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beomiracles · 2 months

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⌞ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 ⌝

DREAM RECALL ⸝⸝ He pulls away from you with a perplexed expression. Then he laughs, it’s short, cruel, he shakes his head. “Don’t be funny”, he mutters as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “You know I have a girlfriend, nerd.” He spits the words out like the venomous bite of a snake. His gaze drops to your unbuttoned blazer, briefly passing the harsh bruises on your chest. — “Don’t think you’re anything else besides a quick fuck.” ⸝⸝

wc ➘ 26k

pairings popular/bully!yeonjun x nerd!reader(fem) college au ! warnings heavy bullying, violence, exploitation, cheating, drinking, yeonjun is an asshole for 80% of this, redemption arc, some angsty scenes, hurt-comfort sort of? this fic contains 3/4 descriptive smut scenes which include — oral (both f & m), penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, a handjob, lots of degrading (reader receiving) but also a splash of praise, some tit groping, implied marking, very soft sex at the end (yeonjun cries a little), reader is inexperienced = virginity loss, + yeonjun teaching her how to give a blowjob as always lmk if I missed any!

#serene adds ✎ my god this fic has taken literal years off my life. But I could not have been happier with the outcome of it !! It's a long one, but I've tried to keep it interesting throughout it all for a lighter read. I'm not one to beg for feedback, but I will actually get down on my knees this time around. Please please comment/reblog or even send asks with your thoughts on it, I need it to be perceived in any way possible !! hehe please enjoy because I have slaved to get this done (if anyone notices the Skins reference in one scene, lets kiss)

(I was also slightly delirious when I read this through ahem...) anyway, ready, set go !

You don’t exactly know how it started. The cheating, the lying, the sleepless nights, the crying, the heartbreak, Choi Yeonjun. One day he was just…there. You had never met anyone like Yeonjun before yet you knew hundreds of people like him. He was everything, he was the cause of your pain, your tears, your self loathe. — But mostly importantly, Yeonjun was your first love. You would always remember him as that. You suppose it might have started on your first day at that college, back when you were only known as the junior transfer.

He was a senior. Perhaps it was a bit cliché, you don’t know, you didn’t think so. But you remember it clearly, the first time you saw him. — The air was hot, suffocatingly so, despite it being early October. Your palms were sweaty, and you squeezed them together as your hands remained neatly clasped in front of you. The eyes of the other students weighed a ton and you felt your knees buckle under the pressure.

Your professor clears his throat as he steps up beside you, gazing out across the classroom. “We have a new student today”, he announces what was already painfully obvious and you felt your cheeks redden further. Apart from a few sniggers here and there, silence follows. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?” His direct question made you flinch as you quickly glanced up from the floor, your gaze flitting between your professor and the large ocean of heads turned in your direction.

Your introduction was meek, the words getting caught in your throat as you stammered out your name. You could almost hear the smirks plastered on their faces as they drank in your fidgety frame. You jump when you feel your teacher's hand on your shoulder, “your new classmate is a year younger than you guys, but due to her impressive work ethic she has finished the majority of her classes already. She will therefore be joining us for the time being.” — His words of praise felt more like a set up for humiliation and you watched as students leaned over to whisper in each other’s ears, grinning at the words being passed around. You could hear the rumors already.

“Why don’t you take the seat over there?” Your new professor points to an empty desk by the very back and you breathe out a small sigh of relief, glad to be shielded from the peering eyes of your new classmates. But just as you’re about to step down and make your way toward the safe haven, you lock eyes with him. — Part of his face was shielded by his dark hair but you could clearly make out his brown eyes, staring right back at your own. He’s quick to catch on to your stare and you watch as his lips stretch into a menacing smirk.

Forcing yourself to look away, you grab onto your bag as you quietly make your way past the many rows of desks. An outstretched foot makes you stumble forward and you barely manage to catch yourself. “Careful”, one of the girls turns in her seat as she eyes you with a not so friendly smile, “wouldn’t want you to fall.” You give her a small nod as you hurriedly continue toward your own desk.

Thankful to have stepped away from the spotlight, you lean back as you let out a small breath. But it wasn’t enough. As class went on you continued to catch the multiple glances thrown your way, the small chuckles, the papers being passed around. It all felt too familiar, and your heart slowly sank. — You pushed the feeling away, focusing on what you did best, studying. Class was a nice distraction, but after an hour and a half it came to an end. And as soon as your professor had shut the door behind him, chaos erupted.

The scraping of chairs against the stone floor filled the classroom as students turned to get a glimpse of you. It didn’t take long for a small half circle to form around you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“How did you do it?”

The first one to speak up was a lanky guy, he leans closer as he studies your uncertain face. Before you could even process the meaning of his question, a girl interrupted him, the same one who had tried to trip you over at the beginning of class. “I bet she slept with them, I mean, she must have.” — Her statement is followed by laughter as people nod in agreement. “But how did you get them in bed?” Another girl asks as she looks you up and down with distaste, “surely it wasn’t whilst looking like that?” More laughter.

Your face might as well have been on fire as you glanced down toward your notes. “What if she drugged them?” Another guy chimes in as he points an accusing finger toward you. Hurriedly you shake your head as your lips part in a reply, a reply that immediately gets stuck in your throat as you’re interrupted.

“You guys are being too harsh.” Another voice speaks up, everyone falls silent and soon the crowd parts as the guy you had made eye contact with earlier steps through. He’s followed by two of his friends and the small group stops by your desk. “It’s obvious you guys”, he exclaims as he leans down to come eyelevel with you. When this close, his sharp eyes somehow felt like daggers, boring into your soul as his lips curled into a smirk.

“She’s a nerd.” He draws out each syllable like it was his last, his lips stretching wider as he sees your face fall. Small gasps and hums of agreement fill the silent room, as if everyone just instantly agreed with whatever he said. “Don’t think of her as anything else”, he drawls, straightening his back once more as he stares you down.

You soon found out that his name was Choi Yeonjun.

⸝⸝

Your first day had only proven to be a small trial of the school year ahead. Word had quickly spread of the transfer student who took classes with the seniors, and wherever you went, you had eyes on you. — You tried your best to keep to yourself, to focus on your studies. That was how you had made it through your previous schools. But it seemed futile here, because no matter how low of a profile you kept, they always found a reason to pick and pull at you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing nerd?” She yells as she shoves you against the red lockers and you groan in pain. You couldn’t remember her name, but you knew that she was a senior too, she sat two rows ahead of you and to the left. — Confused, you look up only to be met with a harsh slap to your face. “Don’t play stupid, I know that’s the last thing you are.” She sneers and your lips part in objection, though no words come out.

The girl signals for her friends to block either side of you, shutting off any escape routes as she rolls up her sleeves. “You think you can just go through my shit like that? That I wouldn’t know?” Her statement baffles you and your eyes widen, “what?” Another slap to your cheek, “right, come on now. Give it back.”

You frown, “give what back?” Her friends on either side of you grip onto your arms and you wince as they twist your limbs. She scoffs, “my lipstick you idiot, I know it was you. Who else would take it? Besides, I’ve seen the way you eye it whenever I put it on.” — While her words were partly true, you did think that her lipstick was really pretty and often found your gaze lingering whenever she picked it up from her bag, you would never stoop to such a level as stealing.

“I didn't steal your lipstick”, you croak out and she lets out a huff of disbelief. She goes off on yet another rant but you’re suddenly distracted as your eyes land on the small group of students walking by.

After your first day, Yeonjun hadn’t addressed you once. He never picked on you, never engaged in gossip about you, he barely even acknowledged your existence. But you knew that he was behind most of what happened to you, because everyone listened to Choi Yeonjun. If he didn’t like what was going on, he would put an end to it, but he never did.

You often saw him in the halls, he was always followed by his two friends. On your second day you had learned that the three of them were practically inseparable. — To his left was a tall guy, his frame could easily tower over just about anyone, yet he trailed behind his friends quietly with his head hung low. If it wasn’t for the scowl on his face whenever someone dared to glance in his direction, you would have assumed that he was just any other student. His name was Choi Soobin, that much you knew.

To his right, was perhaps Soobin’s opposite. He was shorter than his friends, not by much, but it made him stick out. His hair fell in uneven sections across his face and he often brushed it away with his pinky whilst he spoke. Unlike Soobin, Choi Beomgyu talked almost all the time, with the occasional input from Yeonjun. Though few of his words were kindhearted. He often picked on you, his comments were snarky and mean, you only ever caught a break when Yeonjun got fed up.

Then there was Choi Yeonjun, walking in the middle, he gazed ahead as Beomgyu blabbered nonsense into his ear, Soobin following slightly behind them. The Choi’s, that was what people called them. Something to do with their names all being Choi, you thought it was kind of corny. Yet you couldn’t deny the way your eyes lingered on Yeonjun, just a little longer than the rest.

It wasn’t like you thought that he was handsome or anything, but he was nice to look at…you supposed. And even though you knew better than to pay him any mind, it was hard to tear your gaze away from him. Only when he passed you, did you feel your heart stutter. For the first time since your first day here, he looked at you, if only for a brief moment. His gaze flickered over your practically torn limbs and a small smirk etched its way to his lips. — You felt your knees go weak under his eyes and swallowed hard.

Though his attention soon returned to the girl draped under his arm, the same girl that had tried to trip you over on your first day. You had found out that she was his girlfriend, her name was Mimi. She twirled a strand of her hair as she whispered something in his ear and Yeonjun chuckled. — Their small party continued past you as if nothing was wrong before disappearing down the hallway, leaving you to face the fate before you.

⸝⸝

You convinced yourself that it wasn’t a crush, that you simply found him appealing. The topic of crushes stopped being a thing after middle school, right? You, a twenty year old, have a crush? The thought was ridiculous. But no matter what lies you forced into your brain, your heart still beat a little faster whenever he was present, your eyes drifted in his direction and there was nothing you could do to stop them. — So what if you did have a small crush on Choi Yeonjun? It wasn’t going to harm anyone, it wasn’t like you were going to act on it. He had a girlfriend. Whenever you reminded yourself of said fact, a pang of guilt shot through your chest. You know you shouldn’t feel guilty, but it was hard not to. Most of all you felt guilty toward yourself — guilty for letting yourself sink to such a level.

As October went by, you did your best to stay out of the firing line of your classmates, you kept your head down and did your work. And when there was no work left to do, you spent your time looking at Yeonjun. He really was pretty to look at. — You noted the way he would lean back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head before yawning, his eyes momentarily fluttering closed. Usually, he wasted his classes on his phone, or chatting with Beomgyu, it was unusual for him to be doing any of his coursework. Perhaps he didn’t need to, or he simply didn’t care to.

Occasionally, you would catch your name slipping past Beomgyu’s lips, your gaze immediately snapping down to your book as your heart practically beat out of your chest. But no matter how many times he mentioned you, pointed at you, sneered at you, Yeonjun never even as much as turned his head in your direction, simply shrugging along to whatever his friend was saying.

The only time Yeonjun looked at you was when everyone else did. That one time someone poured milk over you in the cafeteria, or when you got a basketball in your face during gym. Only when the whole school pointed and laughed, only then did he spare you a fragment of his attention. And maybe you did like it, maybe you did want him to look at you.

It was kind of pathetic.

What was perhaps even more pathetic was that one offer you hadn’t been able to pass up. It wasn’t like you could say no to your professor either, right? — “I think there are a few students who would benefit from studying together with you.” You blink up at him as you watch your teacher lean back in his chair. This was why he had called you? To be frank you don’t know what you had expected when he asked you to stay behind after class, but this was far from it.

“Studying with me?” You repeat as you point a confused finger toward yourself. Sure you worked hard, but that was because you had your mind set on doing so. You doubted that your classmates would want to spend even a second wasted in your presence.

Your professor sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are a clever girl”, he nods toward your latest test result on his desk and your gaze follows his movement as you swallow. “Not to mention the fact that you are a whole year ahead of your peers.” He then adds with a small smile and you silently thank him, even though you were certain that he could smell the hesitation radiating off of you. “Look, it is not something you have to decide on today”, he begins as he gathers the papers on his desk, “but students like Mr. Choi could definitely use a hand in their studies.”

Your ears perked up at the brief mention of his name, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly your head jerked in the direction of your teacher. Though you did not dare get too ahead of yourself. Shifting on the spot, you softly clear your throat, “Choi…Choi Yeonjun?” Your professor stops to look at you, “why, yes, but you do not have to decide today take the weekend to-”

“I’ll do it.”

⸝⸝

You’ll do it? What a joke.

Your whole weekend was spent pacing back and forth across your room. Teeth gnawing away at your fingernails, your mind wrecked with different scenarios of how that following Monday would play out. What were you honestly thinking, saying yes like that? — With an exasperated groan, you flop down on your bed. Staring at the ceiling, you envision Yeonjun, a furious Yeonjun, or maybe a jeering one, you didn’t know which approach he would take. But surely he wouldn’t be happy once the news reached him, unless they already had?

Briefly you considered calling in sick that Monday. You had never called in sick before, at least you couldn’t remember doing so; recalling the multiple times you had ignored the fever in your body as you marched on to class. Not to mention that time you had the flu and still sat through your three hour long exam. — Were you really considering calling in sick over a mere guy. But it wasn’t just a guy, it was Choi Yeonjun.

Regardless of the situation, you still went to school on Monday. But as soon as you stepped inside the classroom, you could tell that something was different. It was like the air had shifted. And as you made your way to the back of the room, carefully taking your seat, not a single one of your classmates bothered to pick on you. Instead they all occupied themselves with whatever they had in front of them. It was odd to say the least.

In regular fashion, the classroom door swings open during the very last minute as Beomgyu saunters inside. Behind him follows Soobin and Yeonjun, both in the midst of a hushed conversation. You find your gaze instinctively lingering by Yeonjun’s tall frame, fingers twirling your pen mindlessly in your hand. It isn’t until you glance up and find his eyes already boring holes into your own, that you’re suddenly ripped from your trance.

Yeonjun was looking at you. He was actually looking at you, no, he was glaring at you. The realization was enough to send your heart into a frenzy as you swallowed a gulp. His gaze is unwavering as he approaches his desk, still conversing with his friend, but his eyes remain entirely on you. — Sweat builds on your forehead and you grip your pencil tightly. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find yourself to break his gaze. You knew that you were giving him exactly what he wanted by letting his eyes practically tear you apart, so why couldn’t you pull away?

It isn’t until the classroom door opens yet again that he puts out the fire he had momentarily created between the two of you, his eyes shifting toward board as your professor clears his throat, ready to begin today’s lecture. As his monotone voice fills the room, you breathe out a sigh of relief, glad to be out of his sight.

