. jay’s thumb brushes against your bottom lip, swiping away some of the saliva you had mixed together. he smirks down at you, obviously catching the submissive glimpse in your eye as you look back at him, “you wanna keep going?” 

breathlessly you answer, “yes,” you nod with his hand still taking your chin captive, “please.” 

jay’s smirk only seems to widen mischievously, “good girl.” 

he takes his hand off of your chin and instead starts to pull off the grey sweatpants he wore oh, so loosely on his dainty hips. his pants are off and thrown on the messy floor of his bedroom in a second, but you don’t look where exactly they are thrown to. you can only stare at jay’s hard cock finally being revealed to your eyes. you mean, ruby has shown you pictures years ago when they had first gotten together, but that didn’t count. jay was now physically in front of you with his cock hard just for you, wanting to be inside of you. the thought had your thighs rubbing together. jay catches the  movement, chuckling deeply as he places a warm hand onto your bare knee and prying your legs back open. 

jay easily, almost perfectly, slides himself in between your legs, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. jay starts to rub his cock up and down your slick, wet folds. he collects all of your juices and his saliva onto his cock., lubricating it to push it deep inside of you. when the red tip of his cock rubs against your clit it has you mewling out from the need and sensitivity. you feel like walls clench around nothing, just the thought of jay finally being inside of you. 

“ready?” jay confirms, his eyes staring right into yours again. you can barely look at him, almost shy again now that his cock was a milimeter away from pushing inside of you, stretching your walls. 

“yes,” your voice is weak and feeble when you answer. you feel embarrassed almost, but you know he doesn’t know why. he probably thinks you’re shy because you’re bare in front of him. he doesn’t know that what is happening right now is a situation where you have thought of multiple times before and now that it’s real, it’s making you blush. you know that he’s probably never thought of you in this position with him before, but you don’t seem to mind as jay finally pushes his cock inside of you. 

jay goes slow, his tip that is dripping with precum slides in first and he stops once it’s fully in. you try to calm your breathing at the stretch of only his tip entering. jay keeps his eyes on you the entire time, his one hand resting on your knee whilst the other stays gripping his cock, pushing it further, in so slowly, so gently. like he’s afraid he’s going to hurt you. it’s the most caring anyone has ever been with you and he’s barely even started. 

within a minute, jay has slowly pushed himself into you. your hips are pressed against each other. your legs are spread so your clit is exposed to his eyes, rubbing against his lower abdomen. jay watches your face the entire time, not wanting to cause you any discomfort, but once he’s fully inside he can’t help but groan out and drops his head into your shoulder. 

“fuck, you feel unreal, y/n,” jay grumbles against your skin, his voice directly into your ear as he lays on top of you. he’s careful to not move his hips in any sudden way. he lets both of you get used to the stretch his cock has on your tight walls. you know you’ll be repeating the way his voice is so raspy and already out of breath as he says your name over and over again after this is done. 

jay presses his lips into the crook of your neck and shoulder before he pushes himself back up onto his elbows, trapping your head in between, forcing you to look up at him. 

he keeps his eyes on you as he slowly pulls himself out of you, keeping just his tip in. you gasp out, your back levitating off of the mattress behind you as his cock seems to glide against every spot inside of you that makes you feel good. when he slides back in, his cock hits your g spot, making you whimper out. 

your chests are pushed together as jay starts to create a pace. he steadily keeps the pace, your legs still wrapping around his waist. you find it hard to look back at him as he’s looking at you. you feel so exposed underneath his gaze. like he can read your mind perfectly. like he’ll realize that maybe this means more to than it does to him. 

because you know that neither of you should be doing this, but you shouldn’t especially. though you and jay are supposed to be loyal to ruby, you have more reasons than jay to not be doing this. because this means nothing to him, and both of you know that. but you know that there is a deep, suppressed feeling in your chest towards jay that you force yourself to not think about. that when you look at jay there’s a certain twinkle in your eye that you’re afraid he’ll see as he lays on top of you, his cock delved deep inside of you. 

jay huffs as he sits up on his knees, his hands moving from above your head to your hips. your legs stay glued to his hips, not wanting him to escape you, as if your legs will keep him there forever. his bangs fall into his face as he stares down at you. 

“tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?” his voice is deeper now, the lust taking over. 

“okay.” 

jay slides his hips away from yours, his cock almost leaving your needy hole before he slams back inside of you. your whole body jerks up towards your bed. your moan mixes with jay’s in his bedroom. both of you were tired of his slow, gentle thrusts that had only turned into teasing the more your walls tightened around him, the more his cock swelled every time it hit your cervix. 

jay’s grip on your waist tightens as he starts to pick up his pace. he’s moving quicker now, slamming his hips against yours every single time. your hands fly above your head, gripping the headboard above your head to prevent you from hitting your head. he’s fucking into you so hard you think your core will be bruised in the morning. but you don’t mind. 

no you don’t mind at all. if it gives you a mark that will let you remember that this is really happening and not some figment of your imagination then you wouldn’t mind. if it’s jay giving you marks on your body that prove he has touched you in a way you could’ve only dreamt of before now then you wouldn’t mind. 

your hands cover your face as you try to hide your moans and expressions. it’s almost diabolical how good jay is making you feel and it hasn’t even been that long that he’s been inside of you. you’re sure jay can tell you’re inexperienced, he’s probably even heard stories about you from ruby. you think he’s been around more than once when you and ruby have even talked about the lack of hookups you’ve had. but right now you don’t want him to think about that. 

suddenly, jay’s warm hand wraps around both of your wrists, pushing them over your head. he pins them to the mattress below, not letting you move them. he traps you there, with your hands over your head and eyes widened as you can look nowhere but at him. 

“don’t do that,” he shakes his head at you, his thrusts still not stopping. “let me see you, please, look at me, baby.” 

the nickname sends an electric shock down your body, making your walls clench tighter around him. you’re sure he can tell by the way his jaw drops as he continues to thrust, his eyes staring right into yours. you want to hide, mask yourself from him, but he makes it so hard. 

“please,” he begs you, his voice desperate and deep.

“o-okay.” 

jay smiles at you, leaning down and kissing you. the kiss is soft and gentle compared to how hard and fast he’s thrusting into you at the same time. you can’t help but moan into his mouth, muffled by his tongue meeting yours and circling it. his taste is becoming familiar to you too, now. 

jay pulls away, sitting back up, leaving your hands as he grabs your waist with both hands again. your hands fly to his forearms, wanting to get as much as his touch as you can. jay doesn’t say anything, just keeps grunting as he thrusts into you. 

unlike any of the other guys you’ve been with, jay keeps his eyes on you. his pleas of looking at him keep your eyes on him. you wanted to please him as much as you can. so even though you’re worried he’ll be able to tell you see more in this situation than he does, you keep your eyes open and on him. 

jay’s fingers land on your clit, rubbing the bud in fast circles, adding to the pleasure that was growing in the pit of your stomach. your grip tenses around his forearms from the pleasure. your back arching off the bed uncontrollably. 

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” jay mumbles as he watches your body fumble around below him. you whine in response out of embarrassment and lust and need all at once. jay laughs through his breathless thrusts, “it’s hot, don’t worry.” 

“you’re hot.” you can’t help but reply. and you blame it on the orgasm that’s quickly building inside of you, because you know that you’re usual self would not dare to speak that, even though you’ve thought it since the first day you had seen him. when ruby had brought him over to introduce you to him in the university cafeteria. his hair was shorter back then and he was less muscular than he is now. but you still found him drool worthy. you remember him sticking his hand out to you, shaking your hand as ruby introduced you to him as her “best friend for life”. but you couldn’t stop staring into his deep brown eyes that were turned into a smile. 

jay chuckles at your statement, it’s something he already knows— and he knows that if it wasn’t for his cock hitting your g spot over and over again, you would have never told him. 

“i wanna cum inside of you,” 

a wave of electric pleasure soars through you, your walls tightening more as your body squirms below him, “please, please.” 

jay’s jaw drops again and his eyes close for a second as he takes in your wet walls enclosing around him, literally suctioning him in, tempting him to cum inside of you right this instance. 

“fuck, okay,” jay nods at you, eyes meeting yours. their colour is darker now compared to when you first met him in freshman year. they’re filled with lust and need as he rubs your clit in faster circles with his three fingers. “i want you to cum with me, you think you can do that?” 

“yes, yes, god.” you nod against the mattress, your hair becoming a mess because of all your squirming. 

if you weren’t so close to cumming on jay park’s cock you would be embarrassed by how fucking needy and desperate you sound. 

jay starts to fuck his dick into your harder and harder. his bedroom is filled with your moans and his grunts and the almost disgusting, wet sound of your bodies meeting together. your entire inner thighs are leaking and drenched and spreading all over his lower abdomen. neither of you can care at this point, loving the mess it takes to get this close to cumming so hard. 

“beg for my cum,” jay grunts out, his voice the deepest you’ve ever heard it. you can tell he’s just as close as reaching his orgasm as you are. 

you swallow harshly, “i want your cum so bad, jay, please.” your eyebrows are pushed together, like a puppy-dog as you look up at him. “please cum in me— i wanna feel your warm cum inside of me so bad.” 

“oh, fuck,” jay’s stomach jerks harshly in and out, his thrusts not stopping as he fucks into you. you can feel his dick start to twitch inside of you. he still keeps his eyes on you, soaking up the lust yours are packed with. 

“fill me up, jay.” your voice is like a whisper, but it’s all it takes for jay to finally hit his high. 

“fuck, fuck, cum with me, baby, please, please,” jay’s voice is anguished as he begs, his cum starting to spurt out of his cock, painting your walls with white. 

jay’s cock twitching over and over again inside of you and his fingers sloppily rubbing your clit push you to the edge. but the pet name that spills from his lips fully pushes you over. your orgasm hitting just a second after jay begs for you to cum. your moans meet his as your eyes stay glued to each other’s. you can see the pleasure take over his entire face as he lets go inside of you. he does what you begged of him and fills you up with his warm cum. your walls pulsating around him as more of your juices slide around his cock make his orgasm last longer, which he isn’t disappointed with. 

when the final spurt of cum and wave of pleasure washes over jay he plops down on top of you, his cock still lodged inside of you. he lays his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder. you can feel his heavy breath against your neck as he comes down from his high. every few seconds you can feel his cock twitch inside of you still, from the left over pleasure that is coursing through not only his veins, but yours as well. 

neither of you try to move, besides jay’s thumb lazily circling your bare hip bone, soothing you from your orgasm. you’re left staring up at his ceiling, chest still panting, smelling jay’s cologne with a mix of sweat and weed. 

there’s a fluttering feeling in your chest that scares you, but you’re too physically tired to do anything about it. that was the hardest you’ve ever come in your life. it had just ended, yet you’re already trying to replay the entire event in your mind. you don’t want to forget a single detail and you aren’t sure— no, you know,this won’t and shouldn’t happen again. 

you remind yourself that this isn’t romantic. this is chaotic and messy and so utterly selfish it should make you sick. but you don’t move, you stay put underneath jay, under your best friend’s ex boyfriend. you don’t want to move. 

when you wake up in the morning you don’t know where you are for a second. you look around the room, trying to figure out why your bedroom looks so weird. it’s only when your foot hits something next to you that you remember where you are. 

your eyes scan beside you, the white sheet draped over jay’s still naked body as his eyes are closed with his head against the pillow right beside yours. his black bangs are hanging over his forehead, covering the tanned skin that sweat droplets fell from only a few hours before. 

when you laid down last night it was dark out, but now there is clearly sun peeking through jay’s white curtains. you reach over to the nightstand, grabbing your phone and audibly gasping when you see the time. 

fuck. 

you had class in an hour and still had to bring ruby her bag of shit she wanted from jay. the whole reason you even came to his apartment was for your best friend. and now you’re leaving with more reasons to stay away from jay than you had come here with. 

you throw the sheet off your body, your eyes widening when you see that you’re still naked as well. you stand up, trying to remember where your clothes had been. you pick up pieces of clothing from his bedroom floor all the way to the living room, where the PAUSED screen of his video game is still flickering on the tv. you pull back on your shirt and skirt, trying to find where jay had put your shoes. 

“leaving already?” 

you gasp as you turn around, facing his bedroom door where jay leans against the door frame. he has his grey sweatpants back on again, still loose around his hips. you gulp when you remember what is right below them, and how you’ve felt him inside of you, all over you. the memories from last night slamming you at full force now that he stands directly in front of you. your mind starts spiraling as jay just lights a joint in front of you. when he exhales, your eye contact breaks through the grey smoke. 

“um,” you shake your head, trying to get yourself to focus on anything but his toned muscles, “do you know where my shoes are?” 

with the joint in his mouth, jay’s eyes widen in recognition and nods towards the couch, “under the coffee table.” 

you follow and pull out your sneakers, fumbling to slip them on your feet with urgency. you suddenly wanted to leave just as quickly as you wanted to the night before… before jay had persuaded you to stay. saying nothing, you grab the bag of ruby’s stuff and head to the door. 

“y/n,” he calls your name when your hand grips the doorknob. you don’t let go of it as you look over your shoulder at him. he’s still in his place at the bedroom door. he shrugs when he speaks, “don’t overthink it.” 

you stare at each other, and to anyone else it would seem expressionless, meaningless, but you both know what you’re thinking as you look into each other’s eyes: don’t tell ruby.

you pull open his apartment door and slam it behind you, like that would stop anything from following you out.

ruby doesn’t question you much on why you hadn’t answered her texts the night before, which you were relieved for. she was more concerned with what jay had said to you when you showed up and asked for her stuff. if he had told you he missed her, if he was crying, if it smelt like a perfume in his apartment that wasn’t hers. you hoped she hadn’t picked up on your nervous tapping on your desk when she asked the last question. 

when ruby had finally run out of questions about jay she sat back in her seat, pouting as she crossed her arms over her chest. although she had told you she had spent the entire night crying about jay, she looked like she had slept a peaceful nine hours. her makeup and hair looked pristine as always. you, on the other hand, looked like you had been through a trainwreck. your hair felt like it was a knotted mess and you were still wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday. you would so kill for a coffee right now. 

“so, what were you up to last night?” lena looks over at you from her slouched position. the classroom had started to fill with other students, the professor yet to show up. 

you can’t help but basically give yourself whiplash as you turn your head to look at your best friend. your arms instinctively wrap around your body, like you can hide behind them. “um, not much. why?” 

ruby tilts her head at you to be honest, her nose wrinkling upwards, “because it looks like you haven’t showered in a week.” 

your mouth opens to speak, to say literally anything to explain to her about why you look like this. to say any words except for jay. but unfortunately, that’s the only word running circles in your head since an hour ago when you woke up naked beside him in his bed. 

ruby sighs, “please don’t tell me you spent all night on that anthropology paper! i told you to chill out about it, it’s not due for another month!” 

ease washes over you, too much for your liking. you don’t like feeling like this infront of ruby. she was supposed to be your best friend and now it’s like you have to watch everything you say to not let it slip what mistake you had made the night before. 

you sheepishly smile at her, “maybe.” 

ruby rolls her eyes, sitting up now with a playful smile on her lips. “you work too hard.” she shakes her head, “at least put the rat nest of a hair up.” she slips off a scrunchie she had on her wrist, handing it to you. you keep that guilty, sheepish smile on your face as you take it, reaching up to put your hair into a ponytail. 

“oh my god!”

your hands drop to your side at once, “what?” 

“what’s that on your neck?” ruby reaches over and bends your neck so she can see better in the dim classroom lighting, “is that a fucking hickey?” 

your hands fly up to cover the general area she was looking at, brushing her hands off of you. “what? no!” 

ruby’s jaw drops as she looks at you, her eyebrows pulled together in shock, “y/n, that’s a fucking hickey you liar!” 

you stare at your best friend, eyes circling her face as you try to read her expression, trying to think of anything it can be besides a hickey. your hands start to sweat, you can feel it against your neck where they try to hide the bruise that jay had apparently left the night before. you knew you should’ve looked in the mirror before coming straight to school. you thought it would’ve been suspicious to ruby if you were late to class for once. you now realize that this was much worse. 

you feel paralyzed as you stare at ruby, not knowing what to do or say in this situation. you had only hooked up with jay less than twelve hours ago and ruby had already figured it out. you were so fucked, oh my god your friendship is so completely ruin—

“you have a secret crush,” ruby’s face contorts into amusement, her shoulder coming to nudge you, “oh my god, he had you up all night didn’t he?” 

your arms wrap harder around yourself, trying to get yourself to calm down. another crisis adverted. 

“ruby,” you shake your head, turning away from her to sit forward and face the front. your professor had finally come to class, apologizing for being so late today. something about traffic but you couldn’t hear properly with your heartbeat pounding in your ears and ruby leaning over the desk to stare right at you. 

“who is it? come on, tell me! please!” 

“it’s no one ruby, it’s done. it won’t happen again.” you tell her, and it's the full truth you’ve told her all morning. 

ruby doesn’t like your answer, pouting and slouching back into her seat as she stares straight ahead at the professor setting up the powerpoint for the lecture today. the lights turn off in the classroom, the only light being the projector. 

“it’s fine i guess,” ruby mumbles, quieter now as the professor begins to introduce the topic for the day. “at least i don’t have to find people to hook up with you, now that you can do it on your own.” 

you glance over at ruby, her face is expressionless as she stares straight ahead. when she meets your gaze a smile spreads on her face which you mirror and then turn to focus on opening your notebook. 

ruby’s words sit with you for the rest of the day. like it had been some awful burden to her to find someone to hook up with you. like you had begged her to do. like it was so hard to find some desperate guy to hook up with poor y/n. even though you know it's wrong, you can’t help but picture ruby’s face if she found out what had really happened last night.

ruby and jay’s “disagreements” (what ruby calls their fights) usually only last a few days before their tongues are down each other’s throats again and you’re struggling to get a second of ruby’s attention. but this time, it’s been a week since jay had stormed out of the party and given ruby all her shit back. 

if you hadn’t hooked up with jay a week ago, you wouldn’t be so worried. you know ruby is slowly transcending into an emotional hurricane by the second. one minute she’s laughing saying she’s a ���free woman” and then the next she’s crying on your lap asking you what she had done wrong. 

the worst part is that you think ruby is picking up on your anxiety. she keeps looking at you with her pleading eyes to tell her the “truth”— that jay will call her back and he’s just being petty right now, but you can tell she sees right through your reassurance. 

ruby was always such an emotional chaotic mess that she needed your stability. you needed to hold her still. and you didn’t mind doing it, but now that that stability is wary it’s only creating an even worse feeling for the both of you.  

you don’t like lying to your best friend, but you can’t help but feel like the moment you had with jay the week before was the first and only time someone had seen you for yourself. like you didn’t need to be with ruby in order for someone to even briefly glance at you. like you had a voice of your own. 

it made you question your entire decade long friendship with ruby more than you ever had in your life. it scared you but the feeling in your chest like you were hiding something grew bigger every day, and it wasn’t just because you were hiding the fact that you hooked up with jay. it was because you felt like you were hiding a part of yourself from everyone. a part of yourself that you felt like you consciously suppressed in order to let ruby shine. 

but the thing was, you realize now that you wanted to shine too. 

today was monday, which meant that ruby, the only one in your friendship that had a car, had cheerleading practice. it usually wasn’t a problem for you, even though you would have to constantly hear about how sore her legs were afterwards. but today, it was raining as soon as you stepped foot outside your university’s doors. the pavement was already a dark grey from how long and hard it had been raining. 

you have no other option but to put your headphones on and start walking home since your other, more dry option was at cheerleading practice for another hour and a half. 

it didn’t take long for your hair to become drenched and stick to your face. you could feel your socks becoming little puddles in your shoes with every step and you hadn’t even properly made it off of school property. 

car headlights turn the corner behind you and when you glance over you see a familiar black bmw pull up the curb beside you. it felt like a punch in the chest when the window rolled down to reveal the face that you had thought about every single day this past week. his eyebrows were furrowed in concern as he shouts at you, “what are you doing?” 

it takes a second for you to realize that you’re not dreaming, that jay is actually in front of you, “walking.” you sound dumb, like you have never spoken to someone before in your entire life. 

you see him roll his eyes through the harsh rain, “get in.” 

your body starts to walk before your mind is aware, almost drawn to him subconsciously, or you just really wanted to get out of the rain. 

you hop in the passenger seat of the car that you’ve been in before. jay has picked you and ruby up to go to a party or some other thing multiple times before. but you had always sat in the back, watching him and your best friend either hold hands over the centre console or fight until they're both red in the face as you pull up to the destination. it was like you were in ruby’s territory— again.

now that it was just you and jay in the car, it was definitely the most quiet it’s been in here with him. 

jay’s dry laugh distracts you from the silent comparing, “you’re fucking drenched.” he reaches over to blast the heat, turning all the vents towards you. “do you want to get pneumonia or?” 

“no, of course not. ruby’s just at cheer so, i didn’t really have a choice.” you explain yourself, but you catch the way jay’s whole body tenses at the mention of your best friends’ name. jay turns his eyes to face the road again and his amused smirk drops from his face. 

“so, you going home?” 

“yeah,” you nod and jay takes his foot off the break, pulling away from the curb in the pouring rain. the windshield wipers are working at a fast pace and the heat blasting is working overtime to keep you from catching a cold. you can still feel droplets of rain falling from the strands of your hair onto your hands. 

the sound of the rain relentlessly hitting the car and the heater blasting is enough to make it less awkward than it should be in the car with him. you feel almost pathetic. you had thought about him all week— all the things you wished you could’ve said to him the last time you had seen him. but now, that you’re actually with him in his car— alone, you’re silent. all you can think about really is how loud and fast your heartbeat is going. you hope he doesn’t hear it. 

you hope that he just assumes that you’re sick, like the rain had actually gotten to you and has given you a cardiac emergency and that’s why your chest feels like it’s about to explode. that the feeling is definitely from that and not the fact that he’s so close to you right now.  

“why haven’t you texted ruby, yet?” you speak before you can stop yourself. 

jay scoffs, “i have nothing to say to her,” he turns his head to look at you, his eyes serious and steady, “and i don’t want to talk about her. especially not when i’m with you.” 

your head snaps to look out the passenger side window, like the rain droplets covering the entire window have somehow become more interesting to look at than jay. you hope it hides the fact that your eyes widened almost cartoon-like at his words. what does he mean by that? though, you do agree with him. you don’t want to talk about your best friend when you’re with him. it feels wrong but so good at the same time. you want to stay here just a bit longer to figure out what is the right thing here— the good thing. 

in your peripheral vision you can see jay glance over you once, and then twice before he speaks, “you know,” he starts in his usual confident tone, the one that you wish you had, “you don’t have to do all that, good girl, shit with me.” he says “good girl” like it tastes bad in his mouth to say. like he’s repulsed. 

you look at him, keeping your face expressionless as some defense mechanism. 

“you don’t have to pretend, just be you.” 

“what?” 

jay narrows his eyes, “you know what i’m talking about, y/n.” 

it’s your turn to go stiff. is it really that obvious how you feel? then why is jay the only person to ever be able to really tell what you’re feeling? without even saying anything he knows what you’re thinking. he sees right through you. it scares you to be honest. how long has he been able to do this? 

“you make it sound like it’s so easy,” you place your palms flat against your soaking wet jeans, trying to distract yourself— letting the sweat that piled up in them soak into the rain stained fabric. 

jay cocks his head, confusion obvious on his face, “because it is?” his voice comes out slow, like he’s trying to process your words still, trying to understand you. you keep your gaze fixated on the window beside you. your lack of response makes him scoff. “you don’t have to pretend with me, y/n.” 

you hate that everytime he says your name a shock spirals down your spine. you wish that you could so easily not pretend with him. like you could rip off that mask you put on when you’re around everyone else— the mask that you weren’t even properly aware of until recently. yet, jay seems like he’s known of that mask forever. he knows that you’ve been shrinking yourself to fit into ruby’s shadow. but he must understand that it’s hard when you’ve spent your entire life doing that— being the calm and reasonable one to the girl that’s known as a chaotic, out of control mess that’s always the centre of attention. you swallow harshly at the thought of being unmasked around jay— like maybe he won’t even like you as much as he thinks he does. 

before you can mentally spiral more, jay is pulling up the curb outside of your apartment building. part of you is relieved to get out of this car where you feel so exposed, but the other part is wishing you’d do what jay is telling you to— to be yourself, to stay in this car longer like you really want to. 

you glance at jay briefly before your fingers wrap around the car door handle, ready to push it open and jump out. 

“why do you always look at me like you’re trying to not want me?” 

jay’s voice stops you, your body frozen as you face away from him, completely turned to the passenger side door to get out of here. but his words hit you like a truck— because it’s true and no one has actually voiced a thought you had thought about so many times before. you take a deep breath and turn your head over your shoulder to face him, still trying to keep your face expressionless, as if that’s gonna deter him in any way. 

jay’s hand lands on top of yours that’s resting on the centre console, like his hand is going to keep you there for longer. “if you want me y/n, then say it. show me who you are, what you really want.” 

your heart literally feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. you want to say it so bad— that you do want him, and that you’ve wanted him for a while, even if that makes you a terrible friend. your fingers twitch under his hand, thinking about what you should do. what would you really do in this situation? 

fuck it. 

before you can mentally talk yourself out of it and hide in the shell that you’ve created for yourself, you lean over the centre console and push your lips onto jay’s. he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. his lips latch onto yours and pull you closer to him. your hand drops from the car handle, turning your entire body to him. jay doesn’t think twice about slipping his hands under your sweater, cupping your breasts. he doesn’t mind that your skin is cold and wet against him. you’re body is chasing his to get warm and to feel like you’re understood and seen, if only for a few minutes. 

“take off your pants,” jay speaks against your lips, pulling away for a second to look at you before he smashes his lips back onto yours. “now.” 

you kiss him more time before you practically force yourself to stop. your hands shake with anticipation as you unbutton your rain-soaked pants and slide them off your legs onto the car floor. jay helps you take off your heavy and wet sweater, tossing it on the floor with your pants into one soggy pile that neither of you can care about right now. 

“want your lips on my cock,” jay confesses, almost desperate as his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, already swollen from kissing him. 

without thinking twice, your hands reach down to his jeans, unbuttoning them quickly. you hear him chuckle dryly as he watches your hands move swiftly, wanting to free his cock just as much as he wanted you to. 

you pull his warm cock out of his pants, the veins starting to protrude as his cock hardens. 

“spit on it,” he tells you, pushing your head down over his cock. you do as he says, pursing your lips to let a glob of spit land right onto his cock. he hisses at the feeling of it. jay wraps his hand around his cock, keeping his eyes on you as he starts to jerk it, using your spit and half naked body to get him hard enough for you to take him into your mouth. 

you get on your knees on the passenger seat to lean over jay’s lap to be able to fully get his cock stuffed into your mouth. jay glances around outside once to make sure no one’s around, but it’s dark out and it’s pouring rain and his tinted windows are enough for people to not see much of anything with this weather. 

you lean down and slide his cock into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat, causing jay to groan out at once as he stares down at where his cock disappears. you wrap your hand around the base of his cock that doesn’t fit into your mouth, making your hand work in sync with your mouth as you start to bob up and down. 

“fuck, that’s it.” jay groans above you. he grabs a handful of your hair in his hand, making a makeshift ponytail for you and him so he can get a better view of you. the car is filled with the faint sound of the heat running and slurping from your mouth working his cock in and out of your mouth. 

your lips suckle on his tip, making his hips buck up from the seat below him. you keep your eyes closed as you focus on making him feel good. you hollow your cheeks, letting the soft, inner skin of them massage around his cock as you shove the tip further and further into the back of your throat. 

“that’s good, oh god,” jay groans out above you. he brings his fingers to mouth, spitting on them before he reaches over behind you and pushes your panties to the side, wetting your pussy with his spit before he shoves two of his fingers inside you. you whimper around his cock at the sensation, making him buck up into your mouth again, wanting more of you. 

jay’s fingers start to slowly push in and out of your pussy, warming you up for his cock that he plans on stuffing you with soon. yet he doesn’t want to distract you from your mouth work on his cock. 

you keep bobbing your head up and down his cock, your spit covering his entire cock and dribbling down onto his balls. you’ve successfully gotten him hard and needy with every vein in his cock protruding. the top of his cock red and slick with not only your spit, but his pre cum that tastes like salt but sweet on your tongue. 

“fuck okay, get in the back.” jay pulls your head up off of his cock, letting go of your makeshift ponytail. you start to climb into the back seat, laughing when jay smacks your ass. jay crawls after you, sitting down on the seat and he pulls his jeans and boxers off of his legs before he pulls you over top of him to straddle him. your knees are on either side of his lap, resting on the leather seats of his bmw. 

you sit up on your knees, letting jay align his cock with your pussy, pushing your panties to the side again to make room. jay teases your weeping pussy with the head of his cock, gathering more of your juices to slide right in. he holds onto your waist as you slide yourself down onto his cock— both of you groaning out into the car as his cock reaches your cervix. your eyes roll to the back of your head as you take his cock at this angle. 

you move your hair out of your face before you lean over jay’s chest, keeping your head above his as you start to rock your hips back and forth. jay keeps his hands on your ass, squeezing the skin there as he helps you set a pace. 

“this good?” he asks you, wanting to make sure you were okay with this position. 

“god, yes,” 

jay smirks before he starts to lift you up over his cock before moving your hips back down, taking his cock fully back inside of you. he’s completely dominating, controlling when and how your hips move over his cock. like he’s using your pussy to get off. 

your hands land on the top of the car seat behind jay’s hand, holding yourself up so let jay use your pussy to make both of you feel good. he starts shoving you down his cock harder, the skin where your pussy and cock meet slapping and filling the car. your moans start to pick up the faster and harder he drops your hips back down over his cock. the tip of his cock jabbing your g spot every time from this angle. 

“fuck, wait,” jay gasps out as he keeps you still over his cock, holding your waist as he moves to lay sideways across the back car seats, using the door to keep him upright. you move to keep your feet against the seats now to hold you up instead of your bent knees. you’re hovering over him with his cock still lodged deep inside of you. “there, you have more room now.” 

you smile down at him sweetly before kissing him, your lips brushing against each other hungrily. jay keeps alternating his hands from your waist and ass, gripping your skin roughly. you start using the seat below your feet to help bounce yourself up and down on his cock. 

“oh god,” you moan out, your hand landing on the cool window by jay’s head. you find it hard to keep your lips off of jay’s. both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you fuck yourself down onto his cock. 

your clit is rubbing against his lower abdomen every time you bounce and it only edges you on further, despite the burning feeling in your knees already. 

“fuck, that’s it,” jay encourages you, keeping his eyes locked onto you as he watches you bounce on his cock. his hand lands hard on your ass, making you squeal as you keep riding him. “show me how bad you can be, baby.” you moan out at his words, the burning in your stomach growing as you want to prove to him that you’re more than just a good girl— that you’re more than what ruby portrays you as. 

with the fuel that’s being added, you push back away from jay, your body and elbows landing onto the centre console behind you. your legs are wrapped around jay’s waist as he still sits on the backseat, but your body is laying back, using the centre console as a platform to hold your back up. 

jay groans as he grabs your waist, your pussy out on display for him now that your knees are bent and wrapped around his waist. he can see your folds glistening and wet and suctioning his cock in. your clit is enlarged and throbbing, just begging for him to do something about it. 

you push your shirt up so your breasts are revealed, your nipples perked and hard from the cold rain. jay doesn’t waste a second and reaches out, grabbing a hold of them. “fuck, i love your tits.” his voice is husky now as he stares right at them, massaging them in his hands, “most perfect tits i’ve ever seen.” you moan out, your hips rolling over his cock, wanting him to move. he smirks at your desperation, but does what you want. he starts to fuck his cock into you now having the perfect view of your pussy, tits and face. 

“oh god, that feels so good,” you groan out, your eyes rolling as his cock fills you up again and again. jay’s eyes can’t stay in one place for long, scanning all over your body as his hips slide back and forth. you’re on display for him in the backseat of his car where you’re his complete centre of attention. 

jay spits on his fingers again before he smears it on your clit, wetting it more so his thumb can rub perfect circles over it. “fuck!” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as jay increases the pleasure you’re feeling. 

“yeah, baby? you like this?” jay nods at you, “like being fucked in my car? where anyone walking past can see you.” 

“mm, yeah, i love it.” 

jay smirks down at you, “yeah? you want people to see you spread out for me, showing me your wet fucking pussy?”

“y-yes, god it’s so wet, jay.” 

“fuck, baby i know, i know,” jay grits his teeth as he focuses on the feeling of your wet walls squeezing around him, letting his cock fuck up into them, stretching them out. “only sluts get this wet at the thought of people seeing them. is that what you are? a slut?”

jay’s cock is fucking so far into you, his ass is above the seat so he can get his full cock into you every single time he thrusts forward. he keeps one hand on your nipple, squeezing and tweaking it whilst his other hand rubs circles into your clit. he’s working your entire body as your pussy fucking sucks him in, massaging his cock and milking him, just begging for him to cum. 

when you don’t answer his hand on your nipple smacks your face, making you look up at him, making eye contact with him. his and your eyes match— they’re both filled with lust and need and desperation. “answer me— are.” jay fucks hard into you with every word, “you. a fucking. slut?” 

“yes!” you cry out, “oh god yes! i’m a slut— just for you, i’m your fucking slut.” your elbows on the centre console drop as you lean your back and head back so your head is basically in the front seat again. your hands grab your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples so hard for the pleasure to shoot down your body. 

“oh fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” jay grunts out, his hands grabbing your waist, fucking into you harder and harder as he watches your hands play with yourself as your head stays thrown back on the centre console, completely consumed in the pleasure. 

jay leans over and spits directly onto your pussy, making you moan out at how easy his cock slips inside of you now mixed with his warm spit. your legs are completely spread for him, your one foot on the door whilst the other one is spread across the back seat. you look and feel like such a whore for him, just for him. 

he reaches over your body, your hands interlocking over your breast as your and his hands squeeze it together. it’s a sense of intimacy as you hold hands whilst he pounds into you. it only fuels the desire you have for him— to prove to him that you aren’t some good girl that might break. 

jay’s car is filled with both of your moans, feeding off of the pleasure you’re both giving each other. “fuck you’re pussy is so tight,” jay groans out, like it’s truly unbelievable how tight your pussy is wrapping around him. like it’s enticing him to fuck you hard and faster until you’re screaming out for him. 

“choke me,” you moan out, voice desperate and airy as you look up at him. 

jay does what you ask of him, his hand wrapping around your neck tightly, blocking your airway from breathing correctly. “like this, slut? you like it like this?” 

“y-yes,” you manage to moan out, your eyes locked with his as his hand is wrapped around your neck. 

jay groans out at the sight before him, “god you’re so hot,” 

you smile at him through the pleasure and the lack of air reaching your brain. you can only focus on jay right now. the way he’s panting and moaning as he fucks into you. the sweat that’s dripping around his head as the car gets warmer and warmer with both of your heavy breathing plus the heat is still on from when you first got into his car. the windows around you are fogged up, you can barely see outside of them. the air is filled with the smell of sweat and sex and jay’s cologne. 

“fuck, c’mere,” jay lets go of your neck and instead pulls you up against him by wrapping his hands around your back. he sits up against the back of the seat and wraps you around his lap so you’re straddling him again. your hands grab onto the head rest behind him as he presses you chest to chest with him. 

you whine when you feel his shirt’s fabric against your half naked chest, “take this off.” your hands pull on the bottom hem of his shirt. jay snickers under his breath but does what you want, pulling the shirt off of himself, leaving him completely naked underneath you. 

you don’t stop yourself from dragging your hands down his bare chest, warm and firm under your touch. you think back to all the times you had seen him shirtless, walking around ruby’s apartment or all the times you went to the beach together. how every time you saw him you wanted to rub your fingers over his skin, familiarize yourself with all his moles and textures. and now that you’re actually able to, you don’t know how you can ever not touch him. 

jay grips your wrists suddenly, pulling them back behind him so your arms wrapped around his neck and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug as he shifts his hips underneath you slightly, causing his cock to brush against your gspot again. before you can complain that he’s been still for too long, he starts to pull out of you just to pump back into you over and over again. he sets a steady pace, pushing his hips up from the seat so he can fuck up into you. 

your arms stay interlocked with one another around his neck, your forehead leaning onto his as he fucks you. you keep your eyes on his as he stares up at you. his usual light brown eyes are dark and slanted as he grimaces from the pleasure. 

jay keeps you tight against him, chest to chest, as he fucks you hard. you’re forced to stay still and take it. his bmw is filled with the sounds of your moans and skin slapping roughly. everytime he groans underneath you your pussy clamps harder around his cock, encouraging him to keep going. and jay doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. 

jay’s not an idiot. he’s been aware that you’re hot, but he’s been aware that you’re ruby’s best friend. which strictly meant off limits in the dating world. but now that he’s pretty much done with ruby right now and you’re more than ready to take his cock, he doesn’t care about rules. the way your pussy grips his cock is enough for him to not stop. 

jay unlocks you from his trapped hug, letting you have space between your bodies. he doesn’t waste a second before he’s leaning forward to wrap his lips around your breasts. he sucks on them and bites them, coating them in his saliva that leaves your skin cold from the air when he pulls away. 

“c’mon, keep going,” jay slaps your ass, “bounce on my cock like the whore you are.” 

you moan out in response but brace yourself on your knees as you start to bounce up and down on his cock. it feels so good and the pleasure has been boiling in your body and your need and lust for jay has been suppressed for so long that you start bouncing feverishly. you’ve wanted jay for so long, and you know it’s wrong but now that you’ve had him not only once, but twice… you don’t know how once this is over you will be able to stop yourself from going back for thirds. 

because jay obviously makes you feel physically good— his cock hits all the right spots inside you, his fingers rub circles on your clit that have you mewling out and his complete attention on you when you fuck has you spiraling. but jay also makes you feel seen. and that’s something that you’ve always wanted. being with jay feels different from being with anyone you’ve ever met. and that’s dangerous. 

you put both of your hands on his shoulders for leverage as you start to ride his cock faster. he keeps his hands on your waist to help hold you steady, his eyes are entrained on you as he watches you work your way up and down his cock. your hair is becoming a mess as you fuck yourself faster and faster on his cock. your jaw stays agape as you feel his cock slide in and out of you, your juices and his saliva making your core a complete mess. 

“shit,” jay moans out, his eyes looking down at where your bodies connect, watching you bounce on him so desperately. he knows you want him to feel good, that you’ll do anything for him to cum, and it only makes the knot in his stomach tighten more. “that’s it baby, ride me like that. ride your best friend’s ex until you cum.” 

“oh god,” your grip on his shoulders tightens at his mention of ruby. the guilt and shame you feel only add to the pleasure as you glide your pussy up and down his cock over and over again. there’s sweat dripping down your forehead in the cramped backseat of his car. 

jay’s hand meets your face, slapping you so you look at him. he grips your jaw, keeping your head still as his fingers sink into your cheek’s flesh that he just smacked, “you think people would still think you’re an innocent good girl if they saw you right now, hm?” jay’s voice is dark and husky when he speaks. “the way you’re so desperate to bounce on my cock?” 

“n-no,” you whine out, your hair half fallen into your face, sticking to your forehead from your sweat. 

“and why not?” 

“b-because i’m a slut.” 

jay’s hand slaps your face one more time, “that’s right, you’re a fucking slut.” 

before you can fully comprehend it, jay is pushing you off of his lap, his cock sliding out of you. he pushes you down onto the seat next to him, your face and chest flush on to the seat. he moves so he’s kneeling behind you, pulling your hips up in the air so your pussy and ass are on complete display for him. your ass is pink from his hands slapping and gripping the flesh. your pussy is stretched and agape as it tries to clamp down around nothing. 

“ah fuck, look at this pussy,” jay groans out as he reaches his fingers down to the flesh. you jolt as he touches your swollen and red lips, covered in your juices in a complete mess. “it’s so swollen, so needy and pathetic.” 

“mhm,” you nod your head against the leather seat as you look back over your shoulder at him. 

jay glances at your face, pulling his lips into a smirk, “yeah? you’re pathetic and needy for me? for my cock?” 

“yes, jay,” you’re quick to agree with him, because it’s true. “i need you so bad, please.” you wiggle your hips back, trying to get him to put his cock back inside of you. 

you hear him curse under his breath one more time before both of his hands come down onto your ass, making you jolt forward with a cry as he spanks you again. the pain only adds to the pleasure you feel in the pit of your stomach. 

before you can complain and beg for his cock again, jay forces his cock back into your hole. you’re so wet that it slides in so, so easily. he’s stretched you out perfectly. like his cock fits exactly in your pussy. 

jay grabs your waist from behind, holding you still as he starts to ram his cock in and out of you from behind. you put one of your hands on the car door above your head so you don’t hit your head. a cry escapes your lips as his cock starts to hit your gspot from a new angle. it feels even better somehow. 

everytime he slides his hard cock back into you his soaked balls slap against your clit. the noise your bodies make every time they meet is so ludicrous, straight out of a porno.��

“is this what you wanted, baby? for me to fuck you like the real slut you are?” jay asks from behind you, his voice rough as he demands an answer from you.

“f-fuck yes!” you cry back, your eyes straining to remain open as he fucks you harder and harder, your body jolting forward everytime his hips meet yours. 

“say it then,” jay’s hand hits your already red ass cheek again, “say you want to be fucked like a slut.” 

“i- i want to be fucked like a slut, like y-your slut.”

you hear jay groan at your words, his pace picking up speed as he drills his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. both of you can feel your warm walls start to become sporadic around his cock. your desperation for him showing as your pussy sucks him back in everytime he fucks back into you. it’s getting harder and harder for jay to even pull back out from how tight and warm and wet your walls are around him. it’s like truly heaven for him. 

“fuck, you’re such a whore for me,” jay groans out, “the way your pussy is fucking dripping, so fucking messy.” 

you can only moan harder in response, your lungs filling with pleasure as he fucks into you at just the perfect pace and intensity. it’s all you ever wanted from him. you can’t remember all of the times you’ve thought about him fucking you like this, rough and needy and risky. there’s so much on the line right now, if anyone walked too close to his car right now, if ruby somehow found out. the risk only makes your pussy burn more for his cock. 

you can’t take it much longer anymore and you slip your hand in between your body and the car seat, your fingers landing on your swollen, wet clit and start rubbing circles on it, bringing yourself closer to the edge. you hear jay chuckle darkly behind you as he keeps up his drilling pace. he reaches over your back, his hand cupping the back of your neck so it’s pinned against the car seat below you, trapping your head from moving and decreasing the amount of oxygen to your brain once again. your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure taking over your body everywhere with jay’s scent surrounding you. 

“yeah, that’s it,” jay’s voice is breathless by your ear as he hovers over your back, his chest pressed into you, “make yourself cum on my cock, baby, please,”

jay’s plead for you to cum sends you spiraling and it only takes a few more thrusts of his cock to send you over the edge, finally. you feel like you’ve been holding back your orgasm since he first slid his cock into you. that’s how much power he has over you. just a simple touch from jay can send one million shocks of pleasure through you at a time. 

your body felt like it was on fire as the orgasm ripped through you. your scream fills the car and you hope no one is walking out in the rain beside the car right now. your pussy clamps down tight around jay’s cock as you cum, getting wetter as your juices drip around his cock delved deep inside of you. 

“fuck, baby that’s it.” jay groans out as he feels your pussy around his sensitive cock. your pussy feels like velvet to him and he doesn’t know much longer he can last. 

with your body still shaking from adrenaline and pleasure, jay rips his cock out of you. your body is weak and limp and he rolls you over so you’re on your back and facing him. 

“please let me cum on your face, please baby,” jay’s eyes are pleading as his hand starts to stroke his cock fast, his cock soaked in your juices. 

“please,” you whimper out, mind still hazy but you sit up your elbows to watch him, “please cum jay, i want to taste your cum so bad.” your eyebrows are furrowed together as you look up at him. “make a mess of my face, please.” 

your begging for his cum is enough for him as he lets out a loud grunt before strings of warm, white cum come out of his red tip and land all over your face. there are strands by your lips, your cheek and one singular one on your forehead. you moan out at the feeling of his warm cum on your face. like he’s marked his territory on you. 

jay’s hand slows down it’s movements on his cock as no more cum comes out, his whole chest is heaving from his high. 

“oh fuck,” he grunts out. his body is weak but he leans down and presses his lips onto yours harshly for a quick second before pulling back to look at the mess he made on your face. “you look so hot.” 

you can’t help but giggle at his compliment. you feel wet and sticky and sore everywhere, but the way jay is looking at you keeps you awake and alert. no one has ever looked at you the way jay is looking at you right now. like you’re the centre of the universe to him. 

jay reaches out and swipes each strand of his cum off of your dewy skin before he tells you to “open”. he shoves his fingers of cum into your mouth. you wrap your lips around his fingers as you moan at the taste of his salty cum filling your mouth. your tongue circles his fingers, wanting to get every last drop of cum off of his fingers. 

when you’re done he takes them out of your mouth, keeping a soft smile on his lips before he leans back down over you, kissing you again. he moans into the kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. you let his tongue explore your mouth for a while even though your knees and ass cheeks are sore. if it means that you’ll be close to jay for longer than you don’t care about the pain. 

jay reaches to the floor of his car and picks up his shirt to wipe down your legs and core. you laugh when he wipes your face off of any remaining cum. it feels intimate and normal to laugh with each other whilst naked. 

jay fumbles around for an extra sweater he can put on and slips his jeans back on before he gives you your own clothes. he opens the backdoor and steps out into the rain for a second when you start fixing your shirt and pulling your jeans back on just to get in the driver's seat again. jay reaches over the centre console to pick up your bag and wet clothes before he tosses them to you in the back seat. 