He had to have known by now, the nasty looks he shot you throughout the day were more than telling. For someone who never even paid you as much as a second thought, it was most unusual for Yeonjun’s full attention to be directed toward you. Even during lunch, you could feel his eyes on you as he sat by his usual table. With Mimi on his lap and Beomgyu talking in his ear, his gaze still remained on your slumped figure as you focused on your plate of food.

⸝⸝

Your professor had helped set up today’s session, but after that you would have to schedule them on your own. You were supposed to meet by the library, at 5:15pm that Monday. — You were there by 4:55. It took you about five minutes to pick a suitable table, not too close to the door, not in a corner somewhere, but also not in the center of the room, perhaps you were overthinking it. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Desperately you tried to calm your nerves as your trembling hands brought out your notebook and pencil case.

By 5:15 you were ready, actually you had been ready for the past ten minutes. The small library had been vacant even when you arrived, you didn’t know if you felt relieved at the fact or not. — By 5:25 you started to think that he might not show up. Out of all possible scenarios fabricated in your way too creative brain, the one of him not even bothering to come hadn’t crossed your mind at all. What would you do then? Accept defeat? Tell your professor? Talk to him in class? Neither option seemed too appealing.

It’s 5:32 when the doors creak open. Hesitantly, you lift your gaze as you watch Yeonjun’s eyes wander across the room, finally landing on you. His face morphed into a scowl and you felt your stomach drop. You notice that he hasn’t brought any study materials along with him and you bite the inside of your cheek. The short breath he lets go of echoes out into the silent library and then he marches toward you. — You don’t have time to think before he’s by your table, the palm of his hand slamming against the wood with such force that your pencils rattle, and you flinch.

“Do you think this is some kind of sick joke?” He sounds agitated, his hot breath searing through his gritted teeth as his nostrils flared. Your once tense jaw falls open as your brows draw together in a confused frown. — “I mean, I knew you had a thing for me. But don’t you think this is going too far?” He sounds almost hysterical as a grin spreads across his lips.

You felt color rushing to your cheeks at his words. Did he know? Could he tell by your small glances? But you thought you were being subtle. Yeonjun seems to be reading your mind as he runs a lazy hand through his hair, “oh come on now nerd, for someone so clever you really are quite oblivious.”

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice the way you eye-fucked me every single opportunity you got?” He sneers, tilting his head to the side as he watches you with a cruel look of distaste. Your lips part but no words come out. So you shake your head, you didn’t know who you were trying to convince, him or yourself. “It wasn’t like that…”

He scoffs, “no?” Suddenly his face is only inches from yours, and you had to force your gaze not to stray down to his lips as he spoke. “Then what is it?” He murmurs, so close that you could almost taste his words on your tongue. You swallow, hard. What was it? You didn’t know, you didn’t want to answer, he couldn’t make you answer, could he?

His grin widens as a low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “No way”, he shakes his head as one of his hands grip the backrest of your chair, easily twisting you to face him fully. His previously cocky expression was replaced with a look of sympathy, his voice now laced with pity.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a little crush, nerd.” He spits the words out and you’re quick to shake your head, denying his blunt accusations. “I don’t”, you stammer, leaning back as far as your chair would allow you to. — “You’re telling me you’re doing this out of goodwill?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side. He hardly seems moved by your denial, but when you quietly nod his smug face turns into a snarl. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? No, no, no that’s not what I-” You stop yourself before getting another word out, it felt like no matter what you said, you only worsened the already sour situation. Yeonjun exhales, his warm breath slamming against your already hot face. He leans back, taking a seat on the edge of the table as his hands dig into the pockets of his uniform. Confused, you watch him as he silently gets comfortable.

“What do you want then?” He finally asks and you blink up at him. “My number? Is that it?” He wonders as he fishes up his phone, unlocking it as he pulls up his contacts. You shake your head and he frowns, “then what?” — Your lips part and you motion toward the books in front of you, “just…”

“Don’t tell me you want me to fuck you, because that would be pathetic, even for you nerd.”

His statement catches you so off guard that you almost hit your leg on the chair opposite your own. “What?” You whisper, unsure of the fact that you had even heard him correct. You knew that there was no such universe in which someone like Choi Yeonjun would ever view you in that way, so it felt almost bizarre to hear those words leave his lips so casually.

He sighs as he gets up from the table, leaning down to become eye level with you once more. “I mean, I get that you’re desperate, believe me”, he lets his gaze drop to your chest for a brief second. “Looking like that, I’m sure it’s hard to get by”, he hums, and in that moment, you wished for the ground to swallow you whole.

It had been a foolish idea to even consider doing this, even more to say yes. If you had only turned your professor’s offer down, none of this would have happened. Because in all honesty, if this was how Yeonjun looked at you, with such menace and fabricated pity, you think you preferred it when he paid your existence no mind.

“But you’re lucky”, he murmurs before leaning even closer, his breath mingling with your own. Lucky? What a joke, you thought. — You flinch when you feel the light caress of his fingers on your shoulder as they slowly entangle themselves in your hair. “I’m feeling particularly nice today”, he smirks and your eyes involuntarily dart down to his perfectly plump and pink lips. “Besides”, he drawls, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

“I’ve never fucked a nerd before.”

You barely get the chance to second guess his words when Yeonjun presses his lips against yours. Immediately you freeze as your shoulders jerk up and your back curls against the chair. The hand on your cheek moves to your chin as he grabs ahold of your face, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and you let out a small shriek. — He hums against you, his eyes fluttering closed, lips moving on top of your unresponsive ones.

A moment later he pulls back. “You kiss like a virgin”, he states as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. As soon as the words left his lips, he grins, “but I bet you are.” — Still too stunned to even speak after his sudden course of action, you merely shake your head as you glance between him and the floor. You weren’t a complete virgin, you did have a boyfriend back in high school. Not that the two of you ever went further than kissing though, and even then, his kisses were nothing like Yeonjun’s.

Hesitantly you meet his gaze, swallowing down the nerves bubbling in your throat. “Come on now nerd”, he murmurs as his hands grip onto the armrests of your chair, large arms entrapping you against the old wood. “You’ve done it now haven’t you?” — “You got me here all to yourself, why don’t you use it to your advantage hm?” His eyes gleamed with mischief and you knew better than to trust his persuasive ways. Still you found it hard to do anything besides gawk at him, in utter disbelief of what was currently happening.

Biting your lip, you let your eyes flit down to his parted lips, focusing a little too long on the sheer layer of saliva that coated them. Yeonjun is quick to pick up on the subtle shift in your focus and he chuckles. You clearly see the way he moves closer, but it still doesn’t register that he’s kissing you again until his tongue molds against your own. Despite your initial shock, you try your best to kiss him back this time. You knew that you were probably horrible, but even then, he didn’t say anything.

Your breath catches in your throat when his hand envelops one of your breasts, groping it softly. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had your tits touched?” He drawls, easily noting your uncertain approach. Your silence is almost deafening and the way you squirm when he pinches one of your nipples tells him everything he needs to know. With a small frown he pulls back, just enough for you to see his face. He looks conflicted, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck, you really are a virgin aren’t you?” He sounds almost…serious and you find yourself slowly nodding as you grip the hem of your skirt tightly.

Yeonjun sighs and you hear him mutter something under his breath. His gaze snaps back to you and you can see the shift in his eyes once he settles on a decision. “Alright”, he states before quickly dropping to his knees. Baffled you follow his direct movement, shrieking as his hands on your knees part your legs. “We’ll start slow”, he hums as his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your thighs, your weak arms easily giving up when he pushes your skirt up.

“No need to be nervous”, he reassures you as his fingers hook around the hem of your panties, “I’ve done this plenty of times.” With that, he tugs your underwear down, past your knees, letting them pool around your ankles before his attention shifts to your exposed core. Your legs close in an attempt to shield yourself from his invasive stare but Yeonjun only gruffs out a short breath as he breaks your knees apart once more. — When he doesn’t say anything you grow worried, clearing your throat awkwardly as you shift on the chair. You had never done anything like this before so you had no idea if his silence was a good or a bad thing.

You don’t have to ponder for long as his fingers suddenly graze your folds. The touch was unexpected and you jolted forward as you tried to suppress the surprised noise threatening to escape. The smirk stretching across his lips only grows as Yeonjun basks in the way you react to his simple touch, you were far easier than any of the girls he’d been with. — “Ever had anyone touch you like this?” He asks, his voice a low murmur as his attention remains on his fingers sliding against your cunt, gathering the slick that formed as he smeared it all over you.

Meekly you shake your head, breathing out a small “no.” He seems satisfied with your answer, his ego inflating by the minute as he watches you writher under his small touches. Everything still felt so surreal, there was no way that this was actually happening, was it? You’re reminded of all the times you had watched him from afar, sneaking shy glances at him during class, before and after school, in the cafeteria, where he sat with his friends and…and his girlfriend. The reminder is enough to pull you from whatever euphoric state that transpired within your body as you jerked away from his touch.

Yeonjun’s eyes snap to you with a hint of curiosity and you bite the inside of your cheek, drawing in a small breath before daring to speak. “M-Mimi… w-what about her?” — He groans, a frustrated groan, and you wonder if you overstepped. “Nerd, someone like you, doesn’t count as cheating, got it?” He holds your gaze, speaking clearly, as if giving instructions to a toddler. He grins, a menacing grin, “besides, shouldn’t you be happy? I’m giving you what your perverted little mind has craved since you first stepped foot here.” Sheepishly you nod, heat rushing to your cheeks at the blunt statements he made.

Choi Yeonjun was bold, his words were harsh, and a lot of times they hurt. For some reason that made you like him even more.

“Now stop asking obvious questions”, he grunts as his hands trail along your thighs, pulling you forward on the chair, ignoring the way you squeal when he nuzzles his face between your legs. — It felt far from what it looked like in the movies, or even in porn. Yeonjun's hot breath against your core, his tongue dragging across your folds, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand and you gasped as he flicked your clit.

It was almost impossible to control the way your thighs twitched, squishing either side of his head as you fought to remain composed. A small whine left your lips as he latched on to your sensitive flesh, licking and sucking on it as if it was the only thing he was capable of doing. You barely register the way one of his hands grab onto your trembling ones, guiding them to his hair as he hums against your cunt. “Don’t be so awkward”, he mutters, his tongue dwelling deep inside of you, eliciting a moan from you as your fingers immediately twist in his dark locks.

Never in a million years had you thought that the study session that you had been far too eager to agree to would turn into something like this. And that Choi Yeonjun of all people would be the first one to see such a part of you. — You didn’t know if it was such a good thing. But it was impossible to form a single coherent thought with him between your legs, mouth falling open in surprise as his nose bumps up against your clit. He doesn’t seem to mind when you push yourself further onto his face, practically grinding your hips on his mouth as small noises of pleasure ripped from deep within your throat. You were thankful that the library had been vacant for hours.

“Y-Yeonjun!” His name falls from your lips without registering in your brain beforehand and you almost slap a hand over your mouth as realization washes over you. Yeonjun on the other hand, only chuckles, the sound sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt and you whimper as he withdraws his tongue from within you. — A somewhat familiar sensation bubbled in the depths of your stomach. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had an orgasm before, but the occurrence was rare, you didn’t exactly spend much time with yourself like that.

His name is pulled from your chest once more and his grip on your thighs tighten. “You got something to say, nerd?” He wonders without leaning away from you, hot mouth working against your throbbing core as he draws moans and whines from you. “C-close..” you mumble, feeling your cheeks redden at the small statement, and you were suddenly glad that he was unable to see your flustered face.

“Cum on my face then, bet you’ve never done that before.”

The comment was mean, possibly even degrading, but it still made you clench incoherently around nothing as you released against his waiting lips. To your surprise, he doesn’t immediately pull away, his face remaining between your legs as he laps up the aftermath of your orgasm, drinking in the taste of you with a small satisfied groan. — And when he does finally tear himself from your sore cunt, you can barely look him in the eyes, ashamed at what had just transpired between the two of you. Yeonjun doesn’t seem affected in the slightest, his thumb wiping away the sticky fluids on his chin before popping them in his mouth. The sight should not have made you throb but it did and you bit your lip.

Without warning, he suddenly gets up as he dusts off his pants. “W-where are you going?” You’re unable to stop yourself from asking. He shoots you a glance that says ‘well isn’t it obvious?’ He sighs, frustrated by your blunt obliviousness, “our session is over, isn’t it?”

You blink at him, still recovering from your climax as you pull your panties back on. “But the study-” — “You’ve got what you wanted, haven’t you?” He states as he stares down at you, much like he had on your first day, and your words suddenly fall short as you meet his gaze. Shaking his head, a small chuckle escaped his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow, nerd.”

The last thing you hear are the library doors slamming shut before the room is enveloped in a deafening silence once more.

⸝⸝

Everything had returned to normal the following Tuesday. You could barely wrap your head around it. The snarky comments were back, the pestering stares, whatever had roamed the air yesterday seemed to have completely vanished and you were left dumbfounded. — There was only one exceptionally different thing. Choi Yeonjun.

Part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t come to class, but that was a foolish thought. You hear him before you see him, or rather, you hear Beomgyu’s obnoxiously loud voice echoing off the hallways as The Choi’s approach. The classroom falls into a hushed murmur as the door swings open and the three of them enter. — You had told yourself that you would avoid him at all costs. That meant not speaking to him, not looking at him, not even glancing in the same direction as him.

You found it to be very hard. But the shame over what had happened not even 24 hours prior kept your gaze trained to the pages of your notebook. Not even as he pulled out his chair, making an agonizingly scraping noise that cut through the otherwise quiet room, did your eyes stray from the words in front of you, rereading them over and over as you tried to get your brain to register them. — You lasted approximately two minutes.

One small peek his way confirmed your every fear. Leaning back in his chair, Yeonjun paid you no mind as he scrolled through his phone, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck as he did. He acted…just like he usually did, as if nothing had happened between the two of you. For a moment you had worried that he would tell everyone, that was a shame you wouldn’t be able to bear. But perhaps he was trying to spare his own reputation, you could only hope he would keep quiet. Did he regret it? Probably. Why wouldn’t he?

What was perhaps even worse than his indifferent mannerism toward you was when Mimi greeted him with a kiss. Flinging her arms around his neck, she pulls him close as she practically shoves her tongue down his throat. Beomgyu makes a vile comment before turning to Soobin but besides that, no one else paid them much mind. Except you. The guilt was eating you alive, and you weren’t even the one who had cheated. What would happen if she found out, would she break up with him? Surely she would find a way to put the entire blame on you. You did not dare think of how miserably you would be treated if she found out. It couldn’t happen. You would have to talk to Yeonjun about it, one way or another.

But how?

You tried approaching him at lunch, but you only managed one step in his direction before you chickened out. Then you tried again before English, this time you made it halfway before Soobin swooped in right in front of you, his tall frame covering Yeonjun completely from view and you sighed. Your last shot was after gym. As everyone ventured toward the locker rooms you trailed behind, Yeonjun had, too, stayed to talk with your professor but just as you were about to approach, a tap on your shoulder freezes you in place.