“you good?” jay turns to the back to look at you, he has a light, amused look on his face. 

“yeah, i’m good.” you respond softly, pushing your messy hair behind your ear. 

jay smiles at you, “you should go, before someone sees.” 

his words make your fake world shatter as reality sets back in. that this isn’t the fantasy land where you’re dating jay and aren’t some little good girl that does everything ruby says. that everything that just happened in this car is just between you and jay. a secret. 

“okay,” you can’t help how weak your voice goes, physically drained from the sex but emotionally hurt. 

“i’ll text you,” jay nods, like he’s promising that he won’t forget you, and that there’ll be more. 

you repeat your soft okay, pulling your bag over your shoulder as you step out of the backseat and out into the rain that hasn’t calmed down since he parked. you close the car door gently, like you’re scared any loud movements would pull you out of your fantasyland even sooner. 

you lightly jog up to your building’s door, the rain cold on your arms. jay doesn’t wait for you to get inside, his car is already turning onto another street by the time you look back to the road. 

when you’re done showering, cleaning off all the substances off your body and warming up from the rain, you can’t help but think about jay. you stare at your blurry reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror as you brush your teeth. how long will this thing between you and jay last for? 

you spit and put your toothbrush down, leaning on the palms of your hands over the sink as you stare at yourself. your mind is becoming tangled with jay and you and ruby. you know that you shouldn’t want jay as much as you do, that if ruby ever found out… it would ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had. 

but jay is involved, too. you think jay must want you, too, even a little. it’s just does he want more than sex with you, or does he want exactly what you want? you want to call him yours, and no one else's. you want more than secret sex that is only kept between you two. 

it’s wrong to think of your best friend’s boyfri— ex boyfriend like this, and you know it. but you can’t help the feeling that rushes through you when you think about the way he says your name, or when he calls you baby. you can’t help that all your nerves in your skin feel like they’re on fire when he touches you. or that he makes you feel understood and real. he’s the only person in this world that makes you feel like you’re worth something more than just ruby’s shadow. 

and it just so happens that he’s ruby’s ex boyfriend… you hope it can stay just between you and jay, at least just for a while.

although you were a health science major and jay was in finance, you both managed to have classes in the same buildings at your university. jay used to walk you and ruby to your classes before going off to his. he used to hold the door for you and ruby, always pressing a kiss into her cheek as she followed you into the classroom. 

but now that it’s been two weeks since jay and ruby have spoken (a world record), it’s you holding the classroom door for a depressed ruby, whose shoulders are always slack as she plops down into her seat. ruby used to be like the campus’ ray of sunshine. you always found it hard to have a conversation with her in the hallways because people would always be cutting in to talk to ruby. everyone on campus knew her. but now, there was a dark grey storm cloud over her head that would deter people away from her. 

before, it ruby’s head would always be on the lookout for jay, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the hallways before class until he’d come up behind her and link his arms around her waist. you’d always avert your eyes to their pda. it always caused a sinking feeling in your stomach that you just couldn’t ignore. 

ruby still looks for the jay in the hallways, but instead of longing for him she hides away. 

“tell me if you see that asshole, y/n.” ruby whispers to you on your way to physiology class, her head ducked down to your ear as she links her elbow with yours. 

you sigh, “ruby, are you really still hiding from him?” you give her an incredulous look. “it’s not like he’s gonna bite you or anything.” 

“ugh, i wish he would.” ruby shakes her head as she keeps her eyes forward. she misses the way you cringe at her words, unable to help the memory of the way jay’s teeth bite down on your inner thigh that gets forced into your mind. “at least then he’d acknowledge me somehow.” 

“still no text from him?” 

“no, not even a like on my insta.” 

you’ve seen ruby sulk before— like last summer there was a 50-50 chance if she’d be ecstatic or depressed every other day when her and jay were going through another one of their “rough patches”. but those moods never lasted as long as this one has. it’s gotten to the point that you’re seeing different sides of your best friend that you hadn’t even known existed. ruby has become more desperate and clingy. you hadn’t realized before how much her mood is affected by her relationship with jay. it’s like she’s fragile. 

“yo, jay!” a male voice calls from behind you. you feel ruby freeze beside you as you both see park wonbin behind you, coming closer as he keeps his gaze locked in the hallway in front of you— obviously searching for someone. 

“shit!” ruby lets out a sharp hiss before she darts into the girls’ washroom, leaving you standing alone in the hallway. 

you watch park wonbin walk straight past you, much like everyone else does when ruby isn’t with you. “jay, bro, where have you been?” wonbin continues, his hand reaching up as he aims to dab jay up who stands right in front of him now. 

you can’t help the way your chest tightens when you see that jay is fully turned in your direction, but his eyes don’t even flicker your way— they stay on wonbin. jay’s lips (that you’ve become pretty familiar with) upturn into his usual smirk as he meets wonbin. 

if jay turns his eyes to the right just a little bit he’d be able to see you. please. you mentally beg him to look at you. for him to acknowledge your presence in this busy hallway where you stand by yourself. 

“sorry, i slept in.” you hear him reply to wonbin, nudging wonbin’s shoulder away from him with his fist. 

“up late again last night,” you don’t see wonbin’s face but by the sound of his voice you can tell that it’s scrunched up into a playful tease. “who’d you fuck this time?” 

jay rolls his eyes, turning away from you as he starts to walk further down the hall with wonbin, “shut up, bin.” 

there’s like an elastic band wrapped around jay and your heart, and the further he walks down the hall, the smaller his head gets in  your vision before he turns the corner, the more the elastic band threatens to break. it’s squeezing so tight, fully stretched out until it snaps completely when he’s out of sight. but only your heart is affected, it gets hit from the elastic so hard it stings in your chest.

people keep walking past you in the hallway, weaving around you to not hit you, but they don’t look at you. no, they don’t look at you the way they look at ruby if she was in your position right now. and maybe that’s good for you, or else they’d be able to see the yearning that’s in your eyes as you stare at the last place you saw jay. 

a sudden hit to your shoulder has you breaking out of your trance. 

“oh! i’m so sorry!” a blonde girl puts her hand out to you to apologize, but she doesn’t wait for you to say anything, she keeps walking down the hall with the rest of her friends. 

you take it as a sign that you should go check up on ruby in the bathroom instead of waiting around, hoping for jay park to turn around. 

there’s no one in the girls’ bathroom except for ruby who stands at the mirror, wiping underneath her eyes to rub away the fallen mascara. you can tell she’s been crying when she looks at you. 

“did you see him?” ruby rushes her question out, her eyes wide. “did he say anything to you?” 

“no, he didn’t see me, he just kept walking with wonbin.” 

ruby’s eyes and lips frown at your response, turning back to the mirror to fix her makeup. you lean against the sink counter, watching her gently. 

“he didn’t even glance over?” 

you shake your head no. 

ruby lets out a bitter laugh as he stares at you through the mirror reflection. “you should’ve said something.” 

your eyebrows furrowed together, “said what?” 

“i don’t know, y/n!” ruby’s hands flare at her sides, “something! anything! for once.” 

you take a step back from her, not liking her anger that is obviously rising. “are you really gonna keep dong this, ruby?” 

“doing what?” she turns to face you, arms crossed over her chest as she stares down at you. 

“acting like there’s something i could’ve done to prevent jay from ignoring you.” 

you see red flash through ruby’s eyes quickly— but her expression fades just as quick. she drops her arms, looking at herself once more in the mirror. 

“whatever. we should get to class,” she mutters under her breath, walking past you to the door without looking back. 

you wait a second before following her.

you hadn’t been able to focus reading your textbook the past week since your apartment building was under construction, something about weak pipes on the roof. which meant that from morning to late afternoon all you could hear was relentless banging and drilling as the construction workers fixed the pipes. 

you really needed to get this week’s chapter read for your medical terminology class tomorrow though since your professor has spontaneously started giving pop quizzes for each chapter every week. and since ruby has basically been M.I.A after your physiology class a few days ago you can’t ask to study at her place. 

which leaves you to study at the campus library. 

you didn’t mind the campus library. you use to sit in the library for hours during your first year when your and ruby’s schedules barely lined up. you’d wait for her and jay to come find you after class, pulling you away from your study session to get you to go to some lame party with them. the librarians used to love you since you were always so quiet and didn’t cause any mayhem like a lot of the other students that would come in there. they used to greet you with a smile every time you’d walk in the door with your hands full of textbooks and paper. though, you remember the scowl on their face every time they’d see ruby and jay walk in to come get you. ruby never understood why everyone has to be quiet in a public library. 

you were halfway through the skeletal system chapter with your headphones in and hair pulled into a claw clip to keep your hair out of your face, when sudden warm fingers spread across the back of your exposed neck. 

you jolt upward, your hand flying to your neck as check behind you— catching the eyes of jay who walked behind you, a playful smirk on his face as he looks over his shoulder as he keeps walking past. he’s in a group with his friends, none of them aware of you or that jay had touched you. 

you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips as you look at him, your bottom lip being caught in between your teeth as you try to mask the shyness that takes over you. jay winks at you before he turns back to his friends, all of them retreating to the far back of the library, out of yours and the librarians view. 

your hand stays on the back of your neck where jay had touched you. the nerves on the skin still tingling as you can feel where each one of his fingers had grazed you. your stomach felt like it had exploded with butterflies at the innocent touch. 

but it was more than that. 

sure, he hadn’t stopped to talk to you, but he had seen you. which is more than you can say from what happened in the hallway a few days ago. 

your textbook feels so unimportant now, spread open in front of you. your fingers dancing on the base of your neck, trying to keep the feeling of jay’s fingers there for as long as you can. you know you should really be able to focus on the types of bones in the hand and their functions, but now jay has completely taken control of your brain, once again. 

you wonder why he hadn’t taken the risk to tease you in front of his friends, in public. did it mean that he wasn’t afraid for his friends to know what you and him have done in his bed and in his car? you wish he would say something to you, but for now you’ll have to settle with his actions, trying to decipher what they mean. you decide that is enough for you for now, just knowing that jay sees you, even when ruby’s not around. he confuses you, but you figure it’s worth it if he makes you feel like you’re ontop of the world.

on thursday night, when the construction workers finally go home for the night, you plan on sitting on your couch watching reruns of love island and eating take out since you had two three hour lectures earlier. you just wanted to relax in your own home, in silence. 

but, since ruby is your best friend you should’ve figured that wouldn’t have worked out for you. 

even though it’s been days since you have seen ruby, when there’s a sudden knock on your front door you don’t doubt that it’s her. before you can even get up from your spot on the couch where you had planned to rot all night, the front door swings open, and sure enough, it’s ruby. 

“move over,” she huffs out, making you scoot over so she can sit on the couch beside you. she copies your previous position, putting her feet up on the coffee table in front of your couch and drapes the blanket over top of her lap so you’re sharing it. ruby wrinkles her nose when she sees maya jama on screen, announcing that there'll be another re-coupling tonight. “really? love island?” 

you shrug, “it’s entertaining, ok?” 

ruby rolls her eyes but doesn’t complain about your choice in television again. it’s the first time you’ve seen her in a while. you figured she needed space since your little argument in the bathroom, and all the stuff that’s going on with jay. usually you’d be worried if she hadn’t texted you in a while, even if the text was just about homework, but you didn’t seem to be bothered this time around. 

when all the couples are surrounding the firepit and maya jama reappears in another designer dress, ruby sighs before she turns to face you. 

“i’m sorry for ignoring you the past few days,” she starts and pulls her sweater’s sleeves over her hands. you notice that she’s hiding within herself, something she very rarely does. “i’ve been thinking about what you said in the bathroom last week— and you’re right.” your attention is fully on her at this point, though she can barely keep her eyes on yours without looking down at her lap. “i shouldn’t expect you to throw yourself in my and jay’s relationship. and i know that i’ve made you so involved in it and that’s not fair to you. i shouldn’t burden you with all of my relationship drama, i get like, if you’re super annoyed with it. i know i would be.” 

you softly smile at ruby, “you’re my best friend, ruby. i wanna be there for you, when you’re happy or sad or whatever. i just, i can’t control what jay does, and i know that’s frustrating but, i wish you would understand that i can’t make him do anything. he’s his own person.” 

ruby nods, “i know— i do understand. i guess, it’s just you’ve always been there throughout the entire time i’ve been with jay, so i guess it’s kinda like you’re a part of the relationship, too.” she dryly chuckles, but you can’t make yourself laugh. she glances at you warily and then continues, “i guess what i’m trying ot say is, i'm sorry for projecting my relationship problems onto you, or pressuring you or anything like that. i love you, you’re my best friend.” 

you open your arms up, “come here.” 

ruby smiles and scoots over the middle couch cushion to wrap her arms around you, your chins on each others’ shoulders. her familiar chanel perfume takes over your senses. 

“i love you, too.” 

ruby pulls back with a grin, “good, because tomorrow you’re coming to a party with me.” her voice jumps a few pitches, her eyebrows wiggling playfully. 

“what?”

ruby sits back on the couch with her feet propped on your coffee table, “yeah, i’m tired of sitting around all day crying about jay— i wanna go out! have fun again!” she reaches over to your lap, grabbing your popcorn bowl and starts eating a handful. “plus, he blocked me on everything so,” 

“what?” you gasp, leaning over her, jaw agape. “he what?” 

ruby rolls her eyes, “he fucking blocked me, on everything! he’s such a man child.” 

your fingers tangle into your hair on your scalp, trying to process what ruby is saying. jay and ruby have had some pretty awful fights, but they’ve never blocked each other on everything before. 

“why do you look so shocked?” ruby gives you a quizzical smile, “you know jay, you know how he thinks ignoring people says more than actual words.” ruby lowers her voice a few octaves to mock jay’s voice before she laughs, “he’s such an idiot.” 

your body feels limp as you sit back on the couch. you can’t help but feel a rush of guilt wash through you. was it your fault that he had blocked her on everything? have you really driven them apart? you try to think about what you had said to jay about ruby that could’ve caused him to cut ties with her like this, but nothing comes to mind. he doesn’t even let you say her name when you’re with him. 

“don’t look so worried, y/n, calm down,” ruby waves her hand at you before she takes another handful of popcorn into her mouth, “god, you’re lucky no one plays games with you like this. but, i guess no one’s ever obsessed over you anyway to wanna play games with you.” 

you cock your head, wanting to push her more about what she meant, but molly’s just been dumped from love island, making ruby scoff and shake her head. “i don’t even like, kady! why does molly have to go!” 

you know that you should feel better that things with ruby are okay again. she’s sitting on your couch complaining about reality tv with you and planning when to go out again. it’s like usual, but it’s not. 

the usual isn’t that you’re secretly hooking up with your best friends ex boyfriend. the usual usually includes jay being here with you, whether he’s fighting with ruby or making her giggle quietly. 

the usual doesn’t include you realizing your best friend makes you feel like shit— undesirable and unseen. it doesn’t include her ex boyfriend making you realize that you can shine without ruby. that you’re wanted. 

you stare at the tv without really watching it— you’ve seen it before, the islanders crying as they hug molly goodbye as zach looks shocked that she’s really leaving. you use to compare yourself to molly, almost having something you really want before it’s ripped away from you. but now you wonder if you’re more like zach, watching everything happen but not doing anything to stop it until he feels a quiet guilt that he can’t fix.

even though ruby is usually always late to class, she is never late when she has to pick you up to go to a party. so she’s pulled up outside your apartment right at 10pm sharp, texting you to come downstairs. you take one last look in the mirror before you leave, hoping that ruby doesn’t get too drunk today that you leave within an hour to take her home. that’s happened too many times before. 

but all those times before weren’t as bad since jay was with you and would help you walk ruby up the stairs to her apartment and tuck her into bed. if she would start throwing up then you would hold her hair as jay rubs her back. jay being there would definitely make the drunk ruby experience a lot better. 

but tonight, there would be no jay to help you with her. 

as soon as you got in the car and started driving to the party, you knew that tonight might be one of those nights where you leave early and have to physically push ruby up the stairs and get her into bed since she’d be totally incapable of doing it herself. 

“i’m just so tired of thinking about jay!” ruby waves her hand dismissively, “i want to have fun tonight okay! so let’s dance all night okay, y/n?” 

you smile at her, “sure, if you want.” but you know that once she starts drinking as soon as you get to the party that she won’t be able to stop and she’ll be dancing with anyone. 

you pull up to some house, with minimal lights on inside but you can hear the music from the front yard so you know there’s a party in there. plus there’s drunk people already on the porch, laughing and struggling to stand up by themselves. 

inside the house was crowded, probably one of the most crowded house parties you’ve ever been to in your life. it was a struggle for you to follow ruby into the kitchen, but she kept a hold of your hand and led you through it. you could hear people greeting ruby in front of yo, but you kept your head down, just trying to get through this crowd without being elbowed in the side. 

the kitchen was already a mess and the party hadn’t started too long ago. there were solo cups all over the table and opened bottles of vodka, and for some reason the tiled floor was soaked. 

“you’re are so taking shots with me tonight,” ruby squealed as she looked down at the variation of drinks. “shots? really?” you ask her, you had never been a fan of shots, plus it was hard to take shots when you always had to be the sober friend to look out for ruby. 

“yes! please,” ruby begs you, her eyes pleading for you to agree, “please c’mon, you know how hard it’s been for me recently.” 

you cringe at the mention of why she’s been so down recently, knowing that maybe you had a part in it. you take a glance at all the vodka and the different coloured shot glasses in front of you and you decide that maybe taking a shot would decrease the feeling of guilt that’s crawling up your throat. 

“fine, pour me one.” 

“yay!” ruby claps excitedly as she grabs a bottle and pours some of the clear liquid into four shot glasses. “two for you and two for me.” 

“what, two?” 

“yes duh! it’ll be fine, please.” 

you take a look at her sad, begging eyes for a moment, and then pick up both shot glasses, ignoring how ruby laughs triumphantly. you’ve never really been drunk with her before, so she so badly wanted you to be as wasted as her. on the count of three, both of you drink both of your shots consecutively, cringing at the bad taste. 

“ugh, here, hurry,” ruby’s face is scrunched up from the taste, and reaches over to get two cups, pouring some purple punch into them. she passes you one and you both eagerly down the punch, it’s fruity taste a lot better than the strong vodka shots. ruby cheers, her cheeks warm as the alcohol enters her system. she scoops some more punch into hers and your now empty cups, “let’s go dance!” 

you’re still processing the awful vodka taste in your mouth and the way the liquor felt as it goes down your stomach, but you follow ruby back into the crowded living room, holding tight onto your cup. 

ruby pulls you into some little circle that’s in the middle of the living room, greeting some people and hugging them. everyone is holding the same red solo cups as you and ruby. 

“this is my best friend, y/n!” ruby gestures to you in front of the group. “y/n, this is chaeryeong, dana and lexi.” 

you wave at them and mumble a hi under your breath and they do the same before they turn back to ruby. the girl who has long black hair, chaeryeong, grabs ruby’s arm with a serious expression. 

“did you see jay?” 

“what do you mean?” ruby cocks her head, confused. 

“jay’s here, ruby.” 

you see ruby’s face pale as she starts to look around. you have to refrain from looking around yourself. but unlike ruby, you’re looking around because you want to see him, not hide from him. 

“oh my god, why? i thought him and beomgyu didn’t get along,” 

the girl with the curly blonde hair, dana, shrugs, “i don’t know, i guess they made up. i know they’re both friends with wonbin, so.” 

ruby groans, “this sucks, i wanted to have fun tonight! not worry about my ex boyfriend lurking around.” 

chaeryeong puts a hand on ruby’s shoulder, “don’t worry, ruby, we can still have fun!” she turns and looks at you, “right?” 

you perk up as she includes you, “right, you said you wanted to dance ruby.” 

“oh my god, please!” ruby brightens up at the mention of dancing and turns back to the group, “have you guys taken shots or are you just drinking the punch?” 

“just the punch,” dana shows ruby her cup. 

ruby sighs, “come on then, let’s get you guys some shots!” 

before you can say anything else the three girls cheer and follow ruby back into the kitchen. you don’t have any other choice but to follow them, not wanting to be left alone in the middle of the living room. 

ruby starts pouring her three friends some shots, but you stay at the doorway of the kitchen, telling them that you’d prefer the punch instead. you stare back into the living room as dana and ruby start talking about their lab partners for physiology, something that you don’t care to talk about but chaeryeong and lexi seem interested in. 

the house is dark with the only light being from some lazily put up string lights and cheap disco balls. the music has seemingly gotten louder in the past twenty minutes since you’ve been here. you can feel the alcohol warm your stomach, starting to settle into your body. 

you hear ruby cheer again behind you, and you know she must’ve taken another shot. you wonder if any of ruby’s three friends will help you tuck ruby into bed later on. but with the way they’re drinking too, you doubt it. 

you start to think about how if jay were here he’d probably be telling ruby to settle down, or maybe they’d be fighting. but you would know that he’d still help you pack ruby into an uber later on. 

if you hadn’t known that jay was apparently at this party, you would’ve thought that you were hallucinating him from thinking about him too much when you suddenly see him on the other side of living room. he’s standing by the stairs, the fairy lights that are circled loosely around the stair rail hang behind his head, like a halo. 

it’s like he could feel your eyes on him because suddenly he starts looking around the room, turning away from his friend, until his eyes land on yours, still standing in the kitchen doorway. 

you freeze as you look at eachother, but a smirk spreads on jay’s face. his eyes land on your cup for a second, before they return back to your eyes. even from across a crowded room he makes you nervous. he has some dominant energy that takes over you. 

his friend starts talking to him again, making jay turn away from you for a second before he winks at you, then giving his friend his full attention. you think it’s partly due the alcohol, but your cheeks feel warm. 

“y/n,” ruby grabs your arm, turning you around, “let’s go dance!” 

you’re grateful that the house is so dark, or else ruby would’ve definitely commented on how red your cheeks are right now. 