“The hell are you staring at, nerd?” Beomgyu’s voice is filled with distaste as he eyes your sweaty figure, his nose turning up in disgust. Stunned, you fumble for words as your eyes dart between him and Yeonjun, just a few paces away. “N-nothing I was just…” — “Just leaving, right?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you quickly nod. “Y-Yeah”, you squeak out before rushing off. Why did his friends never stray from his side? It made things so difficult.

You were always the last one to leave the changing rooms. Hiding away in the bathroom, you waited for the other girls to finish before you dared to venture out and get changed yourself. It had become somewhat of a routine, not that it was particularly comfortable, but as it was your last lesson of the day, you weren't in any rush. — Whilst you get dressed, your mind concludes with a ton of ideas to approach Yeonjun. It would have to be when there was no one else around, before or after school seemed like your best bet. The only remaining problem was his friends, who seemed to be glued to his side.

Grabbing your bag, you walk over to the exit as you think of a way to get him alone. But as the door to the locker room closes behind you, it seems your problems have solved themselves for you.

“What took you so long?”

Yeonjun’s sharp voice startles you and you almost drop the bag in your hands as your head snaps in his direction. Leaning against the wall, his own gym bag swung over his shoulder, Yeonjun studies you with an indifferent expression plastered across his face. Your mouth falls open as you peer down the empty hallway, completely at loss for words. “Y-you waited for me?” You splutter as your attention shifts back to him.

He purses his lips as he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “yes, but I’m starting to regret it.” — “Do you always take this long?” His voice is laced with annoyance and you swallow as you shake your head. “I- I mean I…I didn’t know you were waiting I..”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He waves your meek explanation off as he shifts against the wall. Still confused on why he was even here in the first place, you bite your tongue as you wait for him to speak first. But out of everything he could’ve said to you, you had not expected the next words that were to come out of his mouth.

“When’s our next study session?”

What? He wanted to have another study session? You had been prepared to confront him about yesterday, to tell him, no beg him, to keep quiet. Yet he was asking for another session? You were sure he could read the bewilderment on your face as his lips drew into a grin. “N-next session?” You gawk out as your mouth repeatedly opens and closes. He rolls his eyes before huffing out a short breath of air, “yes our next session, we never settled on a date.” — Well you didn’t think he wanted to, you had planned on telling your professor that the whole ordeal had been unsuccessful but here he was, asking for a redo?

Was it a good idea to say yes? Considering how last time had played out, the answer was probably not. — “I- I’m free whenever.” But you obviously were very bad at listening to your gut instincts. However the smile that spread across his face made it all worth it, you felt your heart speeding up at the endearing sight. “Perfect”, he chimes, “then we’ll do tomorrow 5:30.” You nod but before you can get another word out he adds, “third floor, room 291.”

Would you guys not be studying in the library? Despite your slight uneasiness, you nod, “alright.” — “Make sure no one sees you on the way there, and don’t be late.” He warns before turning on his heel and walking off. You were left stunned as you leaned against the wall, still gripping your bag tightly in your hands as you tried to process what had just happened.

⸝⸝

Wednesday rolls around, the day progresses just like any other would. But something feels different, you feel different. It’s a different kind of excitement, bubbling in the pits of your stomach. You had barely gotten any sleep last night, which was a warning sign on its own because you always made sure to get 8 hours. But you don’t feel tired, not in the slightest. And as the last bell of the day rings, you hurry to the bathroom.

You never fussed over your appearance, far too busy with having a book stuck under your nose. But today felt different, sure the two of you were just studying, it didn’t mean that you couldn’t make an effort if you wanted to look nice, right?

The sound of bathroom stalls slamming behind you shifts your attention to a group of girls passing by. They all stop as they watch you apply a clear gloss to your lips, their noses scrunching up in disgust. “What’s gotten into that freak?” One of them mutters as she makes a move toward you, only to be stopped by one of her friends. “Don’t, you might get contaminated”, she sneers and the small group burst out into a fit of giggles. — Holding back a small sigh, you ignore them as you wait for them to leave before daring to do the same.

Your shoes echo off the now almost empty hallways, it was late enough to where few students lingered behind. Still unfamiliar with the building, you made your way to the third floor. You took no classes here and you had to rely on the numbered doors in order to find 291. It takes a while but soon you’re standing in front of it.

Your hands tremble as you hurriedly glance down the hallway, making sure no one saw you. When your gaze returns to the door you realize that it was a lot smaller than the others, its red paint standing out amongst the otherwise beige ones. That was odd. Yet you push any concerns aside as you reach out to twist the handle.

Upon stepping inside you quickly realize that this was not a classroom. The room was small, crowded shelves pushed up against all walls, displaying a large range of items, from old books to tools such as screwdrivers and wrenches. Your eyes scan across the multitude of contents as your mind tries to piece together the scene before you.

“You’re awfully punctual”, Yeonjun drawls as he emerges from a shadowed corner. You jump as you turn to him with a confused frown, “what’s this?” — He grins, his hands digging deep into his pockets as he leans against one of the shelves, “this is where our study sessions will be taking place from now on”, he explains as he motions for you to have a look around. From now on? But there was hardly room to study here, was there?

Quickly noting your perplexed expression, Yeonjun’s grin widens. “Well come on now, nerd. You didn’t actually think I was planning on sitting down and doing algebra with you?” Your frown deepens, lips parting as your eyes dart between him and the cramped space. “But what…then why are we here?” You ask as you readjust the rather heavy bag on your shoulder. — He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a step forward, that single step is enough to get him right in front of you, his chest dangerously close to yours. His hand slides up your arm, reaching your shoulder as he hooks two fingers under the strap holding your bag. “Use that clever little brain of yours for something other than your studies, and maybe you will start to see the bigger picture.”

Your bag hits the floor with a thud as Yeonjun’s hand returns to your shoulder, fingers twiddling the collar of your blouse as he waits for the wheels in your head to finally turn. And when they do, you glance up at him, your eyes wide with realization. “Yeonjun I… I don’t know…” Your eyes flit toward the door, mind altering between your options, stay or go, stay or go, stay or–

“Tell me now.”

His voice is calm and his posture remains stoic as he peers down at you. “I’m not about to waste my time on a loser like you if you’re not even into it.” He sneers as his hand lets go of your collar, pushing you back, only slightly, but enough for you to hit the shelf behind you. Was he seriously asking for your opinion right now, for your consent? Choi Yeonjun was willing to spend time on you, with you. The news were hard to melt and you found yourself awkwardly gazing up at him as your mind fumbled for an answer.

“What’s it going to be, nerd?” He tsk’s before leaning forward, one of his hands resting on the shelf next to your face as he cages you against it. Briefly you considered turning back, walking away, to return to your otherwise dull life as you watched him from afar. You remembered Mimi, his girlfriend, the guilt and shame, suddenly it came crashing down all over again. But you also remembered his words: “someone like you, doesn’t count as cheating”. Had he really meant that? If not, why else would he be here right now?

In the end, you nod. “O-Okay”, your voice comes out as a small peep and you curse yourself for not controlling it better. The smug smirk that immediately crawled onto his face should have been a waving warning flag, yet you ignore it, too caught up in the way his eyes darted to your lips, eyeing the clear coat of gloss you’d previously applied. His thumb swipes across the sticky substance. “I was about to tell you not to disappoint me”, he murmurs before pulling your lip down, “but I can already tell that you won’t.”

Your heart swelled at the small praise, and you leaned into his touch. You hear him scoff at your blunt advances, his lips twitching as he eyes your eager figure. “You virgins really are gullible.” — He presses his mouth against yours, making you gasp in surprise as your pupils blow wide. In what you guessed to be an attempt at loosening you up, his hands roam up and down your sides, settling on your waist as he pushes himself closer, grinding his hips against yours.

You had no clue of what to focus on, his tongue in your mouth, his hands on your waist, or the way his thigh pushed between your legs, rubbing against your panties in a way that had you practically squealing. — You knew that he was enjoying the reactions he pulled from you, ever so sensitive to his smallest of touches. It’s not long before his hand is on your thigh, gradually moving along your skin before reaching the hem of your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side, fingers sliding across your already pathetically wet folds before finding your clit, as if they had done this a hundred times.

The moans you emit are all swallowed by his hungry lips on yours as he lets you grind yourself onto his hand. None of the previous hesitation you had felt during your session in the library was present in your mind, all you could think about was how good he felt, how you didn't want him to stop, and how you wanted more, a lot more.

“More.”

You can feel him smirk against you, your desperate whine ringing out into the hot air. — “Yeah?” He muses before pulling back, his lips are coated in your clear gloss, the sight was strangely enticing and you find yourself nibbling on your own lip as you sheepishly nod. He chuckles, pressing his lips against yours whilst he hikes your leg around his waist, the small adjustment bringing you even closer to him, and as you feel the hard bulge through his pants, reality slowly sets in.

But you can’t stop now, you don’t want to. The sound of him undoing his zipper becomes a muffled noise somewhere in the background as your arms wrap around his neck, clinging to him in every way possible. — He breaks the kiss, confused, your eyes flutter open as you try and peer at him in the dim light of the storage room. You briefly catch him tearing a small package open with his teeth and for a moment you’re left completely dumbfounded before realizing that it must’ve been a condom.

People wore condoms for one of two reasons, either they were avoiding knocking someone up, or they were afraid of catching diseases. But what disease could you possibly be carrying? So that would mean… You don’t have time to ponder on the matter further as you feel the tip of his cock against your folds. Immediately your eyes shoot open as your hands grip onto his shoulders. Suddenly everything seemed very real, perhaps a little too real.

“Tell me if it hurts”, he murmurs, his forehead leaning against your own and you meekly nod. Was it supposed to hurt? You draw in a sharp breath as you feel him slowly push inside, the stretch of his fingers had been nothing compared to this and you felt completely unprepared. His movements come to an abrupt halt as he leans back to gauge your reaction with a wary expression. Quickly nodding, you loosen your grip on his shoulders, breathing out a small “‘m fine.”

“Yeah?” He wonders and you nod once more. Only when he’s fully inside, do you dare let out the breath you had been holding in; feeling your body relax against his. “You feelin’ okay?” His genuine question catches you off guard and you give a small nod of assurance. “Y-Yeah I am..” — He smirks, then he captures your lips in a small kiss, the gesture distracts you from the moment he begins to move, gently rocking his hips into you and you gasp against his mouth.

“Fuck”, he grunts. With one hand around your waist and the other maintaining a steady grip on the shelf behind you, he slowly thrusts inside of you. “Are all virgins this tight?” He murmurs, the question was rhetorical and he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, “or is it just you nerd?” — “I bet it is.” He sounds menacing but his ragged breathing makes it hard for you to tell if he’d really meant it or not.

The items on the shelf rattle as his pace grows quicker, harsher, drawing moans and whimpers from you with every move his hips, cock stretching you wide as you claw against his shoulders. He leans back, enough to where he can watch the way your lips part, your now smudged gloss spread across your cheeks and chin as you whine. His gaze drops to your chest, fingers quickly beginning to work on the buttons that concealed you from him. Flicking them open one by one, Yeonjun’s hand quickly tears your blouse apart, eyes darting to your plump breasts as they bounced in rhythm with his movement.

“You’ve got some nice tits for a nerd”, he muses, his hand groping your chest as his thumb flicks along your covered nipple. Feeling your cheeks redden, you only moan as he draws deeper inside of you, the tip of his cock brushing against parts of you that made you squirm. — Yeonjun made you think of yourself, see yourself, in ways you never had before, and it was exciting.

“Has anyone ever told you that, hm?” He sneers, his hand pushing your breasts together as he watches the flesh squish against one another, groaning at the sight. Unable to form a single coherent thought, much less a full sentence, you merely shake your head. “Well you do. You got some of the nicest tits I’ve ever seen.” He grunts, hips snapping against you. The compliment makes you throb around him, your orgasm approaching at a rapid pace and your fairly short nails dig into his shoulders.

“P-Please”, you wail and Yeonjun rolls his eyes, letting out a gruff sigh. “Thought you would last longer than this, nerd.” — “But don’t worry”, he murmurs, leaning in close as his lips trail the shell of your ear, “it comes with practice.” He moves down your neck, prepping your skin in soft kisses before he pulls it between his teeth.

You whimper when his thumb rubs at your clit, legs trembling around his waist as your hands move to his hair, fingers threading through his dark locks before securely latching on. It doesn’t take much for your high to hit, your cunt clenching down around his cock as it pulls him in further. — Yeonjun curses under his breath as his hips jerk forward before stuttering. In the pure ecstasy of the moment, you roughly pull his face from your neck as you crash your lips against his. You knew that it was messy, sloppy and uncalculated, but you didn’t care as long as you got to feel him this close to you.

You hear him sigh, you can’t tell if he’s content or not. But a moment later he breaks the kiss, gazing at you with a clouded expression as a small grin tugs at his mouth. He bites his lip, eyes dropping to your chest one final time before he pulls out, making you wince at the sudden feel of emptiness. — “Not too bad for a first timer”, he comments as he rids himself off the condom. You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it.

“Same time Friday, got it?”

⸝⸝

Your study sessions with Yeonjun became a regular thing, and every instance was just like the former. They would take place after school, in room 291, shielded away from prying eyes as he had his way with you. You were there, at his every beck and call, never once showing up late nor canceling. — It was both thrilling and excruciating. You knew that whatever transpired between the two of you was nothing personal and only temporary. Yet you couldn’t help but long for something more; you longed for Yeonjun to like you back.

It was probably a selfish thought, a selfish fantasy. But the images of Mimi flashing before your eyes, which had previously filled you with both dread and guilt, were suddenly replaced with a feeling of superiority. Because even if she didn’t know it, her boyfriend fucked someone else on the side, her boyfriend was cheating on her, with you. And it felt good. Often you had to hold yourself back from letting said fact slip past your lips. The scenarios would sometimes look something like this…

“Watch where you’re going, nerd.” Mimi spits after purposefully crashing into you in an almost empty hallway that provided more than enough room for two parties to pass. Her friends turn to you with a scowl as they fold their arms across their chests. Your eyes dart between them and their vengeful leader before flitting down the long corridor, down to where The Choi’s were hanging out.

Making the mistake of letting your gaze linger, garners her attention as Mimi snaps her fingers in front of your face. “What the fuck are you looking at nerd?” She barks as her eyes follow yours. She scoffs, her lips curling into a smirk, “do you think my boyfriend looks good or something?” Her question rips your attention back as you feverishly shake your head. — Mimi only laughs, her friends quickly joining in as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s okay, I don’t blame you, really.” She tries to appear nice, perhaps even pitiful, but the malicious intent behind her words linger. You shake your head once more, “no I wasn’t I..” She holds up a finger to silence you, “come on now, it’s obvious. Everyone knows you have a thing for him.” She practically giggles as she covers her painted lips with a hand. Your cheeks feel as if they were on fire, your gaze dropping to your shoes as you bite the inside of your cheek.

“But don’t worry”, she leans closer, her breath, which reeked of the strawberry bubblegum she always chewed, fans across your face. “You’re not exactly his type.”

The statement almost made you scoff. Not his type? Was that what it was? You briefly considered telling her, telling her what her boyfriend was doing behind her back, and with the school nerd at that. The one girl she thought she didn’t have to worry about. It was almost a bit comedic. But you held your tongue. No matter how bad you wanted to crush whatever illusion she had going on, you couldn’t. Besides, Yeonjun would probably just deny it, and who would believe you?

Speaking of Choi Yeonjun. — He had become almost insufferable outside of your sessions. From barely looking at you in class to bringing attention to you at almost every possible second, Yeonjun was now the sole epitome of the bullying you endured. Whether it was the nasty and mean comments he shared with Beomgyu, his words echoing out through the classroom as he brought the whole class to laughter. Or the multiple times in which he’d trip you over in the hallways, undoubtedly peeking up your skirt as he did, but of course, no one noticed that, and if they did, they didn’t fault him.

Choi Yeonjun did nothing wrong. He never did. So when he invites you to a party, your very first one, you don't know what to say.

“Think about it”, he huffs as he zips his pants back up. The air in the small storage unit felt hot and stuffy, your clothes sticking to your sweaty body as you pulled your panties on. “I don’t know..” you quietly murmur, glancing down toward the dark floor as you twist your hands behind your back. — Yeonjun sighs, running a hand through his hair before he tries again. “Why not? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

You shake your head. “I’m not. But…I don’t know anyone, I don’t… I can’t just show up there.” You argue before swallowing the lump in your throat. It had been an outright baffling proposal on his side. What would people think if you just turned up? — “Tell them I invited you, they’ll let you in.” You blink up at him, was he being for real right now?

“Y-You?” He nods, as if it was a given. “Make sure to wear something half decent at least.” He says, giving your shoulder a pat before he pushes past you and out of the small room, leaving you in the dark once more.

⸝⸝

Something half decent? What was something, half decent? You didn’t know, and it took you about an hour to pick out a dress you thought would be suitable. It wasn’t particularly short, stopping at your knees, the dark purple complimented your skin nice, you thought. But it felt uncomfortable to walk in, and with one hand wrapped around the fabric, you pull it down as you near the driveway of a large villa.

Your eyes flit across the scenery, it was dark out, but the house remained lit despite the late hour. Music was playing, loud enough to where the beat echoed out across the empty street. Swallowing a gulp, you run a hand through your styled hair one final time before daring to step inside.

Immediately you’re greeted by a large number of perplexed eyes, everyone slowly turning to you as you venture further into the villa, reaching the filled kitchen space. “What’s she doing here?” “Did someone invite her?” “I can’t believe she would actually show up.” — You cringe at their remarks, trying your best to ignore them as your eyes scan for Yeonjun. What if he wasn’t here? What if this had all been a ploy to draw you out and humiliate you further. You shouldn’t have come here, you really should–

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Mimi’s harsh voice snaps you from your small trance as she immediately corners you. Freezing on the spot, your hands curl into fists as you turn to her. Desperate for a way to defend yourself, to explain the situation, or to just escape all together, your mind spirals with excuses. Your lips part but you can’t seem to get a single syllable out. “Come on nerd, I asked you a question.” She huffs, growing impatient as she takes a step forward, her chest almost touching yours.

“I’m…I..” Could you really tell her that her boyfriend invited you? Would she believe you? No, of course not, no one would. You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes flitting across the crowded kitchen. — “Did you come here to make a scene or something? I mean come on, you’re not even a senior.” Her comment makes everyone hum in agreement as they nod, some even sharing a couple of laughs.

She was right, and even if she wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You stood no chance against anyone in this room. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and for the first time since you came here, you actually felt like crying. Taking in a small breath, you slowly exhale again. “Well I…”

“I invited her.”

Your heart practically froze over as Yeonjun’s voice cut through the tense air. Quiet murmurs carry out through the room as everyone redirects their attention. Somewhere in front of you, you can hear Mimi scoff as she takes a small step back. “What?” She questions and you finally dare to lift your gaze, your eyes immediately locking with Yeonjun’s as he leans against the kitchen island, seemingly unbothered by the small uproar taking place.

Mimi on the other hand seemed to be fuming as she glanced between her boyfriend and you. “What do you mean you invited her?” She seethes, her voice laced with hatred and spite. Yeonjun shrugs as he digs his hands into his pockets, an indifferent look on his face. “Come on now, loosen up a little. It’s our responsibility as her seniors to take good care of her, don’t you agree?” He lets his gaze wander across the multiple eyes directed at him, everyone seeming to break under his stare as they quietly nod.

He cocks an eyebrow in the direction of his girlfriend, “then there’s no problem, hm?” Mimi’s mouth had fallen open as she watched him win everyone over within a matter of seconds. Though quickly regaining her composure as she nods, muttering out a quiet, “whatever”, before she pushes past you with such force that you almost lose your balance.

Yeonjun sighs as he moves off the countertop, placing a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder, “get her something to drink won’t you?” His friend frowns, “why me?” But Yeonjun doesn’t pay him any further mind as he, too, takes his leave, most likely in search of his raging girlfriend.

As soon as he leaves, the previous tension seems to lift as everyone returns to whatever conversation they had been preoccupied with earlier. You breathe out a small sigh as you wrap your arms around you, leaning against the kitchen island as you keep your gaze down. — A drink is shoved in front of you, it’s reddish hue making you frown as you gingerly take it from Beomgyu’s outstretched hand. “T-Thanks”, you mumble as you grip the plastic cup tightly.

You’re surprised when he doesn’t leave, instead he groans as he takes place beside you, resting his hands on the countertop behind him. “Y’know I really don’t understand why he invited you of all people.” He begins and you can feel his eyes roam your body with distaste. Swallowing, you quietly nod as you sip on the drink, it wasn’t at all as bitter as you had expected it to be, rather it tasted kind of sweet.

“I…I don’t know either”, you shyly mumble, keeping the cup to your lips as you occupy yourself with gazing down at the liquid swirling around. Beomgyu scoffs as he shakes his head, “Of course you don’t. No one knows what’s going on in that thick skull of his.” — His words came out…almost insulting, and you wondered why he chose to speak in such a way about his friend.

“You’ve got some guts though, I’ll give you that.” He states, running a hand through his messy hair as his eyes fixate on something in front of him. Surprised at the sudden almost compliment-like statement, you glance up at him in sheer bewilderment. “Not many people in your shoes would’ve come here”, he adds as he gives you a quick one-over. “No offense y’know, but you kinda look…” His nose scrunches up in what you could only guess to be disgust and you bite the inside of your cheek as your gaze drops to your dress.

“O-Oh yeah…I guess.”

Beomgyu chuckles, “My, are you gullible.” You internally wince at his words, a small grimace flickering across your face as you take another sip of your drink. You can feel his eyes on you as Beomgyu studies you closely, a little too close. “Y’know, maybe I do understand why he invited you”, he sniggers, pushing himself off the kitchen island, he leaves without saying another word.

Left confused and yet again, alone, you chew on the plastic of your cup as you wonder how long you would have to stay before it would become appropriate to leave.

⸝⸝

You think an hour had passed, it felt like three. Back pressed against the wall of the open-spaced living room, your eyes roam the makeshift dance floor as you watch the way your classmates enjoy their evening together. Your presence had soon become old news and after your first encounter, Mimi had left you alone, and so did everyone else. You were thankful, you supposed. But you still didn’t know why Yeonjun had invited you, much less why you had even decided to show up. Because right now, he was nowhere to be seen.

You think that you might be able to just sneak out, leave, go home and forget that this evening ever took place. This wasn’t for you, that much you could tell. You would face the embarrassment come Monday, but today, now, all you wanted to do was evaporate.

Standing up a bit straighter, you tug your dress down once more, preparing to leave. It’s only then he makes an appearance. It’s quick, so much so that if it weren’t for the subtle tap to your forearm, you would’ve probably missed him as he passed you by. Your eyes follow Yeonjun’s retreating frame as he aims for the staircase, leading to the second floor. Before climbing the first step, he throws a quick glance over his shoulder, eyes finding yours as he flashes you a small smirk.

You gulp as you watch him disappear again. Nervously chewing on your bottom lip, your gaze flits across the room, no one was looking at you. Still you wait another five minutes before aiming for the stairs as well. Each step forward made your legs feel like jelly and you steadied yourself against the railing.

The second floor consists of a long hallway, with doors either side of it, reaching down to at least four of them. Your heartbeat picks up at the thought of having to push all of them open as you carefully peeked inside. But your attention is drawn to the third one on the right, slightly ajar as a yellow light seeps through its cracks. Hesitantly you venture forward, coming to a halt in front of it as you debate your next move. Did you knock? Call out for him? Was he even there? Maybe you were seeing things. There was only one way to find out was there?

Mustering up whatever courage you have left, you gently push the door open. The room is… a bedroom. A small onesize bed, pushed up against the window alongside the empty bedside table, tells you that it’s most likely a guest room. Your eyes flit to the armchair in the corner, widening as they land on Yeonjun’s figure, sprawled out against the cushion, a hand down his pants as he lazily strokes himself. He watches you with a faint smirk, his head leaning back against the backrest, eyes half lidded as they peer over at you.

What was going on? You glance back and out into the hallway, afraid that someone, anyone, might walk by. What if Mimi came looking for him? But you were almost certain he’d meant for you to follow him. Quickly you shut the door behind you, locking it for good measure. Yeonjun watches your hurried movements with an amused expression, the hand on his cock unwavering.

“W-What’s all this?” You quietly wonder, willing your eyes to look anywhere but him, anywhere but the hand down his trousers. He doesn’t say anything, lifting his free hand, his index finger beckons you over and you hesitantly comply. Stopping by the chair, you awkwardly clasp your hands together in front of you as you wait for him to break the stale silence.

“You look nice tonight.” He finally says, his voice seemingly indifferent as he shamelessly lets his gaze roam your body, stopping at the slight cleavage your dress provided. In the dim light casted by only a small lamp on the drawer next to him, you were unsure if he could make out the blush coating your cheeks or not. “Thank you..”

He hums, readjusting himself on the soft cushions as his legs spread further apart. It takes everything in you not to let your gaze drop. For a moment everything is quiet, and you wonder why he had even bothered to get you up here in the first place. But then he sighs, the small exhale easily garnering your attention as you shift on the spot.

“Have you ever blown someone before?”

He asks the question as if it were any other and you feel the color on your cheeks intensifying. He can’t just ask someone something like that…But then again, there was little Choi Yeonjun couldn’t do. Part of you doesn’t understand why he even bothered to ask, wasn’t it obvious? Another part of you suspects that he wants to hear you admit it, wants to see you get flustered as you shake your head, squeaking out a meek “no, never.”

That’s exactly what you do. — He smirks, a wide smirk, exposing his sharp teeth as his free hand grabs onto one of your own. You let him pull you to your knees, the soft carpet beneath your bare skin felt nice but it was hard to focus on anything but the bulge in front of your face, the movement of his hand visible through the material of his pants.

“I’ll teach you”, he mumbles, letting go of your hand as he pushes your hair back, gaze wandering across the light makeup you had applied, lingering by the cherry red lipstick on your lips. You slowly nod, hands gripping onto the hem of your dress with such force that you’re surprised it doesn’t tear.

Without further warning he leans back, swiftly pulling his cock free from his jeans as he continues to stroke it, now only inches from your face. Sure you and Yeonjun had hooked up before, in the darkness of the small storage unit, in places where you never paid his dick much attention apart from when it was inside of you. This was the first time you actually saw it, you think, and this close too.

Your jaw goes slack as your eyes trail across the large veins climbing up his shaft, coated in a sheer layer of arousal, seeping through his fingers as they wrapped around the length of it. Gulping, you eye the tip, a bright red hue as droplets of precum spilled from the slit. You would be lying if you said that the sight didn’t make your thighs clench together. — Obviously enjoying your stunned response, Yeonjun groans as he gives himself a particularly harsh tug, making your eyes widen further as they flicker from his cock to his face and back again.

“Come here”, he directs you to scoot forward and you do, offering your hand for him to take as he guides it to wrap around his shaft. He felt hard and heavy in your palm, and you bite your lip as you try to gauge his reaction. Letting his hand drop to his sides, Yeonjun sinks back against the cushion as he peers down at you. “Start slow, don’t use too much pressure but don’t be afraid to touch me. I’ll tell you when you can speed up.” He instructs as he lets his head fall back, getting comfortable as he pays you little mind.

Your attention returns to his cock in your hand, doing as he said, you slowly let your palm glide up and down, fingers quickly becoming coated in the shiny layer of his arousal. You can’t tell if he likes it or not, he gives little reaction as he stares up at the ceiling. You want to ask him, you want him to reassure you, but it feels stupid to ask, and you hate feeling stupid.

His hand joins in on top of your own, guiding your fingers to his tip, which you had purposefully avoided as you didn’t know how to approach it. “Flick your wrist like this”, he murmurs, letting your palm glide over the head before returning to stroke him. He only shows you once before his hand moves back to his side. But you can tell that he’s watching you now, eyes tailing your every movement as you repeat what he had just showed you, rolling your hand over his tip, drawing a small huff of air from him.

“Use your thumb”, he breathes, and your gaze flickers to his face in slight confusion before catching on. The next time you twist your wrist over his head, you press the surface of your thumb against the slit. He shudders under you, a small groan passing his lips and your heart speeds up at the small confirmation you just received. It managed to boost your confidence enough to where you gripped him more firmly, experimentally squeezing his cock, just like he had done moments prior, relishing in the way his breath hitched.

“You can go -f-fuck- faster.” He grunts, his hands sliding against the armrests of the chair, fingers digging into the plush cushion. Quickly nodding, you’re happy to oblige, repeating your previous movements but with an increased pace as your eyes dart between his leaking dick and his slightly contorted face.

When he first twitches in your hand, you’re taken back. Surprised by the sudden movement yet you felt yourself throb as you tugged at him even harsher, wanting to pull that very same reaction from him once more. — He’s stopped guiding you, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he tries to muffle whatever noises threaten to escape. You don’t mind, in fact it only spurred you on further as you flicked your wrist over his flushed tip once more.