“um, sure. yeah,” you nod at her, your mouth suddenly dry. if ruby looks out into the kitchen doorway right now, she’ll probably see jay. your chest tightens at the thought of what might happen if ruby and jay see each other right now. you’re assuming that jay is also drinking and ruby is on the way to becoming wasted, you wonder if they’d even be able to have a conversation. would they somehow make up after weeks of not talking? 

ruby’s grip on you tightens as she starts to pull you back into the crowded living room, chaeryeong, dana and lexi coming with you. they’re talking about something, but you can’t hear them over the music. you turn your head back to the stair rail where you had last seen jay, but he wasn’t there. your heart drops but you also feel relieved that he had moved, you didn’t want ruby to see him. 

you dance with the girls for a bit, trying to lean into the way the alcohol was making you feel. you finished another cup of your punch and were starting to feel the alcohol burn in the pit of your stomach. the music was sounding better, even if you didn’t know the songs. 

for a while, as you danced, you thought that ruby had control over herself. that she actually hadn’t drank that much. but as the hour prolonged with the five of you dancing in the middle of the living room, and your feet starting to hurt despite the alcohol numbing your lips, you could see ruby’s demeanor start to deteriorate. 

ruby started dancing more sloppily, smiling lazily and yelling loudly but slurred. she kept her hand on dana’s shoulder as she danced, to keep herself balanced. the other three girls were definitely more drunk than you, but they weren’t as drunk as ruby. you could see chaeryeong struggling to keep her eyes wide open, they wanted to fall into slits so she could try to see better but it obviously wasn’t working with the alcohol in her system. 

suddenly, ruby stopped dancing, dropping her hand from dana’s shoulder to cover her mouth. she was bent over slightly, her eyes wide as she started to push through the crowd of people. the four of you look confused at each other before you all start to follow ruby. you all call her name, wanting her to slow down, but it was no use. you all followed her up the stairs, leading to the second floor of the house. 

even though there was a girl about to walk into the bathroom, ruby pushed past her, practically falling onto her knees in front of the toilet. the bit of panic you felt stopped when you saw that she was running away just to throw up. dana is quick to pull ruby’s hair into a makeshift ponytail and chaeryeong turns on the ceiling bathroom light so you could actually see something. 

the poor girl that was pushed out of the bathroom for ruby to vomit was standing there in shock, her jaw dropped with a look of disgust on her face as she watched ruby continuously throw up into the toilet. 

“i’m so sorry,” you gush at the girl, your face scrunched up in embarrassment for some reason. 

the girl looks at you and then quietly laughs, “that’s ok, duty calls.” she gestures at ruby. 

you smile politely at her as the girl turns and starts to head back downstairs. ruby’s friends are all crowding the bathroom door, trying to check in on ruby. the bathroom is quite small though, so you can only stand in the hallway by the door. 

you’re trying to see if ruby is alright, but it’s hard to see through the other three girls. you see lexi turn on the tap, filling her red cup with water for ruby as ruby is still hunched over the toilet bowl. you think it’s time to leave, for ruby’s sake. 

but at least this time you lasted more than an hour. 

unexpectedly, a hand reaches out and grabs your arm and pulls you out of the hallway. you try to speak, to yell to the other girls for help, but another hand lands on your mouth, preventing you. they pull you into a bedroom that was right beside the bathroom, closing the door once you’re pulled in. 

you squirm in the person’s grasp, trying to get them to let you go, your heart picking up pace as you feel their presence behind you. your body is pushed up against the now closed bedroom door, and it’s only then that you see a pair of familiar, brown eyes looking into yours. 

though your body only relaxes when you hear jay’s annoying laughter in your eyes, “i got you good, huh?” he takes his hands off of you, taking a step back so he can take in your scared expression. 

you cross your arms over your body, “haha, very funny.” you speak sarcastically, not impressed by him at all. 

jay tsks at your annoyed face, “oh c’mon, baby, i just wanted to see you.” you tense at the nickname, looking back at the door subconsciously, not wanting ruby to hear him. “relax, they didn’t see me pull you in here.”

“well you’re lucky they didn’t, why would you do that?” your eyebrows furrowed together, concern laced on your face at the thought of anyone seeing you enter a room alone with jay. 

 jay shrugged, “because i wanted to see you.” 

you roll your eyes, “and you couldn’t do it in a more inconspicuous way?” 

jay smirks before he quickly pushes his body against yours, pinning you against the door and him, “no, not when you look so good tonight.” 

you try to push him off, to tell him that he’s being irresponsible, but his lips attach to your neck, pressing kisses into your soft skin. his body feels so warm on yours as his hands start to move down your body. 

“j-jay, we can’t!”

“why not?” jay mumbles against your skin, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing your bare thighs. 

“because ruby is right next door,” you hiss at him, trying to get your voice to see unaffected by his actions. 

jay only smirks and starts to lift the bottom of your dress up, revealing your panties, “so? can’t you be quiet? or is my dick that good?” he laughs when you roll your eyes at him. 

“this is wrong, jay. she could hear!” 

“this entire thing is wrong, it’s been wrong— who cares if she hears?” 

you know he’s right. it’s been wrong since you stayed far too long in his apartment those weeks ago. it’s been wrong since the moment you sat on his lap and made out with him, since he’s made you cum in the backseat of his car. but maybe it’s been wrong since the moment he started dating ruby. the way he’s always been on your mind, how you always caught him staring maybe a second too long at you when ruby would leave the room. you think that maybe in a twisted way, you hooking up with jay at this party that his ex girlfriend brought you to, this was all right. 

jay feels you relax under his touch, and he knows that he’s won. that you’ll let him do anything to you, even hook up with him while his ex and your best friend is in the room right beside you. the rooms share a wall. she’s only meters away from you and jay. 

the thought of ruby walking in and seeing you with jay sends a shock down your body, making your arms grip onto jay’s shoulders as his fingers push your panties to the side are start to massage your clit in a circle. jay knows how you like it now, soft but fast. he knows you like to be teased. he knows what your pussy feels like when you cum. 

he knows too much about you for it to ever go back to how it was before. when it was him and ruby, and ruby’s best friend. 

you let out a sigh of pleasure as you melt into jay’s touch. his fingers starting to warm you up. you can both feel your pussy start to moisten at his touch. you both know how easy it is for jay to get you to soften. 

jay’s lips attach to yours, feverishly. his lips are rough against yours, making out with you against the door hastily. you don’t struggle to keep up with his pace, you let him guide you along. you let his tongue in your mouth, something that he’s done too many times before. like he can recognize every inch of your  mouth now. you don’t think your best friend’s ex should be able to do that. 

“fuck, we shouldn’t do this, jay,” you pull away slightly at the thought of ruby again. but jay’s fingers remain on your clit, circling it, getting your knees to start to quiver. 

“you always say that, yet you always let me touch you, always let me make you feel good.” jay’s voice deepens as he speaks, his fingers slowly becoming covered in your juices as your pussy gets wetter and wetter. there’s something about the risk of being caught, especially if it was by ruby, that sends you spiraling. it has your adrenaline pumping through your veins. “are you that addicted to my dick, y/n? can’t say no to it?” 

you whimper at his question, hating the way that he can so easily wrap himself around your mind, your thoughts. “y-yes, you know i love your dick.” 

jay chuckles dryly at you, not wasting a second to start making out with you again. the back of your head is pushed against the door behind you, your fingers clawing at jay’s black t shirt. his fingers start to pick up pace on your clit, rubbing it just the way you like it. the way that can make you cum the fastest. 

you moan into jay’s mouth, part of you thankful that his tongue is wrapped around yours so that ruby can’t hear you. you start to circle your hips more, trying to get jay to move even faster, trying to get even more of him. 

jay pulls away and looks down at your circling hips, his fingers disappearing under your panties and chuckles, “fuck you’re so desperate for me— you even risk getting caught by your best friend just to get my dick.” 

you nod, your hair becoming a mess on the back of your head from the friction against the cold door behind you, “i just want you in me so bad. please jay,” 

jay’s voice comes out in a growl, “fuck,” he takes his hand away from your pussy, ignoring the way you whimper out at the loss of his touch, “you drive me fucking crazy, y/n.” his hands grab your shoulders, moving you around to push you down on the bed. he’s quick to crawl on top of you, hovering over you with your dress still pulled up over your hips, your panties now having a wet stain on them from your juices. he groans at the sight, “you wear this short dress, stare at me with those doe eyes of yours from across the room— and then act surprised when i pull you in here?” jay hurriedly moves down your body with his lips, kissing the exposed skin of your neck, chest, arms and thighs. 

you try to defend yourself, but your voice is airy from the anticipation, “i, i didn’t think you’d fuck me here.” 

jay shakes his head, “you should’ve known that i can’t resist you, y/n… how can i resist my own personal slut?” 

you moan at the name, loving the way that he truly degrades you. the way it makes you feel powerful. like you have some control over him that no one else does. that you really make it hard for him to think of anything else. that you’re better than anyone else. 

“fuck, ok i can’t wait anymore— take off your panties for me,” jay nods at you, standing up and zipping down his jeans. 

you react quickly, lifting your hips off the bed to take off your underwear, flinging them on the floor. you keep your eyes on jay, his cock now being revealed as he pulls it out of his jeans. he’s already hard and dripping precum. you can tell that he must’ve been hard for a while, that your dress and your eye contact from across the room must’ve really turned him on. that he was telling the truth about him not being able to resist you. 

jay pushes you back down to the bed, his hands grab your thighs to force them open. he stays standing, his feet on the floor as he moves to align his cock with your dripping pussy. he’s being so rough with you, you both know that you trust him to make you feel good. that he knows what you like. 

“just be quiet— you don’t want ruby to hear, right?” jay grunts at you, staring right into your eyes as he glides his cock up and down your slick folds, gathering your sticky juices all over his dick. 

“right, right,” 

with that, jay slides his cock into you, not stopping until his cock hits your cervix. when he bottoms out he stays still for a moment, letting both of you adjust to his size. jay leans over your body, kissing you softly, gently. he pulls away after a minute, watching you flutter your eyes open to look at him again. he presses a kiss onto your forehead once before he stands up straight again. 

jay makes sure he has a tight grip on your legs, holding them up before he starts to pull out of you, so slowly. both of you moan at the feeling of your wet pussy allowing his cock to slide so easily in and out of you. he pulls all the way out so just the very, very tip of his cock is still inside of you, before he slams back inside of you. 

the harsh movement makes you cry out, shocking you from the surprise and the pleasure. 

“shh, baby— ruby’s right next door.” 

you cover your own mouth, trying to silence yourself as jay starts at a quick pace. jay’s hips move in a way that he’s sure makes his cock rub against your gspot. he hovers over you as he keeps your legs in the air. only his hips move as he fucks into you. his pants are just pooled at his ankles, both of you too desperate to get naked. both of you just need to feel each other, even with his ex girlfriend in the room right beside you. 

 “oh fuck, baby,” jay groans out, his eyes staring right at you as you keep your hand covering your mouth. your hand is successfully muting your moans, keeping your cover incase ruby or one of her friends overhears. you know this is wrong, fucking her ex boyfriend whilst she’s drunk next door. but it feels too good to stop. “is this what you wanted? wanted my cock soaked from your pussy?” 

“y-yes, fuck yes.” you answer as quietly as possible, a moan threatens to escape your lips but your hand covers your mouth just in time to silence it. 

even though you have to be quiet, and you and jay both know that you can’t control your moans too well, jay keeps talking to you, grunting out quietly in this random bedroom. “do you feel me in your tummy, baby? feel how fucking deep i am?” 

you nod against the mattress, your eyebrows furrowed together as jay fucks you deeper and deeper. his cock was so long and so hard. you could feel it in the bottom of your stomach every time he slid back in. it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. the way your pussy takes him in so deep, clamping around it like it wants him to stay inside forever. 

your pussy keeps tightening around jay, his own pleasure making him lose control. jay suddenly moves so your knees are pinned to the bed, caging your head in with your legs. he’s bent you into a ball, your pussy squeezed together by your legs, making it feel even tighter for him. you keep your eyes on jay, no where else to look since your legs are beside your head. 

with the new position jay fucks deeper inside of you at a steady pace. he makes sure his cock slides all the way into your pussy before he slides back out. he wants his entire cock coated in your juices. he just loves how wet you get for him. he can already see your juices dripping out of your pussy. everytime he pulls almost all the way out of you, more of your juices dribble around your lips, spreading against your inner thighs. 

jay’s grip on the back of your knees stays firm as he focuses on fucking you. both of you hear your moans against your palm— your palm moist from your saliva and sweat. you’re trying your hardest to stay as quiet as possible. but a part of you wishes that you could scream just as much as you wanted right now. because jay was fucking you so deep and it felt so fucking good. you’ve never been fucked from this angle before. like he’s genuinely drilling into you as he hovers above you. 

“f-fuck,” jay’s voice is growling, he’s never felt this good in his life. he’s getting pussy-drunk just from the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him. just imagining his cock inside of you gets his mind foggy enough to not be able to think straight. so, being able to pound into you like this, keeping you still against the mattress as he fucks you, is enough to get him wasted. “i fucking love your pussy— it’s like it’s made for me.” 

you nod at him, your body starting to feel like it’s on fire from your orgasm slowly building and building. jay leans closer to you, looking straight into your eyes as he demands, “say it— say your pussy is made for me, say that it’s mine.” 

you take your hand off your mouth, clutching the blanket underneath you for support as jay keeps slamming into you. “my pussy is yours, fuck it’s only yours— just for you, just please don’t stop.” 

jay grunts, loving how obedient you are for him. you’ll do anything he asks and it drives him wild. “fuck i won’t stop, baby— love the way you let me use this pussy, especially when ruby is right next door, fuck.” 

you whimper out, reminding yourself that you have to be quiet. you bite down hard on your lip and grip the blanket underneath you tighter. if jay’s cock didn’t feel so fucking good inside of you you’re sure that your body would be sore from the position he has forced you in. if his hands weren’t pinning your knees to bend and stay right on the mattress on either side of your head, you’re sure that you’d whine from the loss of blood to your feet. but his cock is addicting to you— and by the way he’s groaning out quietly nonstop, you’re sure your pussy is addicting to him. that he can’t resist you. that he wants you and only you. 

“i’m close, baby.” jay confesses, his eyes slanted as the pleasure builds within him. he takes one of his hands off your knees and moves so his thumb is pressed right onto your swollen clit. he starts to rough fast and hard circles on it. his thumb swishes against you at the same pace as his cock fucking deep inside of you. 

you moan out quietly, biting your lip harder as you stare at jay. he looks so hot above you. he’s so focused on making you feel good and wanting to cum that his eyebrows are pushed together. he keeps his jaw flexed and he grits his teeth. it’s hard for him to be quiet too. 

“can i cum inside of you, baby? please?” 

“yes, yes please, jay.” you answer so quickly, “please cum inside of me, i want it so bad.” 

“fuck, be quiet baby, unless you want ruby to hear you beg for my cum, is that what you want?” 

you whimper out in response, “n-no, just want your cum dripping out of me, so bad.” 

jay growls again, your words having a strong effect over him. “okay, okay— just cum on my cock for me then? can you do that? does it feel good like this?” 

you nod, “y-yes, just keep rubbing my clit like that, please.” 

jay does what you ask, keeping his thumb steady on your clit with your legs still in the air. his cock keeps sliding in and out of you over and over again. “cum on my cock, baby. wanna feel your pussy cum on my cock.” 

with words send you over the edge, gripping onto his forearms to steady yourself as a huge wave of pleasure washes over you. your body spasms as your pussy clamps over his cock, the ball in your stomach snapping as you cum. jay moves quickly to cover your mouth with his hand, stopping you from screaming out. the orgasm that washes over you is powerful, the hardest you’ve ever cum before. your body feels like it's being electrocuted as you cum all over his cock. the entire time jay doesn’t stop from thrusting his cock in and out of you. 

“f-fuck baby, i- i’m cumming,” jay grunts out, and within seconds you can feel his warm cum coat your pussy. he fills you up right to the brim. he still doesn’t stop thrusting, making sure to cover you’re entire pussy with his cum. he fucks his cum into you, making sure to mark you. making sure to mark his pussy. 

jay doesn’t stop until you’re both panting and overstimulated. he keeps his cock lodged inside of you and finally drops your legs. your legs are limp and weak and fall right to the floor. jay leans over you, his own legs tired from standing over you this entire time. your chests are panting together, covered by clothes but you’re both sweaty and tired from cumming so fucking hard. 

jay slowly pulls out, both of you watching as his cum drips out of you, making even more of mess of your abused pussy. 

“fuck,” jay grunts out, “that’s so hot.” you whimper in agreement. jay leans over so his lips are almost against yours, “you’re such a slut for me, i love it.” you smile as he kisses you again. your mind feels foggy from the orgasm and the alcohol. jay pulls away and bends down to pull up his pants, button them again so he’s fully dressed. he sees your panties on the floor and picks them up, smirking as he touches the fabric. 

“hey, give me those,” you giggle at him, sitting up on your elbows to try to grab them from his hands. jay only bites his lip, glancing between your pussy, soaked in his cum and your panties. “jay?” 

“are you just gonna put these on? with my cum still in you?” 

you gulp, the thought relighting a fire in you at the thought. you, walking around the party with jay’s cum dripping out of you. talking with ruby while her ex’s cum coats your entire inner thighs. 

“give me them,” you repeat and stand up, easily taking them from jay. he watches you intently, curious about what you’re going to do. you bend down, stepping in your panties and sliding them back over your waist before pulling down your dress again. 

“fuck,” jay says breathlessly, staring at your hips, knowing his cum is there. knowing that if anyone saw it, they’d wonder whose it was. knowing that you have been marked by someone— by him. 

you laugh at his reaction, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him for another kiss. 

“i’ll see you, later?” jay looks down at you, his eyes beaming happily. 

“of course,” 

jay kisses your nose once more, before he opens the door and looks down the hall, making sure no one was around before he smiles at you once, closing the door after him so you’re left alone in the bedroom. you look back at the bed, seeing that it’s a complete mess now from your squirming against it. you glance in the mirror briefly, patting down the back of your hair, wiping the fallen mascara under your eyes from the tears of your orgasm. 

when you’re ready, and when you think it’s been long enough for people to not assume you and jay were in here together, you open the bedroom door and step into the hall. you first look at the bathroom right beside you. the door is completely closed now, but you can see that the light is still on it, the light shining through the cracks around the door frame. 

you take a deep breath, glad that ruby wasn’t standing right there. 

just as you think ruby went downstairs again, or maybe even left from throwing up, the bathroom door opens and ruby steps out. her hair is a mess and you can tell she had just been sick. 

“oh, y/n, thank god,” ruby says, letting out a long sigh, “i was so worried, i know you don’t drink a lot so i thought you had gotten lost!” 

“you were worried, about me?” you repeat, trying to understand. 

“well yeah, one second you were there and the next you weren’t! i didn’t know what had happened to you! chaeryeong and dana went looking for you!” 

“oh,” you can’t help but look taken aback, “i was just downstairs, i got lost in the crowd, you know.” 

ruby pouts, “aw, i’m sorry! i threw up,” 

you pretend like this is news to you, a false look of concern on your face, “oh no, are you okay?” 

ruby shrugs, “i guess, i think i shouldn’t drink for a while.” 

you try to not roll your eyes at her. you’ve heard this exact sentence from her a million times before. 

“maybe you’re right. should we get you home then?” 

ruby smiles and links her elbow with yours, “yeah that sounds good, do you wanna make ramen when we get home? i’m so craving it right now,” 

you laugh at her, “what? you just threw up!” 

ruby shrugs, “so? it tastes good,” 

“whatever, but if you throw it up, don’t complain to me about it.” 

ruby boops your nose with her finger, “never.” 

on the way out of the house, you meet eyes with jay who’s sitting on one of the couches. you give each other a look that no one else would understand. no one knows what secret you’ve been keeping together. or that his cum is currently dripping down your leg. 

ruby pulls you out of the house before you can stare too long at jay, or trip over the crumpled carpet from not paying attention. and even though ruby doesn’t stop talking to the uber driver the entire time home, you don’t listen to a word she says, you don’t think the uber driver listens either. 

the feeling of jay’s cum drying to your inner thighs and pussy has you squirming in your seat. it had a thrill of excitement and risk swelling in your body. you’re glad ruby was still drunk or else she would’ve noticed your demeanor. 

even though it’s only been less than an hour since your hook up with jay, you can’t stop repeating it over and over in your head. he was the perfect mix of rough and gentle. the way his lips feel on yours still tingles on yours. you drag your finger over your bottom lip, drawn to the feeling. 

 jay’s proposal of seeing you later runs through your mind. he actually wants to see you again. the way he was so eager and desperate to fuck you tonight has you spiraling. the way he called your pussy his. like, he actually wants you to be his. 

it’s a dangerous thought that’s grows in your mind, but you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, jay wants exactly what you want. 

since the party, you’ve not only wanted more of jay’s touch, but you’ve craved more of the feeling that you get when you’re with him. the feeling like you can do anything you want now that you know who you truly are. that you’re not meant to be someone else’s shadow— you’re meant to be the light that causes a shadow.  

you used to pray for the construction workers to speed up the work they were doing on the roof of your apartment building, but if their slow work meant more opportunities for jay to slip his hand underneath your skirt in the back of the library, then you hope they take months. 

though jay’s fingers fucking in and out of you made it hard for you to focus on how micro organisms affect how diseases spread in the human body, you didn’t mind since it got jay close to you. it got you to realize that you can do something that doesn’t fit the “good girl” persona ruby has forced onto you. that you can make your own decisions. 

you spent more nights at his apartment, which let you sleep in longer since there was no power tools to wake you up. it let you and jay explore each others’ bodies more. it let jay be able to find your gspot perfectly every single time he entered you. he got you to come undone faster and faster every single time. you got to familiarize yourself with each and every vein that protruded off his hard cock. you know which parts of your tongue he likes to feel most wrapped around the tip of his cock as you suck him dry. 

it let you and jay have more lazy morning sex before you both had to get up for class— even if that lazy morning sex was disrupted by his friends banging on his front door. the rush of adrenaline that you got as you snuck out of his apartment half naked with his bite marks on your chest and thighs as he distracted his friends with something in the kitchen.

the craving for the feeling and the physical pleasure jay gives you got you to text him in the middle of class telling him you need to feel his warm cum drip down your pussy in the back of his car in twenty minutes or else you will explode, with ruby right beside you. the feeling of finding yourself and sex was available whenever and wherever you wanted was addicting and possible if you kept it a secret. 

at first, the high jay was able to give you felt like this all was the right thing to do to break out of the shell ruby has tricked you into. that doing something so out of question for you would help you grow as a person. but everytime jay pulls out of you and you walk home with your panties still left on jay’s bedroom floor, that achy craving feeling of the loss of that high gets more detrimental and inevitable. 

when you have jay’s full attention, it feels like you can do anything, like you’re the centre of the world. the things he tells you and whispers in your ear just before he makes you cum for the one hundredth time. it makes you feel like you have everything you ever wanted— that you have jay. 

but the truth is that you don’t have jay, not the one you want anyways. 

you don’t want to sneak around with him, only being able to feel like this true self of yours when you’re alone with him. you want to be able to hold hands with him down the hallways at school, to dance with him at parties and hang out with his friends. stuff that he used to do with ruby. 

you don’t want to stop what you have with jay, it feels too good when you’re with him, but it feels so bad when you’re not. you used to be able to enjoy being alone, you almost preferred it sometimes. but now it feels like the world is about to crash down when you’re left with yourself. like you don’t know who you are when you’re not in some secret world with jay that you and him have built. 

at first this used to feel empowering, but now it feels like you’re pretending. that when you’re with jay you have to put on this persona that you’ve created just for him to be able to stand being around you. that without this persona jay wouldn’t touch you. yet, the pleasure you feel is so real, but the pain you feel is raw and visceral.

the secret you keep with jay can only help you grow as a person so much. it’s like you’ve outgrown this secret, but you crave more with jay. you want it to feel as raw and visceral with jay as does the pain you feel when you’re alone. you don’t want to become someone else in order to keep him, you want him to want you, not the version he thinks is the real you. 

the secret can keep you alive for so long before it starts to rot inside of you until you can’t keep it hidden any longer.

you’ve never been the one to go out drinking alone. even when you’re with ruby you barely drink. maybe because you’re always her babysitter since she can never pace herself properly. 

but tonight you’re tired of only being able to feel like some greater version of yourself when you’re with jay. and you’re tired of being in ruby’s shadow when you’re with her. you feel so many emotions at once and you’re just trying to figure out who you are and who likes you for the real you. 

it took you a fourth shot for you to be able to start dancing at the bar downtown that you and ruby have gone to a few times before. the music started to sound better and your cheeks started to burn from the alcohol in your system. 

a few girls started dancing with you, they were introducing themselves to you but you can’t remember their names. they told you to start drinking some mango cocktail that they were also having, which tasted so good you didn’t know how much vodka they were mixing in each one. 

by the time your little drinking group had decided to head home, it was already 2am and you were wasted, but you didn’t want to go home just yet. without thinking for long, you type in jay’s address and order an uber to his apartment. you tried texting him that you’re coming over but you couldn’t find his name in your text messages. 

when you get to his apartment and knock on his door you’re holding yourself up by leaning on the doorframe until he opens the door, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. he was shirtless and in those damn grey sweatpants that drove you crazy. even with his hair a mess you still wanted him. 