His hips buck up against your hand as he lets out a strangled noise. His hand quickly finds its way to your hair, brushing it back as he breathes out through his nose. “Fuck, slow down”, he mutters, tugging at your hair as he forces your face up to meet his, “I’ll cum before you’ve even blown me at this rate.” The statement made your chest swell with pride, still, your hand slows down as you settle back into a more languid pace.

He takes a moment to open his eyes, drawing in a few ragged breaths before he does. The hand in your hair moves to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pulls you closer, the tip of his cock merely inches from your lips and you swallow. “Relax”, he says, fingers pulling your mouth open and you let him. “Breathe through your nose, and don’t use your teeth.” — You slowly nod, your hands bracing themselves on his thighs as he taps his cock against your parted lips, smearing his arousal all over your cherry lipstick.

He pushes inside slowly, you wince at the stretch, your mouth widening as much as it allows. The first thing you note is the salty taste, it isn’t particularly strong and you’re relieved. But no matter how hard you tried to relax your jaw, when his cock hit the back of your throat you instinctively pulled back with a small gag. — Yeonjun tsk’s above you, the hand on your cheeks gripping you firmer as he pulls you back onto his dick. “Thought I told you to relax, no?” He murmurs, letting out a breathy moan as you let him slide himself back into your hot mouth.

Your eyes screw shut as you focus on evening out your breathing, taking steady breaths in and out through your nose as you allow your tense frame to relax under him. “Think of it as the same as what you did with your hand.” His fingers relax against your cheek, thumb grazing your skin as he feels the way his cock slides in and out of your pliant lips. — It feels weird at first, uncomfortable too, but after a while you slowly get used to the feeling of him in your mouth.

Hesitantly wrapping your lips around him, you press your tongue flat against him as you carefully bob your head up and down. He groans somewhere above you and your eyes flutter open as you peer up at him through your mascara coated lashes. Yeonjun always looked good, but there was something about him like this, from this view. A sheer layer of sweat that made his dark hair stick to his forehead, his parted lips and furrowed brows, you clenched at the sight, taking him deeper and with much more urgency.

Something about tonight felt…special, perhaps even more intimate than all your past encounters. Maybe it had to do with the change of scenery. The dimly lit bedroom, the plush armchair, the fine carpet, you can’t place it, but something is different. And for the first time, you can only think about Yeonjun, not his girlfriend, his friends or even your classmates. It was only him.

Remembering how you had pressed your thumb against his slit earlier, you pull back to refocus your attention to only his tip, your hand joining in to stroke the rest of him. You press your tongue flat against his head before swirling it to the best of your abilities, watching intently as Yeonjun’s brows drew further together, a breathy moan ripping from deep within his chest.

“F-Fucking hell”, he groans, his head falling back against the cushion. “Fuck ‘m gonna-” His hips jerk forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you pull back with a small wince, unprepared for when his hot cum spurted into your mouth. Not really knowing which approach to take, you continue to suck him off, cum dribbling down your chin as you fought to swallow the rest without losing your breath once more. Yeonjun slumps back against the armchair, his hand releasing its hold on your cheeks as he lets it fall to his side.

Carefully pulling off of him, you sit back as you begin wiping your chin with the back of your hand. You steal a glance at him, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head as a small grin etches its way to his lips. — “Was…was it okay?” Your words are barely above a whisper, and he cocks an eyebrow at you, his grin widening.

“Sure it was, nerd.”

You blink up at him, “really?” — He chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants with a small grimace. “Would I have asked you to do it if I had doubts?” He retorts and you bite your lip, no perhaps not you supposed. “You’ll get even better with a bit of practice”, he reassures you, giving your head a light pat before getting up.

He’s reached the door before he turns back to you, “wait another fifteen minutes or so before leaving, yeah?” Without waiting to hear your answer, he unlocks the door and steps out, slamming it shut behind him.

⸝⸝

You spent another thirty minutes aimlessly wandering around the large villa, astonished by how someone could afford a place this big. You still had no clue whose house this even was, and no one seemed to care for the sake either. — Halfway down a long corridor, filled with what you could only assume to be modern art, you suddenly freeze in your tracks as the voices of someone else joins your quiet footsteps.

After spending a rough minute trying to locate the source of the sound, you finally realize that it’s coming from behind one of the larger pillars a few paces ahead. Debating your choices for a solid ten seconds, you opt to try and eavesdrop, if only for a moment. And as you quietly creep forward, their conversation suddenly becomes a lot more clear. — Shuffling to squeeze yourself behind another pillar, you lean against the cool marble as you try and pick up on what’s being said.

You knew the voices belonged to two of the girls from your class, but you were unable to pair them with any faces. — “Did he really?” One of them asks, her voice is slightly high-pitched, almost a bit squeaky. Her friend’s voice is fairly deeper as she replies, “Yes! And it was a week before her birthday too!” A small gasp. “You don’t mean… But with whom?” The first girl asks.

There’s a brief pause, and you, too, find yourself holding your breath as you await the second girl's answer. “With Hera..” You frown, unable to recognize the name but the other girl seemed more than aware as she let out a small shriek, earning a sharp “hush!” from her friend. — “But that’s…” the first girl begins only to be interrupted by her friend, “her best friend.”

Their conversation made little sense in your ears, and with a small sigh you turned to walk the other way when suddenly, a familiar name surfaced. — “But it was kind of obvious was it not”, the girl with the deeper voice begins, “Yeonjun has cheated on Mimi with practically all of her friends. She’s bound to find out some day, it’s only a matter of time.”

You felt your face fall as your heart plummeted through your stomach. Had you heard them right? You hoped you hadn’t but the first girl quickly butts in as she confirms what you dreaded. “I told her from the start that Yeonjun was promiscuous, but she didn’t listen of course”, the girl huffs as her friend hums in agreement. “Better her than me”, she adds.

You had heard enough. That was it, you were going home. Turning on your heel, you quietly dart down the long corridor. — You knew that you didn't have a reason to be upset, hell he had even cheated on his girlfriend with you. It still didn’t stop the tears that pricked in your eyes as you pushed past the crowd in the kitchen. A small part of you had thought, perhaps even hoped that maybe, maybe what he saw in you was different from what he saw in Mimi. God you’re so stupid. You quietly mutter, reaching the open living room just in time to see who you had hoped you wouldn’t.

Near the front door, leaning against the wall, was Yeonjun, arms wrapped around his girlfriend’s frame as she pressed sloppy kisses to his neck. Your mind flashes with the images of what had taken place between the two of you not even an hour ago. Yet here he was, shamelessly buttering his so-called girlfriend up as if he hadn’t had you on his cock moments prior. And to think that you had allowed yourself to become part of his crowd, it was disgusting.

You finally saw Choi Yeonjun for what he really was. A fucking asshole. And with that clarification in mind, you forcefully push past the pair as you march out of the front door, leaving the still lively party behind as you begin your journey home.

⸝⸝

Monday came all too fast. The aftermath of the party is still fresh in your mind as you rummage through your locker. You had spent the whole weekend reanalyzing your every interaction with Yeonjun; from the day you first met to the thirty minutes spent in the guest bedroom just two days ago. You questioned his true intentions, more than twice. But no matter how many hours you tossed and turned in bed, you got no closer to solving the mystery that was Choi Yeonjun.

Slamming the red steel door shut, you almost drop the books in your arm as you come face to face with the person you least wanted to see. — Yeonjun leans against the locker next to yours as he studies your face intently. Quickly you turn around to see if anyone was watching the two of you before shifting your attention back to him. “What are you doing?” You whisper as you watch him with a wary expression.

He only shrugs, a small grin playing on his lips. “See me after class”, he nods in the direction of the stairs, leading to the third floor and you internally sigh. Still, you should talk to him, you really should, so you nod. “Okay.” — His grin widens as Yeonjun pushes himself off the locker, continuing down the hallway without another word.

You find yourself counting down the hours, lesson after lesson, your eyes remain glued to the clock on the wall. In fact, you’re so focused on the afternoon ahead that the insults thrown your way merely passes over your head. — Then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you find yourself walking up the steps and past the doors as you neared room 291.

He was already there, waiting for you. And as soon as the red door closes behind you, he’s got you pressed up against it, hungry lips on yours within a matter of seconds as his hands roam your body. It was easy to get caught up in his world, his kisses and his touches, you have to remind yourself of why you came here. His name falls from your lips, but it’s not the usual desperate whine, it’s serious, you know that he can tell, humming against your lips yet his hands don’t stray away from wandering beneath your shirt.

"Yeonjun, wait."

He stills, if only for a moment, leaning back slightly as his lips brush against yours. Taking in a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the conversation to come. You had rehearsed it many times in your head, but as you glance up at him in the dim light of the storage unit, you find it hard to even look him in the eyes. “I…I’ve been thinking”, you slowly begin, watching the faint smirk that surfaces on his face. “Don’t you always, nerd.” He mutters, his hands resuming their journey up your chest, flicking the buttons to your shirt open as his mouth leaves hot kisses against your neck.

You try to ignore the burning sensation sparking through your body, forcing yourself to go through with what you wanted to say. “Yes but, I’ve been thinking about…about us.” — Your words make his hands around your breasts stutter and he goes quiet against you. Biting your lip, you hold your breath as you wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t, only humming against your skin as he continues to litter you in red marks.

“What makes you think there is an ‘us’?”

His question makes your composure fall as you let out a shaky exhale. “There isn't?" You hesitantly ask, already anticipating the answer you were bound to receive. — He pulls away from you with a perplexed expression. Then he laughs, it’s short, cruel, he shakes his head. “Don’t be funny”, he mutters as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “You know that I have a girlfriend, nerd.” He spits the words out like the venomous bite of a snake. His gaze drops to your unbuttoned blazer, briefly passing the harsh bruises he’d previously left on your chest.

“Don’t think you’re anything else besides a quick fuck.”

Oh. There it was. He finally said it, he finally confirmed what you had been dreading all along. You weren’t stupid, you knew that whatever the two of you had was nothing romantic. But hearing those words come out of his mouth, it hurt more than you ever thought it would’ve. Still, it was just what you needed. With your palms pressed against his chest, you push him back, as far away from you as the small room allowed.

“I don’t think I want to be that.”

Your voice is trembling as you speak and you have to force your gaze not to drop down to your shoes. Letting your hands fall back against your sides, you draw in a small breath, holding it as you watch Yeonjun’s face form into a confused frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He huffs, sounding almost angry as his hands clenched into fists before relaxing again.

You bite the inside of your cheek, giving a meek shrug of your shoulders. “I don’t want to be just a… a quick fuck.” You murmur, unable to maintain his intense gaze, you let your eyes drop to the floor. He scoffs, leaning back against the shelves with such force that the items behind him rattled. “Do you honestly believe that anyone else is even going to consider fucking you, nerd?” He was pissed, that much you could tell.

Shaking your head, you blink away the tears that had managed to form in your eyes. “I don’t care, I just…”, you exhale, praying that your voice wouldn’t break as you continued, “I just don’t think this is for me.” — Yeonjun laughs, the same laugh that echoed off the classroom walls as he made fun of you. You realize then just how fucked up your situation had become. How could you have allowed yourself to stoop to such a level?

“I gave you so much, and you… you don’t think that it’s for you?” He jeers, taking a step forward as he comes face to face with you once more. But now none of the previous lust and desire remained, only fury. All you can do is continuously shake your head, not daring to meet his gaze. “No. It’s not.” You state as you tear your eyes from the floor, it takes everything in you to not have your resolve crumbling as you peer up at him.

“So let’s stop.”

You motion toward the small unit you were currently standing in. “Whatever this is, was, let’s end it now.” You swallow, hard, the sound ringing in your ears. Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair once more, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as his eyes flit between you and the door. “You want to end things? Fine.” His voice lacks all the anger it previously held, now sounding almost monotone.

“But don’t come crying when you realize just how much you’re about to lose.” He drawls, eyes boring into yours one final time before he pushes past you, knocking you back against the wall as he rips the door open. Darkness envelops you as soon as it's slammed shut behind him, and you finally let out the sob you had been holding in.

⸝⸝

You didn’t go to school that following Tuesday, nor Wednesday. It was the first time you had missed a whole day since your junior year in highschool. Was it pathetic? Probably. Curled up on your bed, you spent the two days in front of your laptop, binging whatever show seemed appealing as you sniffled into a tissue. — You wanted to go back in time, back to when you only knew Yeonjun as the obnoxious leader of bullies from your class, back to when things were simple.

You wondered what he might’ve said about you in your absence. What kind of lies he might’ve conducted, surely he wouldn’t just sit still. You dreaded returning, but you knew that it was inevitable, and as Thursday rolled around, you pulled yourself from bed.

The classroom was empty when you arrived, there was another thirty minutes left but you had chosen to get there earlier to save yourself perhaps at least a few stares as you walked toward your desk. You had missed a lot, you were sure, two days was a long time to be away from school and you worried that you would have a lot of reading to do when you came back home. Though you supposed the distraction of studying would be nice.

It’s about ten minutes left until class when the first few students emerged from the doors, swinging their bags down on their desks as they chatted loudly with one another. “Watch it nerd!” A girl sneers as she gives the leg of your chair a harsh kick, you grip onto the edge of your table as you hang your head low. But beside that, nothing happens, and you frown. You were sure it was going to be worse than this, but it wasn’t. For the first time ever you felt relieved that your classmates were treating you indifferent. Well, all except one.

Yeonjun doesn’t show up to first period. And just as you think he’s about to be absent for the second one as well, the door is pushed open as he walks inside. Yeonjun seldom did what he was supposed to in class, but he always brought his bag, not today though. You tried to not let your eyes linger, inevitably failing as you watched him pull out his chair and sit down, his hands remaining in his pockets as he leaned back to gaze across the board with a lazy expression. In regular fashion, Beomgyu goes off about a random topic next to him as Soobin twirls a pen between his fingers, seemingly bored out of his mind.

Class begins, and ends, and nothing happens. Not even as much as a glare in your direction. It was just like before, before the two of you were ever intimate, Yeonjun acted as if you didn’t exist, and you watched him. But this time, you didn’t feel a sense of longing, honestly, you didn’t know what you felt. Relief, a sense of mourning, regret? You didn’t like the way your stomach felt when you looked at him, so you stopped.

⸝⸝

Weeks went by, the bullying never stopped, why would it? You kept quiet, your gaze downcast as you moved through the hallways. It worked, because you rarely saw him anymore. You didn’t know if he was avoiding you or not, you didn’t care. It felt nice to not care. The only thing tugging away at you now… was the loneliness. It wasn’t like Yeonjun acted friendly with you, especially not during school hours, but he had made you feel less alone. In the most fucked up way possible, he was the only one you had ever had some kind of relationship with since your first day here. And a small part of you missed it.

But even the loneliness would one day stop.