“y/n?” jay grumbles, his voice hoarse from being woken up so abruptly in the middle of the night. “what’re you doing here?” 

you pout at him, walking past him into his apartment that you’ve been at countless times before, “i want you, duh!” jay shuts the door as he turns around to face you. it’s so obvious that you’re wasted. your speech is slurred and eyes are glazed over, plus you smell like you’ve been at the bar for as many hours as you were. before jay can process what you want, you’re reaching up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pushing your lips onto his, something that you’ve done so many times before. 

“w-wait,” jay puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back down onto your flat feet, pushing you off of him. “you’re drunk.” 

you give him a dismissive snort, “i’m not that drunk.” 

jay stares back at you unimpressed and not believing a word you say, “we’re not gonna fuck right now, y/n.” 

you pout again, crossing your arms over your chest like a child as you stare up at him, “why not? you don’t want me anymore?” 

jay puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to turn you around to walk you into his bedroom, “c’mon, lets lay down and sleep.” 

“no!” you dig your heels into the floor, stopping him from taking you anymore. you turn to face him again, your face still pulled into a pout. “i want you. you don’t want me?” 

“not when you’re drunk like this, baby, c’mon, let’s sleep.” 

you can’t help but groan in frustration, pushing his arms off of your shoulders, taking a step back so he can’t persuade you to sleep with his touch. 

“i thought you knew me, jay!” your voice rises, mainly due the alcohol in your system but also from the built up frustration and confusion you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks. “i thought you knew the real me, but i guess you don’t. no ever does.” 

“y/n, please,” jay pleads, so obviously not wanting to deal with this right now, but his dismissal of you only fuels your anger more. “it’s not like that and you know it. let’s talk about it in the morning.” 

“ugh,” you groan and step around him so you’re closer to the front door and further from his bedroom. “you always say ‘let’s talk later’ or ‘don’t over think this’. but, i can’t do that anymore. you don’t want me in public so we’ve been sneaking around for months. and now what? you don’t want me in private?”

“well what do you want me to, y/n?” jay finally snaps, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you, “you’re my ex’s best friend! i don’t know what to do! what—” 

“then figure it out!” you cut him off, your narrowed eyes matching his, “figure out what you want! do you want me, or not? because i’m tired of secrets, sneaking around and pretending to be someone i’m not!”

jay’s face contorts into one that looks taken aback by your outburst. like he was never expecting this from you. which only proves to you that he doesn’t know you. he doesn’t know what you’re actually capable of. and maybe it’s time you figure out what you’re capable of on your own, without jay and the way he makes you feel. 

before he can say anything else you turn and storm out of his apartment, not even bothering to close the door behind you. you just rush outside into the cool night air, thankful to be alone on the street as you kneel down onto the sidewalk, letting out confused tears that you’ve been holding onto for months. 

you wanted to be seen, but instead you’ve become so hidden that you don’t even know who you are anymore.

it’s been a week since you’ve seen either jay or ruby. 

you told ruby you’re suffering from a horrible, disgusting flu all week which made her stay far away from you and ask no further questions about your absence from school. there’s a big football game coming up so she needs to be in perfect shape for cheerleading and obviously can’t risk getting sick. 

however, you’ve been radio silent from jay all week. the first few days after you had stormed out of his apartment as a drunk mess and told him to figure himself out, you were checking your phone every five minutes for a text from him. but a text never came. 

you debated just giving in and calling him and apologizing for being a disaster, but you couldn’t force yourself to be so pathetic. you had left the ball in his court. jay was the one who had to come up with a solution to fix whatever this was you had going on with each other. 

but with his current track record of ignoring ruby for weeks now, you figured you better give him some time before you completely give up on him, if he was even gonna answer you at all. 

ruby texted you earlier that she’s gonna bring over some soup for you since you’re feeling a bit better after your “week long flu”, so you were laying on your couch waiting for her. maybe she’d stay awhile once she saw you in perfectly good health. 

there was a knock on your door and you waited a second for ruby to burst in afterwards like she always does. but the door remains closed until another knock. you push yourself off your couch, wondering who could be at your door if it wasn’t ruby. 

when you pulled open the door, you froze. 

jay was standing there with a sheepish smile on his face. like he had known he wasn’t the one you’d be expecting at your door. 

“hi, y/n.” 

“jay, you can’t be here. ruby’s coming over.” you whispered harshly at him, glancing down the hallway in case she was near. 

“i’ll make it quick.” jay pushes, and steps into your apartment. you grapple for words as you glance one more time down the hallway before closing your door and locking it. 

“jay, seriously, she might see you leave here!” 

jay shrugs, keeping his position as he stands in front of you. you can tell he doesn’t care if she sees or hears or even smells him. but you can’t say the same. it has you biting your lip with anxiety as you stand in the middle of your front door and jay. 

“i’ve been thinking about what you said.” jay starts, his tone serious and eyes softening. “about all the secrets and sneaking around that we’ve been doing. and that you feel like you’ve been pretending to be someone.” he steps closer so he’s only inches away from you now, “i feel like that’s my fault. i’m sorry if i made you feel like you had to be someone else around me, i didn’t mean to make you feel like that.” 

you hold your ground even though you want to collapse into his arms and tell him that you’ve missed him all week. that you wished he would’ve just told you this sooner. but you keep your gaze hardened as you look up at him. “then what did you mean to do?” 

jay reaches down for your hands, playing with your ring like he always does. you feel yourself almost give into his touch, but you pull your hand away. jay needs to speak for once. you’re tired of trying to decode all his actions to try to find out what he means. you want him to say it. like a man. 

he looks taken aback a bit when you pull away from him. but he knows what you want. it’s just up to him if he can give that to you. 

jay sighs, “you were right. i have to figure out what i want.” he keeps his eyes on you, soft and genuine. he takes your hands in his and this time you let him, not breaking eye contact with him. “i missed you, and i’m sorry for confusing you— but i do know you, y/n. i do.” 

you feel your breathing pick up pace slightly and gently as jay leans in closer to you slowly, like he’s making sure you’re okay with this. when you don’t pull away from him he lets his lips meet yours for the first time in a week. the kiss is slow and sure and almost selfish. 

but you close your eyes, letting yourself melt into his lips once again. 

jay pulls away first, his eyes seeming genuine as he looks down at you, scanning your face like he’s missed looking at your features all week. 

“i am sorry, y/n.” 

you nod in understanding, letting yourself smile. he smiles at your quiet response, his hand cupping your jaw so his thumb brushes against your lips swiftly. 

“okay, i’ll go.” 

you wrap your arms around yourself instinctively, letting him walk past you to the door. he opens it and stands in the doorframe for a second, glancing back at you like there’s more he wants to say. he opens his mouth to speak, but closes it, his gaze shifting to the floor before looking back up at you. “don’t overthink too much, okay? you always do that.” 

you nod once more to him before he closes the front door after him, leaving you alone in your apartment. 

you don’t get a chance to take in the faint sizzle on your lips that jay had left— your ring still twisted on your finger from his anxious fiddling as he spoke before there’s a knock on your door again. when the door is pushed open automatically you aren’t surprised to see ruby, but you wish she had given you another minute to pull yourself together after seeing jay. 

“they didn’t have chicken noodle,” ruby pouts, “but they had tomato!” she holds up a plastic bag with an overenthusiastic smile. 

“perfect, i love warm ketchup.” 

ever since ruby came over and watched the rerun episode of love island with you, she’s been obsessed with the new season coming out tonight. so you picked up some chips and candy to watch the season premiere with ruby at her apartment. 

you looked forward to sinking into the couch with your best friend, watching shitty romance reality tv like nothing had ever changed between you two. like you haven’t been hooking up with jay for months now. you needed some normalcy in your life, especially now that jay had apologized to you. it felt like a new start for both of you. 

“ruby!” you call out as you open her apartment door, “i got you sour patch kids! the ones with gross watermelon that you lik—” you stop mid-sentence as you look up from the plastic bag you were carrying, almost dropping said bag when you see who’s sitting on the couch. 

“y/n!” ruby greets you excitedly, stepping out from the kitchen grinning from ear to ear. she was glowing almost. like the grey storm cloud that was overhead had finally dissipated. “look who’s here!” 

you take a second glance at the couch, wondering if you had mistaken the person for him. but when your eyes met his, you knew there was no mistake. 

he was sitting on ruby’s couch. in the exact same spot he use to sit in months ago, his arm thrown over the back of the couch as he smiled sheepishly at you. 

“jay?” you finally speak, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“yeah!” ruby nods with a little jump, “can you believe he’s here?” 

you’re unable to speak as you look between ruby and jay, trying to understand what is going on. ruby’s laughter breaks you out of your trance. she turns to jay, “she’s more shocked than i was!” you hear jay laugh but you don’t look at him. you’re too busy realizing that ruby is back to her same old self, like a ray of sunshine that can’t stop smiling. you haven’t seen her this gleeful in months. 

“oh! and y/n,” ruby comes up to you, grabbing your shoulders with her hands, “look!” she shoves one of her hands in your face and it’s impossible to miss what she’s showing you. “we’re engaged!” 

the clear diamond sat right in the middle of a silver band slid right onto ruby’s ring finger. 

“w-what?” your eyes scan quickly between ruby and jay. you unconsciously take a step back, heading back into the apartment’s door frame, like your mind and body are fighting if you should stay or run away. 

“isn’t it amazing!”! ruby beams, her face contorted into a huge smile as she stares at the ring on her hand, “and it’s all thanks to you!” 

“thanks… to me?” 

“yeah! jay told me that you talked some sense into him,” 

your focus is back on jay who is now standing up from his spot on the couch, walking over to stand next to ruby. 

“yeah, i told her how you told me to figure out what i want.” jay’s smile is tight lipped as he glances between you and ruby. “and this is what i want.” he wraps his arm around ruby’s waist, where it’s been so many times before. it’s safe and comfortable and easy. “i want to settle down and not hide my feelings.” 

ruby smiles at jay in a way that makes your stomach turn. jay kisses her on the cheek and he whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle before he turns back to you, “and i couldn’t have realized that without you, y/n. thank you for being such a good friend.” 

friend.

“right, thank you for always being there for me, y/n. you really held me together these past few months,” she elbows jay in the side playfully. “and now you’ll help me plan this wedding right!” ruby comes up to you, grabbing your hands in hers as she jumps up and down. 

you’re in too much shock to respond properly, your gaze continually flicking back and forth between both of them, trying to recognize either of the people standing in front of you. “y/n?” ruby’s voice says your name mixed with concern. “are you okay?” “um,” you step back into the hallway, away from ruby’s touch. she pouts as you force her to drop your hands, “i’m just, not feeling well. i think i’ll go home and watch love island from there, if that’s ok.” 

“oh,” ruby’s face remains in a pout, “okay, you were just starting to feel better again, too.” 

“yeah, yeah— um, i’m so happy for you, but i have to go, okay?” you drop the plastic bag of snacks on the floor beside your feet, not being able to hold them anymore with the way your body starts to feel numb. 

“okay?” 

“see ya, y/n.” jay calls from over ruby’s shoulder, but you don’t look at him as you turn and make a beeline straight to the apartment building’s stairs, not even bothering to wait for the elevator. 

you rush down the flights of the stairs, tears brimming your eyes the entire way down. your hands are trembling as you hold onto the stair railing. the exit door feels like a sanctuary as you reach it and push it open— feeling the cool air on your skin. the door hits the wall behind it as you push it open with far too much strength. 

you’re panting as you stand still, jay’s face and ruby’s ring still imprinted in your mind, replaying over and over again. 

a sudden drop of water landing on your cheek has you glancing upwards to the sky. the sun was covered by a dark grey cloud, the rain just starting to patter down now. the pavement slowly turns darker as the rain picks up as you stand there, your jaw dropped as you feel like it must be some cruel prank.  

friend. 

the word sounds foreign in your mind coming from jay’s lips. were you guys even friends in the first place? or were you always just ruby’s boyfriend and best friend? 

it felt like you guys had gone from strangers to lovers to strangers who know everything about each other. like the way his tongue felt against your neck. the way he’d wash his body first and then his hair in shower. he knew your secrets— you shared the biggest one. 

the worst part that was beating at your hear the most was how you believed everything he said. you thought he saw you and knew the real you and not the version that ruby and everyone else thought you were. you thought he’d help you grow into the version of a woman that he knew you could be, even if you didn’t. even if you didn’t like that version. 

jay messed with your mind. and for what? 

to get back at ruby? 

just in the end for him to go back to her? to go back to the easiest version of love that he could, where there were no risks? just familiarity. 

you don’t take another step before you collapse onto your knees on the wet pavement, the rain splattering around, soaking your hair and clothes, mixing with your tears. you wanted to scream loud enough to erase everything that had happened in the past few months— all the agony and secrets and pleasure.

you yearned for the past version of yourself that you knew. the version that didn’t hate being alone. that didn’t need jay’s attention to feel like she was worth something. that didn’t feel like she was self sabotaging herself by allowing herself to be put into her best friend’s shadow. 

your sight is blurry from your tears and the rain as you stare down at your hands when you realize: you have no idea who you are. 

if you aren’t ruby’s good girl best friend and you’re not the carefree girl that jay chooses— then who are you? especially now that you’re alone. 

it’s just you, curled on the pavement in the pouring rain as the grey cloud hovers above you, taking away the last bit of your sunshine. the loud rain helps you think and realize that you never want to feel like this again. 

you stand slowly, clothes wet and sticking to you. there’s no one around, no one to come after you or ask if you’re okay. but maybe that’s what you need. you don’t need anyone else in order to fulfill your identity. 

so you walk away from all the versions of yourself that are tied up in that apartment that were never truly yours and you don’t look back. you don’t want to go back. ever. 

@ taeghi, 2025. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

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[colouredbyd]

The Secret's Out

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: When a familiar red panda keeps appearing during full moons and stolen afternoons, the Marauders can't help but feel like they're being watched. But when a single accident unravels the truth, they discover that their elusive companion is much closer to their hearts than they realized.

warnings: fluff, animagus secrecy, fluffy moments, slow-burn tension, unspoken feelings, hints of angst, fluffy ending. technically part of a blurb series but can be read alone

w/c: 5k (this was supposed to be a drabble)

a/n: flicker is so <3

part of my mini blurb series Flicker's Adventures

masterlist

You weren’t exactly proud of how long you’d kept it hidden.

It had started as an experiment—an idea that had tumbled into your head after one too many late-night discussions with Remus about Animagi. He always talked about it with a sort of reverence, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spines of dusty library books, eyes distant with the flicker of moonlight. You’d been enchanted with the idea. A secret shape. A second self. Something you could slip into like water, effortless and soft.

But you’d never intended for it to become…this.

The first time you transformed, it was clumsy and half-formed. Paws that didn’t quite fit right, ears that twitched with every sound, like you were listening to the whole world all at once. You barely managed to change back, sprawled out in the underbrush of the Forbidden Forest with twigs stuck in your hair and dirt smeared across your cheeks. But it got easier. Night after night, you practiced alone, curling up at the base of trees or darting between shadows, soft and silent.

It was thrilling. Until it wasn’t.

Because the Marauders, for all their brilliance and their utter inability to mind their own business, had a knack for being everywhere you weren’t supposed to be. And it was only a matter of time before the encounters began.

They had been your best friends since fourth year, and over time, things had shifted, melted, molded into something beautiful and far more complicated. Sharing breakfast meant pressing soft kisses to sleepy cheeks. Studying in the library meant James playing with your hair while Sirius sprawled with his head in Remus’s lap. It was easy, and you loved them fiercely, just as fiercely as they loved you.

But you had secrets too.

The first time, it had been easy to avoid them. You’d been curled up in your Animagus form, nestled atop a low branch near the Black Lake. The sun had been warm, and you’d let yourself drift, tail flopped lazily over the edge like a banner of red silk, swaying gently with each breeze that whispered through the treetops.

You had always loved transforming during the quiet hours. When the grounds were empty, and the lake shimmered under the light of the sun, it was your time to breathe—to be just a flicker of red in the trees, untethered and unseen. You’d never been caught before. Not once. You knew how to blend in, how to become nothing more than a flash of red fur and shadows. But that day, you’d let your guard down.

When the footsteps crunched over dead leaves, you barely had time to snap awake, your heart seizing with panic. You scrambled upright, claws gripping the bark as you peered through the thicket of branches. Just beyond the edge of the lake, James and Sirius barreled into view, laughing and tossing a Quaffle between them, voices carrying in that easy, careless way they always did. They were still dressed in their Quidditch uniforms, mud-splattered and windblown, clearly just back from practice. Their cheeks were flushed from the cold, eyes bright with that post-game adrenaline.

They looked almost painfully perfect in the sunlight. Sirius’s hair was wild, catching the light with every toss of his head, while James wore that familiar, untamed grin, glasses askew but somehow still perfectly him. You couldn’t help but watch, tucked away in the shadows, your tiny heart hammering as you watched them joke and shove at each other like children.

“What was that?”

James had stopped short, hand frozen mid-toss as his eyes squinted through the sunlight. He stepped forward, brow furrowing as he peered into the trees. “I swear I saw something.”

Sirius just laughed, clapping him on the shoulder with an exaggerated huff. “You’re losing it, love. Probably just a squirrel.”

“A red squirrel? That big? Nope.” James shook his head stubbornly, still squinting, his eyes scanning the thicket where you were tucked. You flattened yourself against the branch, curling your tail around your body like a shield. For a moment, your eyes locked with his, and you froze, heart leaping to your throat.

But Sirius had already moved on, still tossing the Quaffle back and forth as he wandered down the trail, oblivious. “C’mon, Prongs. We’re supposed to meet Remus and dovey at the library, remember? If you’re gonna start jumping at shadows, at least make it something interesting. Like a dragon.”

James huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he finally turned away. “You’re a menace, Pads.”

“Wouldn’t have me any other way.”

As they wandered away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, claws still gripping the bark with tension. But then—

“Oi! Hold up,” Sirius called, suddenly pausing mid-step. He squinted back towards the tree you were nestled in. “You know, I’ve never seen something that red. Not even the squirrels.”

Before you could move, James stepped forward, eyes wide with wonder. “Holy shit. Siri, it’s… it’s adorable.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, stepping up beside him. His grin split wide, and before you could so much as twitch, his hand shot out and scooped you right off the branch. “Gotcha!”

You squealed—an embarrassing little chirp—and squirmed in his grasp, claws scrabbling against his arm, but Sirius only laughed. “Bloody hell, Jamie, look at it! What is it? Some kind of magical raccoon?”

James reached out, petting your head like you weren’t currently panicking, and cooed. “Nah, I think it’s some sort of fox. But not any kind I’ve seen before.”

You wriggled harder, desperate to get away, and with a burst of strength, you twisted right out of Sirius’s hands and shot off toward the trees. You heard their shouts behind you—“Merlin’s sake, it’s fast!”—and the pounding of footsteps as they tried to follow. But you were quick, darting between trunks and under bushes until their voices faded.

Panting, you finally stopped in the shadow of a tree, ears perked as you listened for them. From the distance, you heard Sirius laugh. “Like a bloody flicker of light. Fast as hell, did you see that?”

James’s voice was loud with awe. “We should name it. Something quick.”

“Flicker it is,” Sirius agreed, still laughing. “Wonder if we’ll see it again.”

You slumped back against the trunk, heart hammering but… strangely warmed. Flicker. If only they knew.

The second time you crossed paths with them, you weren’t so lucky.

It was a lazy Saturday morning, the air crisp with the promise of autumn, and you were in your Animagus form, sneaking your way towards the kitchens for a pilfered biscuit or two. You’d become somewhat of a regular visitor—house-elves didn’t seem to mind, and there was always something fresh and warm to snatch. This morning, it was shortbread, still steaming and dusted with sugar. You snagged a piece in your tiny paws, nibbling at the edges with a pleased hum.

Just as you were about to make your way back to the common room, a familiar set of voices echoed down the hall. You barely had time to scamper beneath a long, linen-draped table before James and Sirius strolled in, Remus trailing behind them, looking a bit more tired than usual. Sirius had his arm slung around James, animatedly describing some outrageous Quidditch maneuver while James nodded along, spinning his wand between his fingers.

“I’m just saying, I think it’s got to be a magical creature,” James insisted, flicking his wand absentmindedly so sparks danced at the tip. “Nothing else looks like that. That tail? Come on.”

Sirius chuckled, elbowing him in the ribs. “You’re just upset it didn’t stick around for tea.”

Remus, who had been quiet up to this point, raised an eyebrow. “You two are still on about that red thing?”

“Flicker,” James corrected, grinning like he’d just found a new species. “And yes. Pads said it himself—like a flicker of red. It’s the perfect name.”

Sirius gave a wicked grin, nudging Remus with his elbow. “Prongs nearly cried when it ran off. Thought he’d never see it again.”

“I did not cry!” James retorted, his face flushing. “I was just—invested. It’s not every day you find a creature that cute wandering the grounds.”

Remus hummed thoughtfully, but his lips twitched upward. “Maybe it’s someone’s familiar. Or just a stray. Magical creatures don’t usually stick around unless they’re attached to someone.”

James pouted. “But it was too cute to be random. And the way it just bolted—it was like it knew we were coming.”

Sirius laughed. “Maybe it’s smarter than you, James. Didn’t want to be manhandled by an overexcited Gryffindor.”

You couldn’t help the amused little chitter that slipped out, your small nose twitching as you watched them from the shadows. But your distraction made your paw slip, sending a nearby spoon clattering to the ground. Instantly, three heads snapped in your direction.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sirius drawled, eyes twinkling with delight. “Caught in the act.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you scrambled backward, accidentally knocking over a pile of napkins in your haste.

Remus took a cautious step forward, eyes narrowing as he peered under the table. “Is that…?”

Before he could finish, you bolted out from beneath the table, biscuit still clutched between your teeth. You heard James yelp, and Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter.

“Flicker!” James shouted, immediately dropping to his knees to try and catch you. “Wait! It’s you!”

Sirius lunged for you as well, hands outstretched, but you twisted just in time, skidding around the table leg and darting towards the door. Your heart pounded, adrenaline surging as you made a break for it.

Remus was quicker than you expected. He sidestepped into your path, his hands moving down to scoop you up, but you ducked just in time, sliding beneath a nearby chair. He let out a soft chuckle, clearly more amused than upset. “I don’t think it wants to be caught, lads.”

James practically whined. “But it’s so fast! Merlin, how’s it moving like that?”

You made a daring leap onto a nearby shelf, perching precariously on the edge as you looked down at the boys. James and Sirius both looked up, wide-eyed, as if they’d never seen anything more precious.

Sirius grinned, hands on his hips. “Smart little thing. Knows how to stay out of trouble.”

James glanced at Remus, eyes bright. “Do you think we could tame it? I mean, if we brought it food or something…”

Remus shook his head, though he was smiling. “James, I don’t think ‘taming’ wild animals is advisable.”

Sirius snorted. “Especially when it’s faster than you, Prongs. You might have to start bribing it instead.”

You shifted your weight, trying to balance, but your grip slipped, and you tumbled right off the shelf—directly into Remus’s waiting arms. He caught you with surprising gentleness, blinking down at you in astonishment.

“Merlin’s beard,” he murmured, holding you carefully. “You’re… really soft.”

You froze, heart hammering as his thumb brushed over your fur. James crept closer, his face lighting up. “Moony! You caught it!”

Remus held you securely but didn’t squeeze, his touch far gentler than you’d expected. “It’s not trying to get away now. I think I scared it into submission.”

Sirius ruffled James’s hair, smirking. “Told you Moony’s got that calming effect. Even on weird little red animals.”

James’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know who would love this? Y/N. She’s always going on about how she wants a pet—imagine her with this little thing. She’d lose her mind.”

Sirius laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, absolutely. She’d probably carry it around everywhere. Spoil it rotten.”

Remus chuckled, glancing back down at you. “Maybe we should introduce them.”

Your tiny heart skipped a beat, the mention of your own name nearly making you squirm. But you stayed still, hoping that somehow, they’d let you go before they realized just how close they already were to the truth.

As they continued debating who got to hold you next, you remained perfectly still, your tiny heart racing. You’d nearly been caught—and worse, you were currently in Remus’s arms, with no safe escape. If they suspected anything, your secret would be out.

But for now, you stayed put, hoping that somehow, you’d manage to slip away before they figured it all out.

And somehow, you always did.

The encounters with the Marauders continued, flickering moments in the shadows of the castle grounds, the edges of the Forbidden Forest, even the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room on particularly stormy nights. They never figured out who—or rather, what—you truly were, and you never stopped watching over them from your tiny, furred form.

Over time, it became routine. They’d spot you darting across the courtyard or perched on a low branch, and instead of startling, they would wave you over with scraps of food and gentle hands. Sirius started smuggling bits of chocolate for you, swearing it was good for "keeping up your energy," while James would leave small pieces of toast wrapped in napkins where he knew you’d find them.

Remus, though, was different. He’d sit beside you sometimes, long after the others had wandered off, his eyes thoughtful and his voice low as he spoke about things that clearly weighed on him. It almost felt like he knew—like he sensed something familiar in the way you stayed close, unflinching and steady, when his voice cracked or his hands shook.

And so it went on, this quiet companionship between you and the Marauders—secrets nestled within secrets, hidden in plain sight.

But secrets, you knew, had a way of surfacing eventually.

And the thread of secrecy is thin—fraying at the edges, whispering of unraveling. Not all lies are meant to last.

You padded through the underbrush of the Forbidden Forest under the pale glow of the full moon, paws light against the damp earth. Countless times before, you had narrowly avoided discovery, slipping through shadows and ducking under roots before any of the boys could see you. But tonight felt different. Tonight, you were pressing your luck, and you knew it.

The forest stretched wide and endless around you, the scent of pine and moss clinging to the air. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting silver webs across the forest floor. You moved carefully, silent as the mist curling at your feet, ears perked for the familiar sound of paws and heavy footsteps.

Because Remus was out here somewhere—prowling, restless, and wild. And you were not supposed to be here.

But you always were.

It had become a ritual, almost. When the full moon crept up on the horizon, you would follow at a distance, paws treading softly through shadow and light, keeping him within your line of sight. You were careful—so careful—to stay hidden. To remain nothing more than a flicker of red fur between the branches, a whisper of movement in the dark.

You didn’t do it because you doubted him. Not really. Remus was strong, stronger than most gave him credit for. His quiet nature masked a resilience that ran deep, carved out from years of learning to live with the curse that twisted his bones beneath the light of the full moon. You had seen it in the way he carried himself: back straight, chin lifted, even when shadows pooled beneath his eyes and his hands shook just a little more as the days crept closer.

But you also knew the weight he carried, the way his shoulders slumped a little lower as the moon grew fuller. The others saw it too, though they masked their worry with jokes and banter, their own kind of armor against the ache of helplessness.

You trusted Sirius and James. Of course you did. You trusted the way Sirius, with his sleek fur and boundless energy as Padfoot, stuck close to Remus's side. His massive form hovered protectively near, always ready to intercept any threat. And you trusted James, with his proud and unyielding presence as Prongs. His antlers cut through the shadows like moonlit knives, always circling, always watching. They were a seamless unit, fierce and unwavering, guarding their boyfriend with an intensity that rivaled the very stars.

But even so, you followed. Not because you feared they would fail him, but because you knew that sometimes even the fiercest protectors could not hold back the tide. You followed because you understood the way Remus's breaths came out ragged and sharp when the change began, the way his eyes, so often warm and gentle, burned with something uncontainable under the weight of the moon.

You followed not out of fear, but out of love. You needed to see it for yourself, needed to know that he was not alone. Because some secrets, even the best-kept ones, are born from the deepest affections.

You weren’t even supposed to be here. The full moon wasn’t exactly a secret—not to you, not to the boys, not to anyone who paid attention to Remus Lupin’s mysterious disappearances every month. And while Remus had been open about it with you—raw and vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache—Sirius and James had insisted you stay far, far away from the Forest during transformations. For your own safety, they said. For his.

They didn’t know that you had a secret of your own. They didn’t know you were perfectly capable of watching over Remus without the risk of getting torn apart. Because, well…they didn’t know you were an Animagus. And certainly not a red panda of all things.

But you’d always been stubborn, and you hated being shut out. So, here you were, paws barely making a sound against the forest floor, your tiny body slipping between shadows as you followed the familiar scent of musk and pine.

Tonight was different, though. The moon hung heavy and full, casting its silver light over the trees as you crept towards the edge of the Shrieking Shack, your heart pounding in your tiny chest. You had watched the transformation from the shadows, hidden and silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. It always did—eventually.

The howls had stopped. That was your sign.

Cautiously, you scurried through the cracks of the shack, slipping inside just as the silence grew thicker, heavier. Remus was there, sprawled out on the dusty wooden floor, still shivering from the aftermath of the transformation. His skin was pale, marred with fresh cuts and old scars, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to catch his breath.

You stayed hidden at first, tucked away in the shadowed corner of the room, watching with a quiet intensity. You were careful, always careful, as you slipped in unnoticed. The silence between your breaths stretched long as you waited. You needed to see him again. To be sure. He was okay. Alive. The simple reassurance of that truth was always the reason you came. It didn’t matter how many times you had witnessed it before, you still found yourself drawn here, drawn to him, like some unspoken promise you couldn’t shake. And yet, even after all this time, you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to let go of the gnawing fear that one day, it would all be gone. That one day, it would be too late.

And then it happened.

A small movement in the corner of your vision—the slightest shift in the air. You turned your head sharply, eyes narrowing. It was quick. A fleeting blur that seemed far too deliberate for your liking. Something so small, but still enough to spike your pulse with a jolt of panic. You froze, your eyes darting from one shadow to the next, until the source of the movement became clear. A spider—its legs long and thin, its body barely a shadow against the worn wooden floor. You held your breath for a second, staring at the creature as it crept closer with an eerie calm.

Even in your Animagus form, the instinct was immediate. Fear licked at the back of your throat, and before you could even stop yourself, a sharp, startled squeak escaped your lips. The sound was completely unexpected, startling even to you. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, and within seconds, you sprang backward, your claws scraping desperately against the wooden floorboards in an effort to distance yourself. The panic that washed over you was raw, unfiltered. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged, your muscles tensing in reflex.

“...Flicker?” Sirius’s voice was the first to break the tension, disbelief coloring every syllable. His eyes were wide as he stared at you, sprawled out on the floor, fur still fluffed up from the fright.

James was next, practically stumbling over his own feet as he stepped forward, his expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What the bloody hell is Flicker doing here?!” His voice was sharp, edged with that familiar note of exasperation that you knew all too well.

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, everything going unnaturally still as his words hung in the air.

You froze, your entire body tensing at the sound of his voice, wide-eyed and terrified. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to disappear, to vanish back into the shadows where it was safe. But it was too late. There was no hiding now. The room had shifted, all eyes now on you, and you could feel their gazes like physical weight pressing down on your fur. Panic rose in your chest, tightening around your throat like a vise.

Before you could react, Remus, still lying on the floor, managed to crack open one eye. Even in his obvious pain, there was something in his gaze—softness, tenderness—that cut through the whirlwind of panic in your mind. 

His lips parted in a slow, weak smile, and the warmth in his voice was unmistakable, soothing against the raw nerves coursing through you. “Hey… come here,” he murmured, his voice rough but somehow gentle. Despite his struggle to move, his hand patted the floor beside him in invitation. “Can’t really move right now.”

The sound of his voice, that calming familiarity, reached you with a force far greater than the fear clawing at your insides. You hesitated, your ears twitching nervously, unsure of whether you should give in to that pull. But something about the way he looked at you—something in the way his eyes softened, the faintest glimmer of affection and understanding—made it impossible to refuse. 

With careful, deliberate steps, you padded over to him, your paws light against the floor, though your heart pounded wildly in your chest. When you reached him, you curled up beside him, careful not to press too heavily against his wounded form. 

The space between you felt like a bridge you couldn’t quite cross fast enough, yet as soon as you were near, you felt his hand rest gently on your back. The touch was so light, so tender, it might have been a dream if it weren’t so real. You could feel his fingers brush against your fur, grounding you with every small movement.

James and Sirius, for all their confusion, exchanged bewildered looks across the room. They hadn’t expected this.

The air in the room grew thick with tension, all eyes still on you as you remained curled beside Remus, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You tried to steady your breathing, but it was impossible. You could feel the weight of their stares, the confusion swirling between them like a storm just waiting to burst.

And then Remus chuckled. It was low, raspy, and yet the sound was warm, full of affection and something else—something that made your pulse skip. He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, everything seemed to pause.

“I know it’s you,” he murmured, his voice soft but just loud enough for you to hear. There was no uncertainty in his tone, no hesitation. Only understanding. “You don’t have to keep hiding.”

The words felt like a shock to your system. Your breath caught in your throat. What? You stared at him, wide-eyed, your mind racing. How could he possibly know? How long had he known? You were about to ask, but before you could form the words, the rest of the room seemed to catch up to what Remus had said.

James blinked, his face a perfect picture of disbelief. “Wait… what?”

Sirius’s jaw dropped, his eyes narrowing in confusion and a growing sense of disbelief. “What do you mean? Know what?”

Remus laughed softly, a sound so full of warmth and knowing it almost made you want to shrink back into yourself. “Come on,” he whispered, giving a slight nod toward you, a knowing smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Reveal yourself.”

The room fell utterly still. The air crackled with that charged silence, the kind that comes just before something explosive happens. You hesitated, every nerve in your body on edge. The tension in the room was palpable, thick as smoke. For a moment, you thought you might be able to remain hidden, to stay in the safety of your animagus form, but Remus’s eyes were so full of trust, so full of that deep, quiet affection, that you couldn’t refuse him. Not now.

You took a shaky breath. You stepped back, slowly, tentatively, your paws scraping against the wood floor with every hesitant movement. And then, in one fluid motion, you transformed. Fur and claws gave way to skin and hands. The change was swift, almost disorienting, but before you knew it, you were standing before them, fully human, exposed, and vulnerable.

You could feel their eyes on you, wide and unblinking, trying to process the impossible. Remus's soft smile never wavered, his gaze warm and steady, a silent reassurance amid the storm of emotions swirling around you.

James was the first to break the silence, blinking as if trying to clear water from his eyes. “Merlin’s bloody beard! Flicker’s—You’re—” His voice pitched somewhere between awe and shock, hands still raised mid-gesture as if he had been frozen in time.

Sirius was not much better off. His jaw had practically hit the floor, his eyes impossibly wide. “That’s…how did…since when?!” His voice was high and incredulous, disbelief painting every syllable. His gaze flickered between you and Remus, a hundred questions bubbling just under the surface.

You stood there, cheeks flushed and heart thumping wildly, hands fiddling with the edge of your shirt. It felt surreal to be standing in front of them, exposed and vulnerable after months of hiding. You turned your gaze to Remus, the only one who seemed entirely unfazed. His eyes were gentle, crinkling at the corners as he regarded you with a sort of fondness that set your heart alight.

“Ever since you fell into my arms in the kitchen,” he said, voice soft and rich with nostalgia. “I smelled you. Even then, I knew.” His hand reached out, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, grounding you back into reality.

James let out a strangled laugh, half-disbelieving and half-amazed. “You mean this whole time…?”

Sirius’s eyes snapped back to Remus, his shock melting into something sharper. “Wait. Wait. You knew?” His voice grew louder, more animated. 

Remus blinked, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Didn’t seem like the right moment to bring it up.”

Sirius’s expression turned comically affronted, his hands flying to his hips. “Not the right moment? Not the—Remus John Lupin, I am going to throttle you.” Without warning, Sirius dove at him, tackling Remus to the floor with surprising gentleness, considering his usual recklessness. Remus let out a soft grunt, half-laughing, half-protesting as Sirius pinned him down, grinning like a madman.

“Sirius!” he groaned, shaking his head, though there was affection in his tone. “I’m in pain, you know?”

But Sirius didn’t seem to care about that. He hovered over Remus, eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint you knew all too well. “You absolute bastard!” Sirius crowed, shaking him playfully. “You kept this from me? From us? Moony, we share everything! I tell you when I find a new freckle on my arse, but you can’t tell me Flicker is our darling girl?”

Remus chuckled, not bothering to fight back, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “You seemed happy enough with her as she was,” he teased, a glimmer of affection lighting up his gaze. “Didn’t want to ruin the magic.”

Remus’s laugh died down slightly as he met Sirius’s gaze, his expression turning a little more serious, though still soft. “I knew,” he admitted, voice quieter now, though it was filled with warmth. “I could smell it. I’m not just a werewolf, you know. My senses are… sharper than most.” He shifted slightly under Sirius, wincing as a wave of exhaustion hit him. “I’ve known ever since that night in the kitchen. And I just… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Sirius, still hovering over him, raised an eyebrow. “A big deal? You kept this secret from me?” He gave Remus a playful shove, trying not to be too rough, but clearly finding the whole thing ridiculous. “Moony, you are a tease. But I guess you’re lucky I love you.”

Remus smiled up at him, his eyes soft with affection despite his exhaustion. “Lucky for me, then,” he whispered, reaching up to gently cup Sirius’s cheek.

James, who had been listening in, finally seemed to process what Remus had said. His face broke into a grin, and he shook his head in disbelief. He stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief, though his smile was growing by the second. 

“Unbelievable. I’ve been feeding you bits of toast under the table for months,” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. “You let me make a bloody fool of myself!”

Sirius finally released Remus—though not before ruffling his hair mercilessly—and turned his attention back to you. His eyes softened, grin turning fond. 

“Well, that explains why Flicker’s always been so damn cute. No wonder you were my favorite,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping you up in his arms without warning. You let out a squeak of surprise, but Sirius just squeezed you tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Our girl, huh? Been sneaking around all fluffy and adorable while we’ve been pouring our hearts out to you.”

James joined in, throwing his arms around both of you with a laugh. “I’ve been whispering my Quidditch strategies to you! Telling you all my secrets. Oh, you’ve played us brilliantly, haven’t you?”

You were laughing now, the sound spilling out of you unbidden and light, your hands curling into the fabric of their shirts as you squeezed back. “I didn’t mean to deceive you!” you giggled. “You were just…so sweet to me. I didn’t want it to end.”

Sirius scoffed, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hands still firm on your shoulders. “End? Are you joking? Now I get to sneak you bits of bacon and call it romance. You’ve upgraded our relationship, darling.”

James snorted, leaning back to ruffle your hair. “Honestly, it just makes me love you more. You absolute minx.” His hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest with a grin. “And here I thought you just liked curling up in my lap because you were a needy little furball.”

Sirius gasped dramatically. “Wait, wait. This means…you heard everything, didn’t you?” He pulled back, eyes wide with a mix of horror and amusement. “All those times I talked to you about Moony and Prongs…oh, Merlin, I’m going to need to lie down.”

Remus, still sprawled on the floor, chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows. “You did tell her quite a bit,” he mused, raising an eyebrow at Sirius. “I was starting to wonder if you were sweet on our little Flicker.”

Sirius rolled his eyes but grinned shamelessly. “Oh, I am. And now I don’t have to feel weird about it.” He scooped you back into his arms, spinning you around once just for good measure before setting you down, his hands never leaving your waist. “I think this calls for a celebration. Butterbeer in the common room?”

James raised his hand. “And toast! For old times’ sake,” he added with a grin. “I’ve been feeding you scraps like you were some little stray, and it was you all along.”

Sirius chuckled, threading his arm around your waist as Remus finally got to his feet. “Merlin, I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Human or red panda, you’re ours. No more sneaking off, yeah?”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a blanket. “No more sneaking off,” you promised, and the three of them pulled you into their embrace, laughter and warmth spilling out into the room.

And for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to hide.

[norristeria]

Oddity¹ ! LN04

PAIRING 𝄡 Lando Norris x Oscar's PA! FemReader, Oscar Piastri x PA! FemReader ( platonic )

SUMMARY 𝄡 Though Oscar's teammate is the strangest man you've ever met, you cannot help but find this oddity charming.

IN THIS CHAPTER... Desperate for a job, you apply to be a personal assistant for a ‘one-of-a-kind young talent in motorsports.’ It's harder than it looks, but only because your new employer is dead set on being a pain in the ass. And what's the deal with his new teammate?

TAGS 𝄡 Angst. Fluff.

WORDCOUNT 𝄡 6k.

NOTE 𝄡 Everyone loved the pairing, so I wrote the series⏤it's as simple as that. What do we think? Not much Lando in this chapter but Oscar and Reader's subplot has my entire heart! I tweaked the chronology a bit because I can. ( not edited. if you see a typo⏤no, you didn't. ) <33

For a better experience, read this story in light mode! ( use of black writing on transparent background )

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

━━━━ ❦ Chapter II.

‘Mark Webber’ sounded like an important name, enough to have its gold plaque hanging on a solid oak door.

The man who opened it matched that image—serene and proud, the kind of man that had known glory, however small, in the past. Mark Webber's charisma was undeniable, yes, but the expectation that lit up his face as he extended a hand toward you, the need for recognition clearly visible in his eyes, made him so painfully human that your shoulders relaxed.

He may have been the manager of your future client—a ‘one-of-a-kind young talent in motorsports' according to the job description—but he was still a man, and you knew how to deal with those. Had been doing it for years during your bachelor’s degree and, later on, your master’s in business administration and management. Those so-called “sons of” or “self-made men” proliferated in Harvard, waiting for one thing only: for you to recognize them without ever needing to introduce themselves.

But because you desperately needed this job and hadn’t gone through three interviews for nothing, you swallowed your pride, smiled, and extended your hand.

“Mr. Webber, it’s an honour to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss L/N. Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m afraid time is not on our side right now. I do hope you had a moment to look over the contract HR sent you.”

He led you to his office, cluttered with paperwork. You winced at the chaos, resisting the urge to bring order to the madness. Instead, you sat down, crossed your legs, and pulled the employment contract from your folder.

Your very own Holy Grail.

“Here’s my copy. Initialled and signed.”

You had shed a few tears as you slid the pen across the page—a strange blend of relief and frustration. One of those emotions only fate itself could concoct. Because you had not planned this. Not at all. For years, you had envisioned yourself as a talent agent, maybe a manager at a publicly traded company—but certainly not the personal assistant to one Oscar Piastri, whose name you hadn’t even known three weeks earlier.

When life gives you lemons, learn to make lemonade or suffer their bitterness, your grandmother used to say.

You had chosen your side quickly, picked the lemons yourself, pressed them, sweetened the juice, and learned to savour the taste. You who had never liked citrus fruits had now convinced yourself to see in that pale yellow flesh a sign of future success, of stability.

How many lemon trees would you need to harvest before your parents got used to the sourness?

Watching their prodigy of a daughter become a ‘rich man’s servant’, after paying for five years at Harvard, was a truth they struggled to swallow—a sourness lodged in the throat, leaving behind the bitter tang of defeat.

When you had graduated summa cum laude, your parents had imagined you’d be drowning in job offers. But reality hit hard. Brutally hard. Intelligence alone wasn’t enough. The world’s best companies didn’t hire without connections, and you had none.

The first disillusionment in life stings like nothing else.

So, you had to swallow your pride, lower your standards, and look elsewhere. Anything, really—anything but unemployment and long days spent contemplating the wreckage of your ambitions.

Anything but failure.

The job description had arrived in your inbox amid hundreds of others. That night, you had drunk two glasses of red wine—maybe more—your cheeks streaked with mascara and the remnants of your frustration. You had received two rejections that very morning. Overqualified, they had said.

Bullshit, you replied. They just didn’t want to pay you what your degrees were worth.

For months now, you had been suffering—stuck in this purgatory. Too qualified for some roles, not enough for others. The adjectives varied, but the outcome remained the same. You barely needed to read the emails anymore. You knew the words by heart.

After reviewing your profile, and despite its many strengths, we have decided not to move forward with your application.

It was with those words echoing in your mind that you clicked on the job offer. Personal Assistant. Your eyes widened at the jaw-dropping salary and the list of benefits.