You blink up as a plate is placed opposite yours in the crowded cafeteria. Confused, your eyes darted between the boy before of you and the plenty of empty tables. He doesn’t seem to care as he slides down on the chair in front of yours. “You’re the junior girl who takes classes with the seniors right?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side, studying you with wide and curious eyes. — Still wary of the intentions behind his move to sit with you, you slowly nod, “I am.”

He smiles, it was perhaps one of the first genuine smiles you had received since you started here. Shuffling a bit closer, he offers his hand for you to shake, which you hesitantly do. “I’m Hueningkai, but you can just call me Kai.” He says as you let go of his hand once more. — “I’m a junior too, but I’m stuck with everyone else our age”, he explains with a coy smile.

You nod, taking a small sip of your water. His eyes shift to the book placed next to your tray. “Lord Of The Rings?” He asks and you hum as you turn it around for him to see. “I love those books!” He exclaims as he brings it to his face, studying the back intently. “I’m re-reading them..” You quietly mumble as your gaze flickers between him and the glass in your hand. Kai sets the book down as he turns to you, “you mean you’ve read all this more than once? Sick!”

That was how you met Kai. You don’t know why he approached you, you didn’t care to ask. All you knew was that you had finally found a friend. And though the two of you still took separate classes, you always stayed behind to study together, ate lunch just the two of you, and walked each other to class. It felt nice to have someone to talk to, even though you didn’t tell him about you and Yeonjun, he still listened to you as you explained all of the bullying.

You were amongst the last to return to class after lunch one lousy Tuesday. Kai and you had spent the entire break discussing quantum physics, and you had only realized the time once you went to search something up on your phone, making you rush to class. Not thinking much of the rare occurrence, you make your way over to your desk by the very back of the room, only freezing when one of your classmates addresses you.

“What’s got you coming in so late, nerd?” He sneers as he leans back in his chair to see you better. With the intention of not replying, you take your seat as you begin rummaging through your stuffed bag. But when another girl butts in, you feel yourself go stiff. “Don’t you know?” She drawls, easily garnering the first guy’s attention as well as everyone around her. Even the Choi’s seemed to be listening as Beomgyu put down his phone. You held your breath, anticipating the worst yet it somehow ended up being so far from anything you could’ve ever imagined.

“Nerd’s got a boyfriend.” She exclaims, watching triumphantly as everyone began whispering amongst each other, hushed murmurs carrying around the room. You felt your face burn as you glanced toward Yeonjun’s table. — He was still scrolling absentmindedly on his phone, but the way his jaw clenched, accompanied with the small frown of his brows, made your stomach sink just slightly.

“That’s such bullshit!” Mimi exclaims as she throws you a harsh glare. But the girl who’d announced the news merely shakes her head. “I’ve seen them myself!” She retorts as she folds her arms across her chest. “That junior boy, y’know the blonde one.” — “I’ve seen them too!” Someone else chirps in and the girl is quick to nod.

“They always eat lunch together too”, the girl turns to you with a wide smirk, “isn’t that right nerd?” — Your fingers curled around the pencil in your hand, gripping it with such force that it might break. You don’t look at her, gaze dropping to your table as you merely shook your head, earning a scoff from the girl as she turned back to the rest of the class.

“Shit, are you serious?” Beomgyu wonders as he leans forward in his chair. But before the girl has a chance to reply, Yeonjun cuts her off. “Don’t be stupid”, he mutters as he pulls Beomgyu back by the collar of his shirt. — “What the fuck man, it’s just a question”, he whines as he rubs his now sore neck. Yeonjun huffs as his gaze remains glued to his phone screen, “of course she isn’t serious. Stop believing her bullshit.”

Beomgyu falls silent at his words and so does everyone else. The next few minutes are awkward as everyone scrambles to occupy themselves with whatever they could find, desperately wishing for your professor to walk through the doors.

⸝⸝

The sound of the old library doors being pushed open shifts your focus from the book in your lap as you glance up just in time to see Kai approaching your desk. He smiles, waving his hand enthusiastically and you find yourself reciprocating the small move. — “Sorry I’m late”, he apologizes as he takes the seat next to yours, pulling a few books from his bag. “It’s fine, really”, you assure him as you place your own book down.

It had become routine for the two of you to meet up and study together, well, you often just talked the hours away, but neither of you seemed to mind the lack of work getting done. “Which chapter are you on?” He wonders, and you slide the book over for the two of you to share, “fifteen.” He nods as he scoots closer, your shoulders practically touching as you take turns reading and scribbling down notes.

Usually you didn’t mind the close proximity, but when thinking back of what had transpired after lunch earlier that day, you felt different. Ever since your break up with Yeonjun, if break up was even what you could call it, you had little desire to enter into a new relationship. But the more you mulled over your classmate’s words, the more sense it all seemed to make. — Eating lunch together, walking each other to class, even now, you both sat so close that you could hear the pattern of his breathing.

Kai was cute. He was the type of cute that made you look back twice when you passed him on the street, the type of cute that made you want to revisit the small café because of the waiter that had served you, the type of cute that you wanted to bring home to your parents. — Not only was he cute, he was nice too, you felt happy, comforted, in his presence. Unlike Yeonjun, Kai only made you feel giddy inside as you longed to see him. He never made you second guess his intentions or yourself.

But there was still something missing, something that you couldn’t quite place. Something that Yeonjun had made you feel by just stepping into the same room as you. You hated yourself for comparing your new friend to someone like him, but it felt almost impossible not to. You didn’t care about Choi Yeonjun anymore, so why did he continue to haunt the subconscious parts of your mind?

As if on cue, Kai turns around in his seat, his nose almost grazing your own due to how close you sat. “Hey are you following along?” He wonders, seemingly concerned as a small frown tugs at his brows. Blinking, you shake your head, “sorry no..” — You swallow, willing yourself to be honest with him, you need to be.

“Can I…can I tell you something?” You hesitantly ask, gnawing on your bottom lip as you twirl your pencil anxiously between your fingers. He nods, a small smile painting his lips, “of course!” — Awkwardly clearing your throat, you think of a way to begin the whole thing. “W-Well basically…Everyone in my class they-”

Your words get stuck in your throat, not because you were afraid of uttering them, not because Kai made you in any way feel uneasy. But because the oak doors to the library opened once more, the sound almost deafening to your ears, eyes becoming glued to Yeonjun’s frame as he enters. It doesn’t take him long to spot you, his already spiteful expression seemingly worsening as his gaze locks with yours.

He grasps a book tightly in one hand, walking over to the front desk as he practically slams it on the table, making everyone inside the room jump as their heads turn in his direction. Yeonjun however, pays them little mind, his eyes never straying from yours as the old librarian goes to check out his book. — Even Kai’s attention had shifted toward your classmate, watching as Yeonjun leaned against the desk with a scowl on his face.

“Isn’t he in your class?” He wonders as the frown on his face deepens. You nod, “ignore him”, you mumble as you shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze. “But he’s looking at you..” Kai states and you shake your head again, “please let’s just ignore him.” — Finally, Kai tears his gaze from him as he gives you a small nod, “of course. So what’d you want to tell me?”

Oh right. “Well I… It’s a bit weird, promise you won’t be freaked out.” You begin as you bite your lip, feeling an evident blush rise on your cheeks. Kai nods as he takes your hand, the small action somehow making the whole thing even worse but you couldn’t find it in you to push him off. From the corner of your eye, you can make out Yeonjun’s figure as he watches the two of you, his mere presence made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

“My classmates they…they sort of think we’re…well they think we’re dating..” You quietly mumble, the last part becoming nothing more but a faint whisper. You can easily read his surprise as Kai’s eyes widen, his gaze flitting down to his hand on top of yours as he swallows. “Oh.” Is all he says. — “I hope it doesn’t make things weird between us”, you quickly add, your voice near pleading as you search his gaze.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Kai slowly nods as he keeps his eyes on your hands. “No I suppose it doesn’t… I mean, it’s not like it’s true..” He says, offering you a small smile as his gaze returns to your face. You nod, “y-yeah, exactly..” — Daring to steal a glance in the direction of Yeonjun, you barely manage to catch his retreating figure as he exits the library, oak doors slamming shut behind him.

Kai follows your gaze, his hand on top of yours moving back to rest on his lap as his eyes flicker between the spot where Yeonjun just vanished and your almost longing expression. He sighs.

⸝⸝

It’s nearing 6pm when you finally part ways outside the library. And after waving Kai off, you turn to walk up the flight of stairs leading to your locker. The hallways are vacant, your low heel shoes clacking against its floors as you readjust your heavy bag on your shoulder. — Your footsteps come to an abrupt halt about halfway down the long corridor, your eyes spotting a tall figure, leaning against the red lockers by the end of the hall. You swallow, easily recognizing his lean frame. It’s too late to turn back, you know that he’s heard you already.

“Have you been waiting here all along?” You wonder, stopping a few paces from him, maintaining a good distance as you shift your weight over to one leg. Yeonjun’s head, previously leaning against the red steel behind him, lazily turns in your direction as he studies you with a tired expression. “No.” — You knew it was a lie.

“Then why are you here?” For once, it’s your gaze boring into his, and not the other way around. Yeonjun remains silent, his hands digging deep into the pockets of his pants, his eyes roaming your body just like they had so many times before. He doesn’t say anything. You wait for him to speak, you wait for two whole minutes. Nothing.

With a small huff, you give up as you approach your locker. Now only inches from him, you type your code in as the red door clicks open. Pulling your books from your bag, he watches you as you place them neatly inside the small space. You bite your tongue, refraining from saying the many things on your mind. It would only complicate the situation further. — It’s not until you close the locker again, turning around as you get ready to leave, that he finally breaks the silence.

“Is it true?”

You freeze, slowly turning back to face him with a small frown. Still leaning against the lockers, he tilts his head to the side, his expression holds no amusement, not even anger, just…emptiness. You had never seen him like that before. — “What?” The surprise is evident in your voice, and you watch as he pushes himself off the lockers, moving to face you completely. “You and him, is it true?” He repeats his question and your breath gets stuck in your throat at the mention of Kai.

You didn’t want him to become the next affection of Yeonjun’s harsh bullying. More than anything, you wanted to maintain the only friendship you had, you could not have your past mistakes getting in the way of it. — “Does it matter?” Your stance remains guarded as you fold your arms across your chest. He cocks an eyebrow in your direction, his lip twitching, “of course not.”

Confused, you frown, you had forgotten how near impossible he was to read. “Well then there you have your answer.” You firmly state. He shakes his head, and you could’ve sworn you caught the small grin on his face before it vanished again. “So then it is true..” — “Yes.” The small word of confirmation slips from your lips without you even realizing it. But it was too late to take it back now. Yeonjun frowns, he seems almost surprised at your immediate response.

“It’s true that we hang out everyday. It’s true that he makes me smile, and laugh. It’s true that he cares for me and I for him. All of it is true, is that what you wanted to hear?” You’re almost out of breath by the end of your small rant. — Yeonjun’s jaw clenches, hands curling into fists inside his pockets as he draws in a sharp breath through his nose.

“So does it really matter if it’s true or not when he treats me in a way that makes me feel loved and appreciated?” You’re unable to hinder yourself from letting out all the emotions that you had kept pent up during the past weeks. And by the end, your voice sounds as if it’s about to break at any moment. — But he doesn’t say anything. His expression remained as indifferent as possible, watching the way your chest heaved as you caught your breath again.

His silence felt heavier than a thousand words. Part of you wants to swallow your statement again, another part is relieved to finally have gotten it out. You quickly realized that you probably wouldn’t get another response from him, and thus you made your second move to leave. Except this time, he acts faster.

Fingers wrapping around your wrist, Yeonjun prevents you from taking another step away from him. His grip is tight, but not enough to hurt, you can feel the slight tremble to his hand and your gaze dart between his hold on you to his now determined expression.

“I could too.”

His voice is low, yet the sentence echoes off the empty hallway walls. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, blood rushing beneath your skin as your wide eyes meet his. — “I could make you feel like that too.” His voice is clearer now, steadier, and he takes a step forward. You find yourself shaking your head, making him frown. “Why, don’t you believe me?”

The question made you scoff. “Of course I don’t.” You exclaim as you withdraw your arm from his grip, he lets you, briefly glancing down to his now empty hand before letting it fall to his side. “You’ve said it yourself. I’m nothing besides a quick fuck, right?” — He bites the inside of his cheek, your words undoubtedly true.

Maybe three weeks ago, his small statement would’ve been able to sway you, to make your heart beat a little faster. Now it only felt like he was rubbing salt onto your barely healed wounds. Just as you had gotten over him, just as you had finally made a real friend, he had to go and ruin it all again by saying exactly what you both dreaded and longed to hear from him. And you hated him for it. You hated Choi Yeonjun.

Tears stung in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You couldn’t let him see you cry. — He grabs onto you a second time as you turn to leave, pulling you flush against his chest with such haste that you barely have time to register what’s happening before his lips are on yours. “Don’t go”, he breathes into your mouth, kissing you with such urgency that you thought he might just be on the verge of dying.

Your hands are on his chest within seconds as you pry him off. “Stop. Just stop.” Your pleading voice cuts like knives through the air and he pulls back with a stunned expression. Shaking your head, you tear yourself from him as you take a step back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. But it better stop.” He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. “Don’t let me get my hopes up only to crush them again.”

Refusing to hear him out any longer, you quickly turn on your heel as you hurriedly walk down the hallway, leaving him behind as he runs a hand through his dark hair.

⸝⸝

The next day, Yeonjun doesn’t show up to school. You’re just as confused as everyone else, your eyes darting toward the door every other second, thinking that it might be him, but it never is. — “Is he sick?” Someone asks but Beomgyu only shakes his head, leaning back in his chair with a small huff, “beats me.” Ah, so he didn’t know either. Gnawing on your bottom lip, you’re suddenly filled with worry, was it because of what happened yesterday? Was he actually hurt by it? No, surely not, it was Choi Yeonjun after all.

It’s not until the doors bursts open once more, revealing a disheveled Mimi, that realization slowly starts to set in. Her usually put together face is in ruins as makeup has been smeared across her cheeks. Heads turn in her direction as one of her friends guides her over to her desk. — “What happened?” A guy asks only to be hushed by her friend, quietly mouthing out the words: “he broke up with her.”

Everyone seems to fall silent after that, allowing Mimi’s quiet sobs to fill the room as you wait for class to start. — He broke up with her… You blink, glancing down to the empty page in your notebook as you swallow. Did that also have anything to do with what happened yesterday? Once again you’re left feeling guilty, Yeonjun always seemed to make you feel that way.

When your professor finally arrives, the lecture moves slowly, agonizingly so. And for once, you didn’t find any joy in your studies. Sure it might also have something to do with the persistent feeling of being watched. — Turning your head ever so slightly to the right, you find Soobin’s eyes locked on your unnerved frame. Not even when he knows that you’ve caught him does he turn away.