“What the actual fuck?” you mumbled.

Suddenly sobered, you sat up straight and read the required qualifications eagerly, a flicker of hope warming your chest for the first time in weeks. The words were generic—experience, organisation, management, flexibility—but you welcomed their familiarity.

Your internship with one of New York’s top CEOs—the one your classmates had mocked, claiming “it wasn’t a real internship with real responsibilities”—was finally proving useful.

You took another long sip of wine and hastily drafted a cover letter, attached your resumé, and submitted them via the designated portal.

The next day, you received an email with an interview date.

A month later, you found yourself in the heart of London, ready to sign your first real contract—no matter what your parents thought on the matter.

You blinked away the sound of their voices. You wouldn’t let a few bitter scraps of lemon zest ruin what was beginning to look like a stroke of fate. Instead, you watched Mr. Webber sign the contract. With each initial written on the paper, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders.

That’s it, you thought. I have a job.

Yes, being a personal assistant wasn’t the career you had dreamt of; yes, you were overqualified—but it was still a job. And a well-paid one. Probably better than a quarter of your former classmates now working as marketing consultants.

Mark Webber capped his pen and smiled at you.

“Well then, welcome aboard.”

You couldn’t suppress the laugh of pure relief that shook your shoulders as you tucked the signed contract back into the folder.

Webber rummaged through the chaos on his desk and pulled from its depths a rectangular white box, which he slid across to you. A brand-new iPhone 14.

“Here’s your work phone. I’ve already inserted the SIM card. I don’t know if you’ve worked with this kind of setup before, but it’s a bit different from a regular iPhone—more secure, more restricted. Oh, and I almost forgot the most important part: HR should send you an email within the next couple of days with information you need to have, including Oscar’s number.”

“Of course.”

“You’ll meet him soon enough. I’d like the two of you to feel comfortable around each other as soon as possible. It’s his first season as a full-time driver and his first time working with a personal assistant. I want everything to go smoothly.”

“Naturally.”

Mark Webber sank back into his chair, eyes fixed on you. You held his gaze. He smiled.

“I’ve got a good feeling about you. I had it the moment I saw your CV.”

“I won’t let you down,” you promised.

Just like Mark—who had insisted you call him that—had said, the meeting with Oscar came swiftly. An email arrived in your inbox four days after your interviews, listing a time and an address.

Six days later, as winter tightened its grip on England with sharp winds and grey skies, you wandered through the deserted streets of Hertford for several minutes before stumbling upon a building that looked quintessentially British—red brick walls, single-hung white windows—the kind your grandparents had once lived in. It was unremarkable, to the point that you wondered if you had typed in the wrong address in Maps. Didn’t Formula 1 drivers earn outrageous salaries?

A gust of wind stung your cheeks. You pulled your coat tighter around you and pressed the doorbell labeled “O. Piastri.” The ink on the name was nearly washed away, chased by the rain and all the other pleasantries of English weather. Mother Nature herself seemed determined to guard his anonymity.

“You can come up. Third floor, last door on the left.”

Mark’s voice crackled through the intercom, as though his client had no voice of his own. Your mind wandered: would he sound the same, or had his years in England worn away his accent, like the ink on his doorbell?

Apartment 3B’s door appeared sooner than you expected, leaving you no time to steel yourself. This was a decisive moment. If Oscar Piastri didn’t like you—if he deemed you unfit for any reason—they would terminate your probationary period, and you would be cast back into the labyrinth of professional limbo.

I just need him to like me. Simple enough, right?

As you adjusted the collar of your sweater, the door opened to reveal Mark. He greeted you with a nod and stepped aside. You didn’t spare a glance for the apartment. Instead, your eyes fell immediately on the young man seated at the table. Your gazes locked.

You gulped.

You had read Oscar Piastri’s Wikipedia page, of course. Before you became an assistant, you had been a student, and if there was one thing you had mastered during that time, it was research. You had stuck only to the facts, never clicking on the suggested videos or press interviews—resolute in forming your own impression.

“Hello. I’m Y/N, pleased to meet you.”

“Oscar.”

Your handshake offered little reassurance, nor did the driver’s impassive expression. You swallowed again and instinctively hugged your notebook to your chest before taking a seat opposite him.

You listened half-heartedly as Mark launched into a stream of benign, reassuring remarks—an overview of your role you had already read over multiple times. Realizing you wouldn’t need to speak, you let yourself drift from the monologue and instead studied the boy you would be working for, scanning his impassive face for any hint on your potential dynamic.

Like many, you had seen The Devil Wears Prada, and while you were aware you weren’t going to work for Vogue, Formula 1 seemed every bit as cutthroat as the fashion world—catfights and sabotage didn’t seem far-fetched in a microcosm so thoroughly built by and for men.

“So, that’s everything,” Mark concluded. “Any questions?”

Oscar shook his head. You mirrored the gesture.

You both shook hands again, before you left Hertford with a new file in your handbag and a knot in your stomach.

December faded; January dawned, bringing with it a new year and its obligations. You moved to Hertford, into a small townhouse not far from Oscar’s apartment, though you never found the courage to cross the neighborhood that separated you.

Instead, you improvised a home office on your dining table, where you set up your laptop and phone—devices you would stare at for hours, waiting for the screen to light up, though it never did despite the messages you had sent Oscar.

Would you like me to order a coffee for your video call with Zak Brown?

Do you need anything specific before your trip to Monaco?

When are you planning to leave for Australia? I’ll book the tickets.

You always left your ringer on, even through the night. Just in case he calls, you told yourself. But it never came. No calls. No messages. No requests. Just silence—heavy—and that infuriating “seen” icon.

At least Mark had the decency to keep you in the loop regarding Oscar’s upcoming obligations. The driver himself had all but vanished. His absence brewed a storm of emotions in you.

First doubt. Then anger.

Did Oscar think you incompetent? Did he consider himself above you?

You lasted a week before you snapped. One week of avoidance. One week of “seen.” One week of voicemails.

You retreated from your desk to your bed, turned off your ringer, and replaced calls and messages with emails—though those, too, went unanswered.

From: Y/N L/N < y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com > To: Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@mclaren.uk > CC: Mark WEBBER < mark.webber@oscarpiastri.com > Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@oscarpiastri.com > Subject: London–Australia Flight / Dec 14, 10:30

Dear Oscar,

Please find attached your outbound ticket to Melbourne, departing from London Gatwick on Dec 14 at 10:30 AM. A taxi has been booked to pick you up at 7:00 AM.

Let me know your preferred return date, and I’ll handle the booking promptly.

P.S. Don’t forget your Zoom meeting with Mr. Ellis Woodward from McLaren HR on Dec 18 at 9:30 AM London time (6:30 PM Melbourne time). Here's once again the link: https://zoom.us/j/814553

Wishing you happy holidays.

Kind regards, Y/N L/N y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com

[Attachment: Flight_OPiastri_LGWMEL_1412.pdf]

From: Y/N L/N < y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com > To: Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@mclaren.uk > CC: Mark WEBBER < mark.webber@oscarpiastri.com > Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@oscarpiastri.com > Subject: Offlane B.V. Meeting

Oscar,

Offlane would like to schedule a video call to discuss your website’s new branding. Mark emphasized that it should be handled before the New Year. Please let me know your availability.

Attached are the proposed designs for your review.

Regards,

Y/N L/N y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com

[Attachment: OSCARPIASTRI_FINAL_1224.zip]

From: Y/N L/N < y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com > To: Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@mclaren.uk > CC: Mark WEBBER < mark.webber@oscarpiastri.com > Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@oscarpiastri.com > Subject: Schedule & Meeting Change / Dec 30–Jan 5

Please find attached your schedule for the week. I’ve managed to free up Dec 31 to Jan 2.

Note that your meeting with Thomas Rogers from McLaren’s comms department has been moved from 7:30 PM to 8:30 PM (Melbourne time).

Y/N L/N y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com

[Attachment: Schedule_OP_06120125.pdf]

“I don’t understand why you hired me if Oscar flat-out refuses my help," you said one day, matter-of-factly. “He won’t even answer my emails.”

On your MacBook screen, Mark sighed. The sound crackled harshly in your ears. You grimaced, but quickly composed yourself, afraid he’d take the gesture personally, before turning the volume down and glancing around.

You had chosen this café for its peace. The barista was humming a familiar tune as he prepared lattes, and the only other customer was far too engrossed in her novel to care about you.

You found comfort in this silence. It was unlike the one at home—less oppressive, more soothing.

Your latte, sweetened with vanilla syrup, was going cold. Yet even masked by sugar, you couldn’t get rid of the bitterness that had seeped into all your meals.

Lately, the lemons life gave you were either underripe or rotten. Oscar Piastri had spoiled the lemonade recipe you had spent years perfecting. You had forgotten its tangy sweetness and were now biting into the bitter rind of failure.

“Oscar is... a guarded young man,” Mark replied after a suffocating pause. “That mess with Alpine and his contract didn’t help. From his perspective, you could betray him just like they did. McLaren are the only one he trusts right now. I think that’s why he’s counting on their PR assistant for now.”

You frowned. The statement stung more than you cared to admit. Mark must have sensed it, because he quickly added: “But don’t worry—I’ll speak to him. Things will improve. Whether he likes it or not, he needs an assistant. I’ve made that clear. Everything’s about to speed up come late January, and I want him focused on racing.”

“Then why didn’t you ask McLaren to hire someone if he trusts them so much?” you asked, your tongue thick with resentment.

“Because a contract is just that. A contract. It expires and no one knows what tomorrow will bring. I want him to trust someone outside of that system. And if that means we pay your salary ourselves, so be it. It’s worth it. Loyalty is rare in this sport. I want to give it a chance to bloom without any influence.”

You nodded, but a lump had settled in your throat. Guilt. On your parents’ advice, you had begun quietly looking for other jobs.

You can’t go on like this, they’d told you. You deserve respect. And painful as it was to admit—they were right.

“I understand,” you finally said. “And I understand his trust issues. God knows I’ve been betrayed more than once during internships. I don’t blame him for that. But I’d appreciate it if he at least acknowledged my emails.”

“I’ll speak to him,” Mark repeated. “In the meantime, keep doing your job. I see every email you send, and I want to commend you—not just for your efficiency and initiative, but for your professionalism despite Oscar’s behaviour. Your efforts are not in vain.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you simply nodded. It was hard to accept praise when the one person you were meant to work for gave you no recognition at all.

“I have to go. McLaren call in five minutes. Keep it up—I’ll handle Oscar.”

Your tired and discouraged face stared back at you on the black screen. You sighed, took a sip of cold coffee, and began typing a new email.

From: Y/N L/N < y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com > To: Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@mclaren.uk > CC: Mark WEBBER < mark.webber@oscarpiastri.com > Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@oscarpiastri.com > Subject: Quad Lock

Oscar,

As Mark and your new McLaren PR assistant may have informed you, Quad Lock (an Australian brand for sports phone mounts) is interested in sponsoring you in 2023.

They’re only available on Thursday, January 16 at 10:30 AM, but you’re scheduled for a padel session then. Would you prefer I reschedule, or can you make yourself available?

Y/N L/N y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com

That evening, you nearly choked on your red wine when your phone buzzed. You immediately recognized the sound—your inbox—and tapped the notification with a trembling finger.

"What the fuck?"

From: Oscar PIASTRI < oscar.piastri@mclaren.uk > To: Y/N L/N < y/n.l/n@oscarpiastri.com > CC: Mark WEBBER < mark.webber@oscarpiastri.com > Subject: RE: Quad Lock

Jan 16 works. Cancel padel.

Oscar

You ended up staring at the screen for far too long. Since when did a simple email affect you so deeply? You had studied at Harvard, for God’s sake. Interned at prestigious firms. Yet here you were—shaken by a curt reply from a bull-headed driver.

If your parents could see you now, they’d sigh.

You typed a reply, erased it, retyped the same one, changed a word, fixed a typo, then—uncertain—rewrote it altogether.

Then deleted it again.

And finally typed: “Thanks, I’ll inform them.”

You tossed your phone across the bed and drained your wine in one big gulp.

You didn’t know what to make of the sudden shift, but one thing was certain: you could count on Mark. And there was nothing more reassuring than not feeling alone in your corner.

You longed for the sense of excitement that had animated you when you had signed your contract in this very office, just a few weeks ago. The golden plaque on the door still bore Mark’s name but it no longer gleamed as it had that first day. It appeared dull now—faded, even.

He had summoned you to discuss Oscar’s upcoming first days with McLaren, and the logistical arrangements it would require.

Upon your arrival, the secretary had promptly informed you that the Australian would be running late. Something about a meeting “too important to be cut short.”

So, you had sat down in one of the waiting room chairs and begun flipping through your notebook to review the brief Mark had sent two days prior. But muffled voices soon broke your concentration.

You looked up. The office door stood slightly ajar.

You immediately recognized Mark’s voice. Another, deeper and more assertive, kept interrupting him.

Oscar.

Eyes wide, you gently closed your notebook and placed it on the seat beside you before moving closer to the door.

“This can’t go on,” said Mark. “Besides your blatant lack of professionalism, you're making things harder for yourself on purpose.”

“I don’t need an assistant.”

They’re talking about me, you realized.

You swallowed hard and leaned in.

“And I’m telling you that you do. You’re stepping into the big leagues, Oscar. That means four times the responsibilities, four times the meetings. Your little Google Calendar might’ve worked in F2 and in 2022, but that’s no longer the case. You need someone.”

“That’s why you’re here.”

“I’m here to help you negotiate contracts, not book your flights or your hair appointments. I have enough on my plate as it is, and you do too. You’re literally starting at McLaren in two weeks!”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But why Y/N?”

 “Why not?”

“I’ve read her résumé. She doesn’t belong here,” he spat.

You recoiled. The words stung, not just because of what he said, but how he said it. You had expected indifference from Oscar, but never cruelty.

“You can complain all you want,” Mark replied coolly. “It won’t change a damn thing. She is your assistant—and given the excellent work she’s done despite your shitty attitude, she will remain as such. So get used to seeing her around.”

“Whatever,” Oscar muttered.

Silence followed, then soft but steady footsteps.

Your stomach twisted. You scrambled back to your seat, notebook now trembling in your damp hands. Your heartbeat was so loud you could feel it pounding in your temples.

Oscar soon appeared in the doorway. His dark eyes immediately found yours. You froze, gaze fixed on a blurry sentence, your heart in your throat.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stop. His stare scorched the right side of your face. Your cheeks burned—whether from fury or adrenaline, you couldn’t say. Perhaps both.

After what felt like an eternity, the driver turned and walked away. Without a word. As always.

He didn’t even have the decency to say it to my face, you thought.

Something inside you cracked at that realization—the last stronghold of patience, the final tower of understanding.

Rage surged through your veins and turned your chest into a battlefield. Amid the carnage, a voice pierced your armour. You looked up and saw Mark, one hand on the door handle.

“Are you coming?”

You followed him into the office mechanically, sat down in the leather chair, opened your notebook, nodded silently at every sentence he spoke, scribbled down notes you knew you would never read, and asked no questions.

More than once, Mark raised an eyebrow at your uncharacteristic silence, but you deliberately ignored his questioning glances.

Gone was the eager assistant, determined to prove herself, always anticipating her client’s needs. In her place sat a woman with furrowed brows and brisk, sharp movements—hardened by a fresh wave of anger.

One of the first management courses you had taken at Harvard had introduced the idea of professional archetypes. Who was motivated by emotion? Rewards? Everyone prided themselves for their individuality, their uniqueness, but, at the end, we all fell a category. And you knew you thrived for acknowledgment—something Oscar had never given you. Not once.

And that hurt.

So no, you didn’t feel guilty for not listening during the meeting. Mark continued with his verbose explanations, but you knew the spiel…

Oscar’s debut at McLaren was fast approaching. It would be a critical moment—for him, for Mark, for you.

And yet, despite knowing all that, you couldn’t bring herself to care.

She doesn’t belong here.

At the memory of those words, you tightened your grip on your pen.

“Y/N,” Mark said eventually, his tone tentative. “About Oscar… I think we’re finally getting somewhere.”

You stifled a bitter laugh and nodded. He eventually dismissed you, realizing you had nothing further to say, and you didn’t hesitate to walk out—slamming the door behind you, decorum be damned.

Once home, you glanced at your makeshift desk on the dining table, then at your work phone—silent, as always.

That was the final straw—the dark screen.

On impulse, you reached out to your cousin, a doctor.

One of your professors had once spoken at length about the value of networking and connections. You finally understood the importance of those when, thirty minutes later, a five-day medical leave form landed in your inbox.

You forwarded it to Mark, turned off your phone, and threw it into a drawer.

If Oscar didn’t need you, then he could handle his McLaren debut on his own.

During the first two days, you didn’t leave your bed. You stayed under the covers and ignored the world outside—though the latter seemed determined not to ignore you. Your parents kept sending you links to job offers, and Mark had started calling your personal number.

On the third day, someone knocked.

Oscar.

The moment you saw him standing there, you didn’t think—you tried to slam the door in his face. But the driver was faster—damn reflexes—and caught it with one hand.

“We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Please.”

That one word made you falter.

“I know you took medical leave,” he continued. “Mark told me. I also know you’re not really sick and it’s because of me.”

That caught your attention. Oscar took advantage of the hesitation and slipped through the gap. You protested, pushed against his chest to get him out, but you were no match to his strength.

Soon, Oscar Piastri was standing in your apartment.

The sight was so surreal you blinked, convinced you were hallucinating. But no, he was real and had just turned your worst nightmare into reality.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he said. “I was an asshole.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Understatement of the fucking year.”

Oscar took your hand and held it in his.

Your eyes widened.

“I thought I didn’t need an assistant, but I was wrong.”

You rolled your eyes before pulling away.

“Oh, right. So what? You had some epiphany while I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

“I missed three meetings with McLaren and was late to two others because I didn’t get your reminder emails.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Mark didn’t send anything?”

It was surprising, given how insistent he’d been about professionalism before Oscar’s debut.

“He said it was to ‘help me realize how much I fucked up.’”

You stifled a smile as a warm wave washed over you—part pride, part relief. Mark had stood up for you. Your heart felt just a little lighter.

You looked up at Oscar.

But then a memory—sharp and cold—soured the moment.

“You said I didn’t belong there,” you whispered.

You hated yourself for voicing it, for letting the insecurity slip through. The same one your parents had spent years nurturing.

A heavy silence followed.

“You heard us,” he simply said. “Mark and me. The other day.”

It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t answer. Oscar ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“You don’t belong here. That’s true.”

You opened your mouth in disbelief.

“Did you read your résumé?” he went on, undeterred.

“What kind of stupid question is–”

“Because I did,” he cut you off. “And you’re overqualified. You graduated from Harvard, for fuck’s sake! You deserve so much more than being my personal assistant.”

For the first time, you were speechless.

“But I guess I’m selfish,” he sighed. “I still think you deserve better, but now that I know how much I need you, I don’t want you to leave.”

He stepped closer.

“So please, forgive me. I’ll give you a raise—just name your price. But don’t quit.”

You hesitated, frozen in the middle of your living room, facing a visibly nervous Oscar. Were you making a mistake? Giving in too easily? What if this was just a momentary change of heart? What if, in three weeks’ time, everything went back to how it was?

As if reading your thoughts, Oscar took another step and rushed to reassure you.

“I’ll try harder. I’ll communicate better. I’ll learn to trust you.”

“And reply to my emails?”

He smiled, and the sight of those bunny teeth softened something in your chest.

“That too.”

You had come to love this job in the past weeks. It quenched your thirst of order and precision. And, Oscar aside, it was relatively simple.

The salary didn’t hurt either.

“You have no self-respect, woman,” you muttered under your breath before taking a deep breath and speaking aloud. “Fine.”

You said it quickly, as if speaking too slowly would give regret the time to catch up.

Maybe forgiving him wasn’t the best decision. Maybe your first impression hadn’t been good either.

Maybe you had both made mistakes.

“What?”

“I said, fine.”

Oscar looked as though he wanted to hug you—you saw it in the way his muscles tensed—but he thought better of it and rested a hand on your shoulder instead.

“Thank you.”

Yoy offered him a small smile and straightened up. Oscar’s hand fell back to his side.

“Well… Let’s start over, shall we?”

You held out a hand.

“Hello, I’m Y/N. I’ll be your personal assistant. If you need anything, I’m here.”

Oscar took it and gave it a gentle shake.

“Hi, I’m Oscar and I won’t screw up this time.”

Woking was a rather dreary town, you concluded as you watched its brick buildings pass by through the window of Oscar’s car. A typical English town, with uniform neighbourhoods and a colour palette of browns and whites.

“Feeling nervous?” you asked, glancing at Oscar’s hands, clenched so tightly around the steering wheel they were turning white.

“Yes."

“Good. It would’ve been strange if you weren’t. It means you care.“"”

He sighed and turned down the radio.

“Mark warned me they’d drown me with information. I’m worried I won’t remember anything and that I’ll come across as a rookie.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Just try to remember the essentials, and I’ll take care of the rest,” you replied, giving your black notebook a shake.

The movement caught Oscar’s attention, and he glanced away from the road for a second. He hummed in acknowledgment, and silence settled once again over the car.

There remained in your interactions traces of your chaotic beginnings. The team-building week Mark had forced you into, squeezed into the slim window of time leading up to today, had helped, but one didn’t simply erase a month of mutual silence with the wave of a wand.

Both of you had promised Oscar’s manager to try. You had sealed the pact without hesitation—anything was preferable to playing yet another damned escape room.

Oscar eventually gestured toward the notebook with a nod.

“You’ll need an orange one.”

You clutched it to your chest with a grimace. Loose pages and stray Post-its crinkled against your wool winter coat. It was an organized chaos of contracts and printed emails—a reflection of the turbulent start to Oscar’s F1 career, and their own beginnings.

“It’s not even full yet! And I don’t like orange.”

“A sticker, then.”

You pursed your lips.

“I suppose. But only if I get to pick the design.”

‘It has to be related to the team or me, though.”

“It is related to you. It contains your entire life for the next eight months.”

Oscar cut the conversation short when he took a sharp turn.

“Look—we’re here.”

You blinked at the building.

What kind of Avengers shit is this?

The building looked like it had been plucked straight from the future and placed with uncanny precision beside the lake. Everything about it exuded innovation and ambition—the kind of place you had imagined yourself working for after graduating.

Today, you were entering it as a mere personal assistant.

A part of you felt bitter at the thought, but you quickly buried the feeling when Oscar opened his door and offered you a hand.

Mark was already waiting at the entrance, flanked by a man you recognized as Zak Brown, and another with tanned skin and graying hair.

“Andrea Stella, the team principal,” Oscar murmured in your ear, seeing your confused expression.

Zak and Andrea greeted you politely—nothing more—before turning their full attention to Oscar. Mark, on the other hand, walked over to you with a sly smile on his thin lips.

“You managed the drive without killing each other? I’m impressed.”

As if he hadn’t just forced the two of you into a three-hour tug-of-war last Wednesday…

You all entered the building together. You were left speechless by the modern architecture and followed the group of men on autopilot. Very quickly, Oscar began meeting the team—one person after another. The receptionists. The mechanics. The engineers. The technicians. The designers. You jotted down as much as you could in your little notebook, but even you soon felt overwhelmed, your wrist aching.

“Of course you know Cecilia, your PR assistant,” announced Zak Brown as they entered the office area.

That was enough to catch your attention. You snapped your head up so fast your neck cracked. You couldn’t help narrowing your eyes, givng a once-over to the woman who’d had such a good job back in November. Beside you, Mark stifled a laugh.

“Careful—you almost look jealous.”

“I don’t care.”

But you couldn’t hide your satisfied smile as you observed the interaction between the two—cordial and awkward.

Take that, Cecilia.

“Ah!” Zak exclaimed. “Just the man we were looking for! Lando, come meet your new teammate.”

You rose onto your toes to catch sight of the newcomer.

Of course, you knew who Lando Norris was. A McLaren driver since 2019 and now Oscar’s teammate. Nothing more—just the essentials. That was enough. Memorizing the information Mark and Oscar fed you already took up a quarter of your time; you didn’t have room for another driver.

He shook hands with everyone with the ease of someone familiar in his environment. There was no hesitation in his movements, just a quiet confidence.

“Nice to meet you, Oscar.”

“Likewise.”

The Australian stepped aside, revealing you behind him. Your eyes met. Lando’s widened.

“And this is—”

But before Oscar could introduce you, Lando stumbled and fell at your feet.

You blinked. Then rushed to help him. Your knees hit the smooth floor, but you had no time to feel the pain; your hand quickly found the Brit’s shoulder.

“My God! Are you alright?”

Lando sprang back up and recoiled from your touch as though burned, his face flushed crimson.

“Y-yes,” he stammered, eyes fixed on the floor.

He mumbled words you didn’t catch—something about an engineer and a meeting—then spun around and disappeared down the corridor.

You blinked once, twice, then shook your head and hurried to rejoin the group for the rest of the tour, which lasted another two long hours.

“Lando…” you began once you and Oscar were back in the car.

“What about him?”

“He’s a bit… odd, don’t you think?”

Oscar shot you a quick glance before focusing back on the road. Already, the McLaren Technology Centre was nothing more than a vague grey blur in the rearview mirror. The engine roared, churning your stomach—or perhaps that was the regret creeping onto your tongue.

You and Oscar weren’t yet close enough for you to speak so freely. What would he think of you, openly criticizing his future teammate?

“I suppose,” he admitted, to your utmost relief. “I haven’t really had the chance to talk with him yet. We’re planning to meet up before the first tests. He mentioned something about padel.”

You pulled your notebook from your bag and uncapped your fountain pen, glad for the change in topic.

“Do you already have a date in mind?”

Oscar rolled his eyes.

[helaintoloki]

Hiii! First of all, I really like the way you write, hope you're doing so good.

Have you ever think about Bucky meeting reader and like, is the cliché thing of "he fell first and hard"? but reader was never aware of it. She never pursued anything. Not that she didn't find Bucky handsome, charming or anything but she thought he wouldn't want a relationship after everything he went through.

a/n: i am such a sucker for bucky pining over oblivious reader you have no idea anon. i hope you like how this came out!

warnings: pining, fluff, bucky is a bit insecure, subtle angst

summery: Bucky has loved you for as long as he’s known you, but he’s not willing to risk your friendship by telling you that. thankfully, you take matters into your own hands

Bucky Barnes could recall the exact moment he realized he had feelings for you.

You’d only been an Avenger for a month and had just completed your first mission. Beaten down and sore beyond relief, the team had gathered around the common room to indulge in cheap takeout and rehash the events of the assignment. You mostly remained quiet, blending into the background while avidly gathering wisdom from the veteran members and taking note of the pointers they gave each other.

Then Sam cracked such an absurdly stupid joke you found yourself laughing so hard water shot out of your nose and straight onto a horrified Tony. All eyes were suddenly on you, and while most would have cracked from the pressure of such an embarrassing moment so early on in your career, it only served to make you laugh harder. Soon the whole room was filled with laughter and aching smiles, and you found yourself settling comfortably amongst your new teammates.

Your unabashed confidence and the ability to make yourself right at home with the team caught his attention immediately, and he spent the rest of the night trying to catch another glimpse of your smile or hear you laugh at Sam’s terrible jokes. Though he wasn’t one to buy into the whole notion of “love at first sight,” Bucky knew he was smitten, and he knew there was no going back.

Of course, Bucky never dared to speak these thoughts aloud, and despite his very strong feelings for you he remained stoic and professional around you, or at least as professional as he could be given your playful and alluring nature. Despite initially trying to keep his distance in an attempt to extinguish his feelings, you never seemed to leave him alone. You clung to Bucky the most out of all your teammates, and after a while he eventually gave up trying to stay away. However, becoming your closest friend and confidant only made his feelings worse, and every day that passed by your side only made his feelings grow stronger.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed you were none the wiser to his feelings, and Bucky felt there was no chance you’d ever reciprocate them, so he kept quiet and convinced himself he was fine with just being your friend.

Even if being your friend involved late night slumber party activities the evening before a mission.

“Wouldn’t Natasha or Wanda have been better suited for this?” Bucky grumbles while you gently comb a brush through his hair, your legs dangling over the edge of your mattress and resting on his shoulders as he sits on your plush throw rug beneath you.

“Natasha spends the night before a mission alone to clear her head, and Wanda likes to meditate with Vision,” you state plainly before setting aside your brush so you can begin to section his hair.

“And how is this supposed to help you prepare?” Bucky questions skeptically, putting on an annoyed front despite the fact that he very much likes the feel of your fingers gently raking against his scalp. No matter how often he pretended to be inconvenienced by your shenanigans, he’d never say no to anything you asked him. You had the man wrapped around your finger, and the worst part was you didn’t even know it.

“It helps me take my mind off of things so I’m not so nervous going into it,” you explain with a sheepish shrug. “It relaxes me. And… it also makes me fight harder to make sure I come home alive.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky prompts more seriously now, tone devoid of his previous combativeness. Your hands falter for a moment, causing the braid you’d worked so meticulously on to slowly fall apart until his hair falls back against his shoulders, but you don’t seem to mind.

“I mean… I don’t want this to be the last time I braid your hair or make you watch my movie recommendations with me. You’re important to me, Bucky. You know that, right?”

Your confession shoots straight to his heart, and Bucky finds himself harshly swallowing down the butterflies that begin to flutter obnoxiously in his stomach. You’ll never how much your words mean to him or how badly he wants to profess that he would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe. You are everything to him, but he doesn’t dare tell you this.

Instead, Bucky gently gives your calf a squeeze and lets his flesh hand rest upon your ankle.

“I know.”

You smile faintly and resume braiding his hair. You know Bucky isn’t one to be mushy or overly affectionate, so you don’t push the conversation any longer. You’re happy to sit in the quiet of your room away from the others, to enjoy this moment of peace before being thrust into chaos, and you know he feels the same.

“After this, do you want to watch a movie? I think it’s time you finally experience Napoleon Dynamite.”

“If it’ll keep you from bugging me about it for the next few weeks then yes,” Bucky responds sarcastically despite the grin that desperately fights to play itself upon his lips.

He knows you both should be getting to bed early for a night of rest, but he can’t find it in himself to protest.

Whatever it takes to make you happy.

~~~

You throw yourself back against the side of an abandoned car and fumble through your pack for another round of ammunition while Bucky covers your flank. You have no idea where the rest of the team is, but you hope they’re fairing better than the two of you are right now.

You’d been sent to rescue a group of hostages from a human trafficking ring intending to supply unwilling test subjects to scientists for illegal human experimentation. Corrupt people around the world would pay a fortune for their own genetically engineered super hero, and you were here to stop that from happening. You and Bucky were assigned to assist in the evacuation efforts, transporting people to a secondary location where a rescue team would later arrive to deliver them to a hospital. Though you’d been able to clear the area, you’d been ambushed by a group of soldiers and forced to take cover.

“Would you kill me if I told you I grabbed the wrong bag?” You implore guiltily after coming up empty handed. Your pack was full of medical supplies and rations, but not a single ounce of ammo could be found.

“I think these guys would probably get to you first before I could anyway,” Bucky replies humorlessly while ducking down to reload his gun. He’s running out of clips and you both know it.

Groaning, you let your head fall back against the car and pinch your eyes shut as you try to think of a new plan.

“I might have something, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Anything is better than dying,” he grits through his teeth as a bullet pierces the tire next to him. He watches as you reach into your bag and produce a speciality made grenade. Bucky’s eyes widen in disbelief when he looks from the bomb then to you. “Where the hell did you get that?!”

“I might have swiped it from Tony’s work desk,” you offer with a sheepish shrug before cautiously handing it over to him. “I thought it looked cool, but I have no idea if it works. It could at least buy us some time to make an escape if it doesn’t manage to blow us up first.”

“We’ll just have to test our luck,” Bucky says before turning to you with a serious look on his face. His tone of voice is more stern now, signaling for you to fall in line and heed his every word without question. You sometimes forget he was once a Sargent, but you can see now why people had an easy time trusting him as a leader. You never doubted Bucky’s ability to keep you safe, and this time was no different. “I’m going to pull the pin, and I need you to get down on the ground as soon as possible. I’m going to throw it, and then I’m going to cover you. Do you understand?”

“But what if you-“

“Y/n,” Bucky says sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument. You nod in reluctance and follow his orders as he pulls the pin. Bucky uses all of his strength to launch it across the way at your attackers before immediately dropping down to the ground and draping his body over yours. Curled into a ball, you let him pull you against his chest and shield your head with his metal arm to prevent you from getting hit with any shrapnel.

You can feel the rapid beating of his heart against your cheek as the ground rumbles beneath you from the blast. Your eyes squeeze shut while your hand grips tightly onto his leather vest for support, and you can feel Bucky tighten his hold on you in response. A beat passes before your surroundings still, and you slowly pry your eyes open just as he pulls himself away to look down at you.

“You okay?” He murmurs breathlessly, still coming down from his adrenaline rush. His wide pupils starkly contrast the blue of his irises, and you find yourself getting caught up in his stare as you swallow down your nerves.

“Fine,” you manage to get out. He looks down at you with uncertainty as you slowly reach out and brush his hair back from his face. “You have a cut on your forehead.”

“That’s okay,” he assures you with a faint smile before reluctantly pulling himself off of you and sitting back on his knees. He misses the closeness, but he knows you can’t afford to waste any time right now. The gunfire has stopped and your window to escape will only be open for a short time before the gunmen recover. “Can you run?”

You offer him a single nod before quickly scrambling onto your feet and booking it into the cover of the woods towards the secondary location where the rescued civilians should be waiting for you both. To your luck, the grenade had managed to help you clear a path to escape without disintegrating you both in the process. You run until your legs ache and your lungs burn, until Bucky is sure they aren’t coming after you, and you finally let yourself collapse against a tree to catch your breath.

“I need to start stealing from Tony more often,” you joke despite being out of breath, getting a rare laugh out of Bucky.

“Yeah, thanks to your sticky fingers we’re alive.”

“Why did you do that?” You ask suddenly, eyes meeting Bucky’s with uncertainty as you rest your hands on your knees.

“Do what?”

“Make yourself a human shield for me. You could have been hurt worse than just a cut on the forehead.”

Bucky sighs, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to come up with an answer that doesn’t reveal his unwavering love for you. You look to him expectantly as he moves towards you and rests a firm hand on your shoulder.

“It’s like you said,” he explains with a faint smile, “I didn’t want that to be the last time I let you braid my hair or force me into watching a movie with you.”

You stare up at him in quiet surprise and watch as he begins to make his way towards the secondary location. You hadn’t been expecting that, not even sure he’d remember your conversation from the night before, but here you were being proven wrong. You feel your heart flutter in your chest with longing but quickly shake the feeling away. You and Bucky are friends, always have been, and there’s no way he felt anything but platonic admiration for you as a teammate and confidant. Otherwise, wouldn’t he have made a move already? Besides, for all you knew Bucky didn’t do relationships, and you knew better than to push that boundary.

The rest of the team arrives an hour later, battered and bruised from a grueling fight against the leaders of the trafficking ring. The mission was a success, and now all that was left to do was wait for the rescue team to arrive for the civilians now that the area was cleared as safe.

Bucky keeps to himself while the others rest and chat amongst themselves to pass the time. Leaned against a tree with his arms crossed firmly over his chest, he watches on warmly as you sit crouched a few fit away with a handful of children around you. Your smile is kind and your voice full of light as you keep them entertained while waiting for the medics to arrive, handing out the stickers you keep in your pack for moments like these. They don’t have parents or an adult to cling to for reassurance, so you’ve taken it upon yourself be that comfort for them. Natasha always says you tend to get too attached to civilians you’ll never see again, but you don’t seem to care in the slightest.

“You love her,” Sam’s voice sounds from beside Bucky, startling him out of his moment of peace. It takes him a moment to regain composure, but he’s still quick to put on a hard front for the Falcon.

“Of course I do,” he attempts to brush off, “she’s my teammate.”

“I’m your teammate and you never look at me like that,” Sam quips with a raised brow much to the soldier’s chagrin.

“Whatever you’re trying to say just say it,” Bucky huffs vexedly.

“You’ve been pining after that girl like a lost puppy ever since she joined the team and not once have you had the balls to do anything about it. Why do you insist on torturing yourself like this?”

“You really think someone like me deserves to be with someone like her?” Bucky scoffs in disbelief, clearly believing such a notion to be impossible and outlandish. “I’ve done terrible, awful things. I’ve destroyed relationships and families, so why should I get to have one of my own?”

“That’s not who you are anymore,” Sam attempts to assuage him in vein. “That wasn’t you in the first place. That was Hydra, and you’re not under their control anymore.”

“When I think about what I’ve done- the blood on my hands… how could I dare taint her with my touch? Y/n deserves a good man with his head screwed on right, and that’s not me.”

“You’re wrong,” Sam avows solemnly, “and the sooner you realize that the better.”

Bucky is left to stew with his inner turmoil when Sam departs to check on Natasha. He could never understand just how much Bucky loved you, how his chest ached with longing every time he was around you, how his feelings for you seemed to grow stronger every day without you noticing. He would do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant keeping you safe from himself.

“Bucky!” Your voice calls cheerfully from across the way, a stark contrast to his brooding demeanor. You wave him over with glee, and how can he deny you when you smile at him like that?

“What do you need?” He asks while crouching down beside you, the children reacting to his presence with muffled giggles and shy smiles.

“The kids and I were trying to figure out where to put their new stickers, and we thought maybe they might look nice on your metal arm,” you inform him with a hopeful gleam in your eyes. A huff of amusement falls past his nostrils in response, but he gifts you a single nod before fully seating himself down on the ground.

“I think you’re right,” he agrees to the children’s delight. They immediately gather around the soldier as he extends his arm out and allows them access to their desired canvas. The activity should be able to tide them over until the medics arrive within the next half hour, and Bucky doesn’t mind being their entertainment.

You meet his eyes and mouth a quiet thank you to the man, and it makes it all the more worth it to see you smile at him.

~~~

Bucky lays in bed with his hands folded neatly on his stomach and his eyes focused on the ceiling as he decompresses from the grueling mission. His sore muscles remain tense despite being back at the tower, and a dull ache persists from the gash on his forehead. He wants nothing more than to fall into a dreamless sleep, but rest evades him. Today’s mission had hit particularly close to home for him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the faces of the people he’d saved.

They had almost ended up like him.

A knock on the door saves him from the suffocation of his mental turmoil. He gets out of bed with a groan and pads over to his door only to find you waiting on the other side once it’s opened.

Equipped with a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other, you look up at the man innocently and ask, “Can I crash here tonight?”

“What’s wrong with your own room?” Bucky asks with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

“It’s too quiet in there.”

Nodding in understanding, Bucky opens the door wider and allows you to take refuge in his room. You immediately make yourself comfortable in his bed, choosing to set your things up on the side closest to the wall while still leaving enough room for the super soldier. Once you’re still, he climbs back into bed and lies stiffly beside you, ensuring all of his limbs are kept to himself.

“I can’t stop thinking about those kids,” you voice your thoughts aloud, shifting onto your side to face him.

“We did our job,” Bucky reminds you gently. “We got them out before they could be sold off for human experimentation, and now they have a chance at freedom.”

“I know, I know,” you relent with a quiet sigh. “It’s just… we never get to know what happens to them after. I know we’re supposed to detach and not get too close to civilians during missions like these, but I can’t sleep not knowing if they were returned to their families or if they even had a family to go back to. I can’t deal with the not knowing.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with caring,” he assures you with a careful smile. “You’re the most empathetic person I know, and it’s one of the things I adore about you, but you have to trust that those kids are going to be okay. If anything, you probably helped them smile for the first time since they were captured. That’s a win.”

You smile faintly and offer him a quiet nod in agreement. He has a point, and it alleviates some of the guilt you’ve been carrying since getting on the quinjet and leaving them behind in the care of the rescue team.

“Do you ever think about having any?” You prompt suddenly, clearly taking Bucky off guard.

“Any what?”

“Kids,” you state plainly. The question causes him to shift uncomfortably beside you, and it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts before he can find his answer.

“During the war, I’d see the other soldiers get letters from their wives or hear them share stories about the babies waiting for them at home, and I wanted that,” Bucky admits quietly while absently fidgeting with his fingers. “I told myself once it ended I’d finally try to settle down and start a family of my own.”

The thought brings up unpleasant memories of a distant past and a longing ache for what could have been if things had turned out differently for him. He tries not to let this show, but you know him well enough to see the turmoil brewing within his troubled blue eyes.

“What about now?” you press quietly, almost afraid to rupture the stillness of the room by raising your voice any higher.

“It’s not completely out of the question,” he professes truthfully in spite of his obvious discomfort at speaking so vulnerably. “I don’t know if I’d be a good dad, or if I could even be a good partner after everything I’ve been through, but for the right person I would try.”

He wants to tell you that the right person is you, that he’d get down on one knee and give you a hundred kids if you asked him, but he holds his tongue and instead keeps his gaze firmly planted to the ceiling. It would be too much too soon, and he didn’t want to risk scaring away the only woman he’d ever truly loved. The dream of family and stability would always be out of reach so long as you remained platonic in your feelings towards him, but he was okay with that. He’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all, even if it meant you might someday fall in love with someone else.

“Do… you ever think about it?” Bucky asks to break the silence and shift some of the focus off of himself.

“All the time,” you whisper with a dreamy smile. “I know our line of work isn’t the most conducive for family planning or stability, but one day I’d like to follow in Clint’s footsteps and retire so I can live a life of my own. Maybe get a cottage somewhere quiet and grow old with the perfect partner if I ever find one.”

“Seems like that’s always the missing piece,” Bucky huffs humorlessly, heartstrings tugging at the wistful look clear in your eyes when you shift your gaze back towards him.

“Yeah, perfect partners are scarce for people like us,” you hum dolefully. “But I came to close to it once."

“What?” He breathes out tensely, heart immediately dropping to his stomach at your proclamation. A sense of dread overcomes him despite his best efforts to push the feeling down, and it takes all of his efforts to keep his reaction neutral in spite of the anguish he feels at hearing you confess your heart is set on another.

“I found a man I thought I could build a future with, but I don’t think he’s the relationship type. He never gave me any signs that he was interested, and after a while I realized it wasn’t going to happen.”

“Who was it?” Bucky asks, though he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

“Someone you know,” you answer vaguely, now avoiding his scrutinizing gaze. The pit of dread in his stomach only grows, and he isn’t sure he can handle knowing who the mystery person is.

An awful thought dawns upon him then, and he blurts it out before he can stop himself. “Is it Steve?”

A pregnant pause hovers over you both as Bucky’s words sink in, your silence unnerving him to no end. However, the quiet is immediately broken when you burst into laughter that you unsuccessfully try to muffle with your hand.

“Steve?” You retort incredulously. A deep frown settles across Bucky’s features and he’s immediately defensive.

“What’s so funny?” He prompts. It isn’t so ridiculous to believe your heart could belong to Captain America of all people, and he’s not sure why you’re not taking it seriously.

“You think Steve is the guy? The same Steve that watches I Love Lucy reruns with me and puts extra vegetables on my plate at dinner?”

“Well if not Steve then who?”

“You, Bucky,” you finally blurt with a nervous laugh. His defenses immediately go down while his brain goes into overdrive to process your confession, and your features slowly lose the humor in them as they become more serious. With a sheepish smile, you turn away and reaffirm, “you’re the guy.”

“I’m- you mean me?” He repeats again like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, and he doesn’t. Surely he must have misheard you, or maybe you misspoke.

“Yes, you,” you reiterate in exasperation, clearly embarrassed at having revealed your feelings for your closest friend. “I thought it was obvious. Why else do you think I come into your room like this or spend all of my free time hanging out with you?”

“I thought it was because you saw me as a friend the way you do everyone else.”

“Oh, boy,” you breathe out before sitting yourself up from the bed. “Clearly I shouldn’t have said anything so I’m just going to go back to my own room now-“

“No, wait,” Bucky protests, quickly sitting up and resting a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… it’s kind of hard to believe the woman I’ve been in love with for ages actually feels the same.”

“Wait… you love me?” You repeat softly, hand coming to cover your mouth in quiet shock as you look to him for any sign of insincerity. Instead, you find his blue eyes looking down at you with tender adoration while his lips curl into a careful smile.

“Always have,” he replies gently.

“But you never seemed like the relationship type of guy. You’re always so broody and closed off I figured you like being alone.”

“I’d be any type of guy for you,” Bucky avows while lovingly brushing his metal fingers across your cheek. “You’re everything to me, and I would gladly spend the rest of my life with you if you gave me the chance.”

“Oh, Bucky,” you coo gently, eyes beginning to well with tears as you happily throw your arms around him in a bone crushing embrace. “I can’t believe you, why didn’t you ever tell me?! I love you!”

Bucky wraps his flesh arm around your waist while his metal hand tenderly cradles your head. He laughs off your scolding and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, heart nearly leaping out of his chest from the euphoria he feels at finally being able to tell you the truth. He never once thought this could be possible for him, but having you here in his arms just felt right, like this was the way things were always supposed to be.

“I love you, y/n,” Bucky professes gently, prompting you to pull yourself from the hug to meet his loving gaze. Impulsively, you smash your lips onto his own in a searing kiss, and Bucky is quick to match your pace by pulling you fully into his lap as he melts into your touch. All inhibitions are thrown out the window, and in that moment the only thing Bucky cares to think about is the feel of your lips on his own while your fingers curl into his hair. If he knew it would be like this, he would have confessed a lot sooner.

But you have forever to make up for lost time, and Bucky is okay with that if it means spending the rest of his life being your perfect partner.