He continues to watch you throughout the day. Wherever you went, he seemed to be there too. Eyes boring into you at all times, an indifferent expression on his face. He knew something, that much you were sure of.

⸝⸝

Finally, as your last lesson comes to an end, you manage to slip past Soobin’s prying gaze as you hurried down the stairs to meet Kai. The two of you had begun accompanying each other on the way home as you both took the bus from the same station. — You find him waiting by the entrance, a large smile plastered across his face and as soon as your eyes fell on him, all worries were washed away.

“How was class?” He asks as you walk down the courtyard. You shrug, swinging your bag in front of you cheerily, “nothing out of the ordinary.” — “No mean comments, no nothing?” He wonders and you bite the inside of your cheek, “no…actually not.” After the news of Mimi’s breakup, everyone had fallen into this sort of trance where no one seemed to want to bring attention to themselves. Thus you had been left alone all day, which felt both nice and incredibly weird.

Kai hums, the two of you were walking so close that your arms brushed together, but you didn’t mind. Once you reach the large gates leading out onto the streets however, you freeze. Stopping a pace in front of you, Kai turns to you with a small frown, “something wrong?” — You shake your head, “no…I just.. think I left a book behind, you go ahead.”

He opens his mouth, as if to object but you quickly interrupt him, “it’s fine! I wouldn’t want you to miss your bus”, you reassure him as you offer a small smile. “Then what about you?” He wonders but you just wave it off in a disregarding manner, “I’ll take the next one, don’t worry about me.” He doesn’t seem entirely convinced but the small hug you give him makes him nod. “Alright, text me when you get home”, he says and you quickly agree as you send him off.

You watch him disappear down the pavement with a small sigh. Not until he’s completely out of sight do you turn to cross the street. You walk with long and determined strides, not stopping until you reach the large tree by the sidewalk. — Yeonjun isn’t wearing his usual school uniform, instead he’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans, a black jacket wrapped around his torso to prevent the chilly December air from getting to him. He leans against the naked tree trunk, his gaze flickering from the concrete beneath him and over to you as you approach.

Feet planting in front of his, you cross your arms as you peer up at him with an expectant look on your face. He doesn’t say anything, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. Unable to bear the silence, you break it. “You didn’t come to school today.” You don’t know why you stated the obvious, perhaps you wanted him to explain himself, but he doesn’t, only nodding silently.

Frustrated, you run a hand through your hair. He wanted to talk to you, right? That’s why he was waiting across the street from your college, openly risking being spotted by your classmates. So why wasn’t he saying anything? — Huffing out a short breath, you part your lips to say something, but he’s quicker than you.

“I broke up with her”, he calmly states. His posture remains relaxed as he speaks but his eyes search yours with something akin to desperation. — “I know.” You mumble, biting the inside of your lip before continuing, “she was crying all day, did you know that?” He scoffs, “so?” His nonchalant approach made you frown, “so? Don’t you care?” Your question is met by the mere shake of his head as he shrugs, “no, do you?”

“I do.”

He hadn’t expected your answer, you could tell by the way his face dropped, if only for a moment. “Why? It’s not exactly like she’s a good person.” He jeers, shoving his hands deeper into the denim pockets of his jeans. “And you are?” Even though your voice remains steady, there’s a linger of hurt between your quiet words. — He goes silent in front of you as his gaze flits between yours and the entrance behind him.

“Why are you even here, Yeonjun?” Your tone is near accusing and he looks almost guilty as his attention shifts back to you. He swallows, rubbing a hand along his neck, as if stalling for time. You bite your tongue, waiting patiently for him to speak. — “Why do you like him?”, he finally asks. It hardly took a genius to guess who he was referring to.

You sigh, observing the way the naked branches of the tree moved against the mild breeze. “I told you, didn’t I?” You drawl, readjusting the bag swung over your shoulder. The corner of his mouth twitches as Yeonjun shakes his head, “that’s not what I wanted to hear.” — “And you think you’re in a position to make demands like that?” You snort, watching as he pushes himself off the tree before taking a step in your direction.

Leaning back to glance up at him, you try your best to hold your ground as he tilts his head to the side, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you. “Then tell me what I need to do.” — Your mouth falls open as you gawk at him, what was he implying? Taking a step back only ends up with him taking yet another forward, his hands coming up from his pockets to rest on your shoulders.

“Tell me how to be like him.”

Slowly you realize just what he was asking of you. Immediately shaking your head, you take yet another step back. “It doesn’t work like that.” You quietly murmur, averting your gaze to avoid looking him in the eyes. He frowns, a confused frown, “sure it does”, he says, sounding almost hopeful as he grips your shoulders tighter. “Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

Did he honestly think that everything could be undone just like that? The pain, the tears, the bullying, that he could take it all back just because he wanted to? Just because he had a change of heart? The thought was almost as ridiculous as his proposal. — This was Choi Yeonjun, he wasn’t about to change his ways just because of you, you should know that. Whatever this was, this moment of confusion, it wouldn’t last, and you had to pull out before you got hurt, again.

“I don’t know what you want from me…” You bite back the harsh insults waiting on your tongue, shaking your head once more. “I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care. Please just stop confusing me”, you almost beg as you try to pry his hands off of you. — Yeonjun looks perplexed as he lets you push him off. “Confusing you? I don’t–”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You retort, your voice growing in intensity as you failed to hold back the anger and resentment you held for him. “I let you screw me over, I let you use me, humiliate me, I put up with all of it, because…” You exhale, taking a step forward as you point an accusing finger to his chest. “Because at one point I thought that I liked you, but I don’t. I know exactly what you are and I know that you won’t change.”

He frowns, his fingers wrapping around your wrist on his chest. “You don’t know the first thing about m-” — “I do.” You cut him off, aware of the way his jaw clenches as his grip on your wrist tightens. “I know that you cheat, you lie, you use people as you please, and worst of all, you don’t even feel guilty about it.”

You tear yourself from his grasp, stumbling backward as you cradle your sore wrist. “I know far from everything about you”, you state, watching him bite the inside of his cheek as he fights off the remark he so desperately wished to fire. — “But I know that I hate you. And that’s enough reason for me to stay as far away from you as possible.”

“So please, leave me the fuck alone.”

As soon as you turn around to dart down the street, the tears spill from your eyes as you sob into your open palm. More than anything, you regret ever becoming infatuated with him.

⸝⸝

Yeonjun didn’t come to school the following day either, nor the day after that. People stopped asking about him, only becoming disregarded by both Beomgyu and Soobin as the two kept to themselves. Yet the taller’s persistent stares remained as Soobin watched your every move, like a hawk stalking its prey. Even now, as you sat by your usual table, listening to Kai as he rambled on about a random topic, did you feel his gaze on you.

“D-Did you hear me?”

Kai’s hesitant voice snaps you from your trance as your eyes shift to his fidgety frame. Nervously twisting the hem of his uniform, he gives you a sheepish smile. You blink, “I…s–sorry what did you say?” You wonder, feeling a bit embarrassed by your lack of engagement as he spoke. But Kai only shakes his head, the tips of his ears turning pink as he clears his throat. “I was wondering if… if you would maybe want to study this weekend a-at my place?”

You could tell that it had taken almost all his courage to ask the simple question. But somehow you find yourself comparing it to how easy such demands had fallen from Yeonjun’s lips as he shamelessly took whatever he wanted. Internally you curse yourself for letting your mind so comfortably shift to the subject of Yeonjun when you had tried so hard to forget about him.

“Sure I would love to!” You smile, heart swelling at the endearing sight before you as Kai’s face practically explodes in an ocean of red. “R-Really?” He asks and you nod, “of course!” — You’re about to ask him what time would be suitable when suddenly a large shadow is casted over your table. Squinting up your eyes lock with none other than Choi Soobin as he peers down at you with a vacant expression.

“I need to talk to you.” He states in a monotone voice, jutting his chin toward the large entryway of the cafeteria. Your gaze flits between him and Kai as your friend shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “O-Okay”, you quietly mumble, giving Kai an apologetic look as you get up to trail after Soobin’s tall frame.

He walks fast, and you almost have to jog in order to keep up. Pushing past the crowded hallways, Soobin doesn’t seem to mind the multiple glances shot his way. The two of you walk for a good five minutes without stopping, and just as you’re about to ask where you’re going, he comes to an abrupt halt, making you almost facepalm against his back.

With the light kick of his foot, the door to a vacant classroom swings open and he steps inside, seemingly waiting for you to do the same. — Once the door is shut behind you, he turns to lean against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. Nervously, you tug at the collar of your blazer as you glance around the dark room.

You don’t think you had been alone with Soobin, ever. Nor did you think that you had ever heard him utter more than two words out loud. And he had never directed a single one to you. So to say that your current situation was surprising, would be a grave understatement. — You think a whole minute must have passed when he finally speaks. But the words coming out of his mouth made you wish for everything to be silent again.

“What’s your deal with Yeonjun?”

His voice is low, barely above a murmur, and deep too. Not at all like his snarky friends whose laughs would echo off the hallways. You swallow, hard, the sound is audible in the otherwise quiet room. Unlike Beomgyu, Soobin never once picked on you, nor did he join in when the others were laughing, at best or worst, he would give a small grin. — If it were Beomgyu you would at least expect him to be mad in a situation like this, but Soobin remains eerily calm as he watches you from a distance, just like he had these past three days.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business”, you stand your ground, despite the fact that it felt as if the floor was literally shaking beneath you. He chuckles, it’s breathy, almost inaudible. “You don’t need to act so prideful, he’s told me everything about you.” — It feels as if all air has been knocked out of your lungs. So he did know something.

“Everything?” You exhale, your breath near trembling. He gives a curt nod, “everything, except for why he isn’t here today”, he mutters, seemingly displeased with the fact. — A small frown etches its way to your face, lips parting in confusion. “I know you’ve got something to do with it.” He states, tilting his head back as he gazes up toward the ceiling. “But he won’t tell me what.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance down to the floor, the uneven wood planks suddenly seeming very intriguing. “I couldn’t possibly know why he–” — “Don’t bullshit me.” He snaps, his eyes flickering back to you within milliseconds. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you flinch, taking a small step back before your thighs hit the table behind you. Soobin ignores your skittish reactions as he continues. “I don’t know what he’s getting at, going for someone like you.” He says it with such distaste that it makes your skin crawl.

Before you know it, he takes a step forward, then another one, and another one, until he’s got you caged against the desk. He doesn't say anything, one of his hands reaching into his pocket as he rummages through it. Pulling up a folded piece of paper, he shoves it into your open palm. “He asked me to give you this.” — He brushes his hand against his jeans as he takes a step back.

“Fix whatever you caused.” Is all he says before turning on his heel to leave again. Upon yanking the door open, he’s met with Kai’s alarmed frame as he jumps to the side. Sparing him a mere side glance, Soobin shoves past him as he takes off down the hallway. — You shove the small paper in the pocket of your blazer as you walk over to your friend with a sheepish smile. “Hey how long have you been standing-”

“You and Yeonjun?” He asks, almost baffled as he eyes you, full of distrust. The smile immediately vanishes from your face and your throat suddenly goes dry. “W-What?” You ask, still not registering his question fully, hoping that maybe you had heard him wrong. Kai shakes his head, his jaw momentarily clenching. “Just how much exactly did you hear?” You quietly whisper.

He gives you a small shrug, “enough.” — He sighs, looking almost defeated as he runs a hand through his blond hair. “I thought you…I mean the two of you, I never thought…” Frowning, he gives up with a small huff and you bite your lip, reaching out a hesitant hand to place on his shoulder, but he only jerks away from your touch.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds hurt, you can tell he is. The guilt was slowly seeping back into your veins, Yeonjun always made you feel guilty, but this time…this time it was your own doing. “I’m sorry.” The apology is genuine, you hope he can tell. Because you really are sorry, sorry for not being honest with your only friend.

Kai looks at you, his eyes hold so much pain that you wondered just how deep your lie had stung. “Do you like him?” He asks, his voice sounds strained, as if he was holding back tears. The question catches you off guard and you blink. Did you like him? No, of course not. You hated him. You hated Choi Yeonjun.

“No, nevermind, don’t answer.” He shakes his head, “I don’t care.” — You fumble for words, wanting to say anything that would comfort him. It felt almost impossible. “I- I’m sorry I should’ve told you I–” — “Yeah you should’ve.” He bites back, his unusually harsh tone making you wince. “You should’ve told me a long time ago. Before I..” He cuts himself off, biting his cheek as his gaze drops to the floor.

“Before what?” You quietly wonder, noting the way his shoulders slumped as he exhaled a shaky breath. “Before I liked you.” His voice is merely above a whisper, his attention strained to the floor as he refused to look you in the eyes. Your mouth falls open, it wasn’t like you were completely unaware. Kai’s lingering touches and stares didn’t go unnoticed but you had never imagined that his feelings ran this deep.

“You like me?”

He scoffs, dragging his feet leisurely in front of him. “I thought that was obvious.” He pauses, his gaze briefly meeting yours before fleeting down again, but it was just enough for you to catch the shiny layer of tears coating his lashes. You swallow, it felt almost as if you were about to throw up, the guilt slowly eating away at you.

All you could do was stare at him with a stunned expression, not knowing what you could possibly say to mend the situation. Kai draws in a sharp breath before he wipes his face with the back of his hand. “It’s alright”, he mumbles, “it’s not your fault.” — Your heart might as well just have been ripped out and stepped on at this point. Why was he being so kind to you, when you so obviously didn’t deserve it.

“We’re friends still…aren’t we?” He wonders, looking up from the floor with bloodshot eyes. “T-This doesn’t change anything, right?” — You wanted to tell him that this changed everything, that things might never be the same again. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t hurt him like that. So you shake your head, wrapping your arms around him as you hug him tight. “Of course not, Kai.”

You wondered if things had turned out differently between the two of you, had you never gotten involved with Yeonjun.

⸝⸝

It’s early, earlier than you’d like to admit as you leave your apartment that Sunday morning. The sun has yet to rise and the city is still asleep, but you haven't been able to shut your eyes and relax for the past three days. No, you had waited, dreaded, for this day to come. — The bus is almost empty, save for another young woman, but she looks far more comfortable than you as she rests her head against the window.

The air is cold as you step off, and you hug your coat tighter around your body. You walk for about ten minutes before a large building comes into view. Pulling the small note from your pocket, you glance between the address scribbled down and the number on the building in front of you, they perfectly align. — The note, the one Soobin had so hastily shoved in your hand three days ago, the note you had reread at least a hundred times throughout the weekend. An address, a day, but not a time. — Perhaps you were a bit early, but as you trudged up the stairs, you no longer cared. You had waited for three whole days, you’d had enough.

You take the stairs instead of the elevator. To get some exercise in, you tell yourself. But there was no mistaking the fact that you wanted to prolong the moment for as long as possible, despite your urgency to get here. — Finally, you reach the fifth floor, out of breath, you lean against the wall as you take a moment to gather yourself.

The first time you read the note you had considered not showing up at all. It was a cowardly move to send his friend in his place. But at the same time, your mind longed for answers, answers that you would hopefully get today. — You bring the paper to your face, rereading it one final time. The address, the day, and the small sentence, at the very bottom.

“Let’s talk, please.”

Fine, if he wanted to talk, then you would talk. Your fingers curl into a fist, lightly tapping the dark wood. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve been mindful of the still early hour. But right now your mind was set on one thing alone. — Your heart beats obnoxiously loud in your chest, the wait seemingly eternal.

Then the door creaks open. And as soon as your eyes fall on him, you can tell that he’s had trouble sleeping too. The bags under his eyes were a most unusual look, his hair too, laid messily sprawled on top of his head. He’s still dressed, almost as if he hadn’t gone to bed at all. — “Hi”, his voice is low, raspy, like he hadn’t spoken in days. You give him a small nod of acknowledgement and he steps aside as he lets you in.

Yeonjun’s apartment is clean, minimalistically furnished. It wasn’t like you had ever tried to imagine what his home would look like, but this somehow felt just like him. Your gaze trails across the few paintings on the walls, you can tell that he hadn’t picked them himself, most likely they came with the flat. The white couch, situated by the large windows, catches your eye.

Upon walking over and taking a seat, you find that Yeonjun does the same, maintaining a respectable distance as he glances down towards his hands. For a moment, everything is quiet. Part of you wished to stay like this forever. But that was of course impossible. — He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly on the sofa. “Do you want something to drink?” You bite your lip before nodding, “water’s fine.”

He gets up, walking over to the joint kitchen as he turns on the faucet. You can hear him grabbing glasses, filling them to the brim before returning to place one in front of you on the marbled coffee table. Quietly thanking him, you take the glass, bringing it to your lips as you take a sip. You wait for him to speak first, he was after all, the one who had reached out.

Yeonjun looked very different like this. In the comforts of his own home he resembled little of the person you had grown accustomed to in school. You wondered if he often brought people over, judging by how awkward he was acting, you supposed not. — He draws in a sharp breath, his gaze remaining downcast as he speaks.

“You got my note..” He mumbles as you set your glass down. “I did”, you state, leaning back against the soft cushion as you turn your head in his direction. “Why didn’t you give it to me yourself?” You frown, feeling rather hurt by his choice of using his friend, his friend who definitely didn’t seem to like you. Yeonjun is silent, he’s silent for a good while, fingers intertwined with one another as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“I was scared.” He quietly admits and your eyes widen at the confession. “Y-You were?” You can’t shield the surprise in your voice, Choi Yeonjun, scared? He scoffs, and for a moment, his usual self emerges as his face turns into a small scowl, but the way his eyes flicker as he speaks gives him away. “Of course I fucking was, I still am.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer straight away, as if considering his next words with great care. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he lets out a small almost inaudible exhale. “Because I’m scared that I’ve fucked things up so bad this time… That there’s no going back.” — You uncomfortably shift on the couch as you distract yourself by taking another sip of your water. Yeonjun’s body is taut as his jaw clenches, refusing to even glance in your direction he keeps his gaze steadily fixed on the window in front of him as the darkness outside slowly shifts into a deep blue.

“I want…” He slowly begins, his sentence falling short as he takes another couple of breaths. “I want to apologize.” You blink, your eyes shifting from the water in your glass and over to him, you don’t think you had ever heard him speak with such sincerity. — And for the first time since your arrival, he looks at you. He swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he does.

“I’m sorry.”

When you don’t say anything he hastily continues. “I know that it doesn’t fix shit, but I…I still need to say it. And if I could I would go back and undo all the pain I caused you, I really would. I don’t expect you to forgive me, quite frankly I don’t even expect you to ever talk to me again, I suppose that’s fair. But if I don’t tell you how sorry I am now, I’m afraid that I never will.” He takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it go again, his shoulders slumping, almost like a deflating balloon.

“So, I’m sorry…for everything.”

He holds his tongue after that, gaze dropping down to his fingers once more. You don’t know how to feel, much less what to say. It was all so surreal. Hearing those words come out of his mouth felt almost like a fever dream and you wondered if you had perhaps managed to fall asleep after all and that this was just a fragment of your imagination, the universe pulling a sick prank on you.

But then you turn to look at him. He’s nothing like the Yeonjun who had hurt you for so many weeks. Right now he looks small as he sits on the couch, biting the inside of his lip as he nervously rolls his thumbs together. In the end you realize that no matter how you feel, there’s only one thing you can say to him.

“I forgive you.”

He freezes, teeth letting go of his lip as he slowly lifts his head to peer over at you. An almost puzzled look paints his otherwise tired face, “you do?” He sounds almost disbelieving as he studies you with a wary expression. — You slowly nod, watching as his eyes widen with recognition, he swallows. Then everything becomes silent once more. This time it’s a different kind of silence, it’s not comfortable but the air somehow feels lighter, if only a little.

You find yourself staring out the large windows. The sky had turned a deep orange now, shades of pink seeping through the cracks formed by the clouds. The darkness slowly makes way for the light as a new day rises before you. — You want to say something, now feels like a good moment to get things off your chest. But you can’t seem to find the words, your throat feels thick and it becomes hard to swallow.

“Please like me instead.”

At first you thought that you had imagined it. The faint whisper of his lips. But when he shuffles next to you on the couch, turning to face you fully, there’s no doubt about it. You tear your gaze from the warm sky as you glance over at him. In the morning light, Yeonjun looked like he was glowing. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, his dry lips, or even his unkempt hair; he looked truly beautiful.

“What?”

Your voice is soft, a low murmur, unsure and hesitant. He scoots closer, your knees touching as he places his hands on the cushion either side of him. “Like me instead. Instead of him.” Instead of Kai. He searches your gaze desperately as he bites his lip, leaning closer. — You don’t say anything, if you do, his statement would become real. You’re scared, you think.

But he doesn’t give up. “I know that you hate me, but please, I can’t stand it when-”

“I don’t hate you, Yeonjun.”

His mouth shuts, and he blinks at you, confused, brows knitting together. “What?” — “But you said..” You shake your head, turning away as you feel tears prick in the corner of your eyes. You hated how easily he made you cry, even when he didn’t intend to. “I lied.” You confess, shame and guilt overflowing your senses. “Why?”

“Because I was scared.”

As the words left your lips, you think that the two of you might not be so different after all. Maybe, just maybe. — Yeonjun doesn’t say anything, his attention dropping to your knees, barely grazing one another. His hand on the sofa twitches, as if he held himself back from reaching out, from touching you.

“I was scared of liking you.” Your quiet whisper felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders. A small murmur was all it had taken, so why had it seemed so hard? — His gaze shifts back to your face, his eyes wide as his lips part in surprise. “You were right all along”, you give him a half hearted smile, watching as his frown deepened. “I’ve always liked you”, you swallow, “even when I didn't want to.”

A pang of guilt takes over his expression for a moment as he internally cringes at your words, more so his own actions. “I thought it would go away if I told myself that I hated you.” You shake your head, glossy eyes dropping to your hands, the first tears threatening to escape at any moment. “It never did.” Your vision slowly becomes blurred as you blink away the salty droplets that fell down your cheeks.

You can barely see it, but you can feel it, the warm caress of his hand on your cheek. It feels nice, comforting, you don’t push him off, you don’t want to. He wipes your tears, the very same that he had caused. The faint whisper of yet another apology lingering on his lips. — Then he hesitates, you never saw Yeonjun hesitating, he always took what he wanted, did as he pleased. But you can tell that he’s uncertain of his next move. His eyes flickering between your teary eyes and parted lips.

In the end he decides to be brave. Slowly initiating what had been on both of your minds for weeks now. But when his lips meet yours, it feels different, this kiss is nothing like your previous ones. It holds no guilt, no shame, no secrets, it doesn’t feel forced nor desperate. It feels like an apology, remorseful of the past, and like a promise, a vow to the future. You can tell that he expects you to pull back, to tell him off, just like you had days prior.

Instead you cling to him, part of you thinks that this might be just what you need, another part says it’s stupid and reckless. But in the end, you want to be brave too. Even if that meant being stupid and reckless. — The stupid and reckless part of you lets him push you back against the soft cushion, lets him kiss you deeper, lets his hands trail across your body.

“I’m sorry.” He chants it like a prayer, littering your body in the light caress of his lips. You know he means it, every kiss, every touch, every apology. — His hair feels soft between your fingers, you twist the strands lightly, feeling him sigh against your skin. Yeonjun was usually one to talk in moments like these, but today there are no sarcastic remarks on his tongue. He’s quiet, attentively listening to the hitch of your breath, the small moan passing your lips, he doesn’t want to miss a single thing.

He tugs your tights off, his hands immediately soothing the goosebumps erupting on your naked skin. You think he looks pretty like this, basked in the first rays of sunshine, half lidded eyes rapidly moving as he trails them across every inch of your body. — His lips return to yours, fingers sliding between your legs just like they had so many times before, but this time it’s different, everything is.

He touches you slowly, he pays attention, he wants to know exactly how he makes you feel. Treating you as if you were made out of glass, worshiping you as if you were made out of gold. You become hyper aware of the way his body moves against yours, the soft pattern of his fingers sending sparks through your stomach.

You had been intimate with Yeonjun more times than you could remember. Yet as he lines himself up alongside you, it suddenly feels like the first. It feels new, nervous, perhaps even a little scary. But that was okay, you knew that he was scared too. — He goes slow, savoring the moment as his face rests in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry.” He can’t stop saying it, it’s never enough, it never makes up for the damage he’s created, he knows it. But you forgive him, you would continue to forgive him for eternity if he apologized for as long.

He groans against you, his voice is near trembling. Your hands are on his back, feeling the smooth surface of his skin, then they’re tangled in his hair, pulling him to look at you. For the first time it feels as if you’re seeing him clearly. Behind the lying, the cheating, the bullying, it was just him. Just Yeonjun.

As soon as the first tear rolls down his cheek, you kiss him. Tasting the saltiness on your lips, he sobs into your mouth. His chest heaves against yours, his once slow and deliberate thrusts becoming jagged and uneven as he fights to stay composed. You want to say something, but you don’t know what. Instead you pull him closer, so close that you can’t feel anything but his body against yours.

You stay like that, melted against one another. Hours pass, neither of you seem to mind. His breath is warm against your chest, your fingers are soft in his hair. The silence is light, comforting, reassuring. Your mind is filled with him, he’s all you can think about, all you want to think about. You know he feels the same, it’s comforting to know. It’s also scary, you’re not sure if you’re ready. But even then, you’ll at least be scared together, just the two of you.

It’s nice to not be alone.

⸝⸝

Monday morning also feels different. Maybe because you’re walking down the hallway side by side, you and Yeonjun. People stare, he tells you to ignore them, you try, and it works. You glance over at him, he looks happy, his step is light, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. You find yourself smiling, biting the inside of your cheek as you gaze ahead.

It’s not until you reach the all too familiar door, leading into your classroom, that you halt. Confused, Yeonjun stops a pace in front of you. “Is something wrong?” He asks as he studies your nervous posture, your eyes flickering between the now almost empty hallway and the door in front of you. The corridors were one thing, but the classroom held so many memories. Memories that wouldn’t just vanish over a day.

He notices your hesitation, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shakes his head. He reaches out, his warm hand enveloping yours as he grips it firmly. You glance between your interlocked fingers, and the small grin splayed across his face. — “I’ve got you, nerd.”

The small reassurance makes you smile, and you nod, letting him tug you closer as Yeonjun pushes the classroom door open.

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#beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #jjunie's dreams #yeonjun imagines #Choi Yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun imagines #choi yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x you #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt imagines

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daycourtofficial · 6 months

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Wingspan Matters

Summary: based on this request, you, Nesta, and Feyre catch your mates in a pissing contest over their wingspans

Author’s note: silly little crack hehe

Word count: ~1k

You poured yourself another cup of tea as Feyre and Nesta began squabbling over something you really couldn’t bring yourself to care about. You looked out the window, taking in the nice spring weather. A light breeze was flowing through the trees, causing the branches to move in a dance to the wind’s patterns.

You watch as the birds flit by, their song a lament to the end of winter, as if they too were sending their thanks to the Mother for spring to return. It’s the first warm day in months, the first day that your forearms won’t get cold being exposed to the air.

The life around you seems to dance and sing at the joyous return of spring - insects buzz past the windows, their high pitched frequencies a delight to your ears. You don’t let yourself think for too long about how the resurrection of spring will cause Cassian to snore even louder than before.

Perhaps you and Azriel can plan an escape to the Summer Court for a few weeks. Hopefully the distance and the crashing of waves will be enough to block out Cassian’s loud snoring.

You get lost in a daydream of laying on the beach with Azriel, either in the sand or in hammocks, applying a protective balm to his wings. The sun is warm on your skin, the salty spray of the ocean in your hair.

Muffled shouting disturbs both your daydream and whatever quarrel Nesta and Feyre were in the middle of. The three of you open the doors to the balcony, leaning over the railing to find your mates in a circle in a clearing on the property, their tan skin and large, dark wings making them stand out amidst the greenery that surrounds them.

Azriel was standing to the side, looking incredibly smug with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches his two brothers. Cassian has a piece of ribbon that he was holding up to Rhysand’s back. The two kept bickering, over what you couldn’t discern.

Before any of you could question what the two were discussing, Rhysand took the ribbon from Cassian and pushed him off. Cassian landed on the ground, but immediately sprung back up, his hands coming up and shoving Rhysand off the rock he was perched on.

“Looks like the bats are finally measuring themselves,” Nesta muses, bringing her cup to her lips.

You could hear Rhys’s laugh from the balcony as he sprung up, keeping low to the ground as he charged at Cassian, his shoulder hitting Cassian’s hips. He pushed Cassian into the ground, causing Cassian to push his weight upwards so the two of them begin rolling around on the ground, punches and curses being shared to and fro.

Feyre chuckles, “it seems Azriel’s already won.”

Nesta peers back to you over her cup, “I don’t think it’s just Azriel that’s won.”

“Don’t draw yourself up too short, Nes. I think Cassian’s in second place.”

Nesta looks back at you, eyes roaming up and down your frame, “I’m more surprised he hasn’t broken you in half yet.”

Feyre laughs as you reply, “you’d be more surprised if you saw some of the things we do.”

You waggle your eyebrows at Nesta as Feyre continues laughing, but Nesta’s not quick enough to hide her smirk without your notice.

“How long do we wait until we have them measure Feyre’s wings?” you ask.

Feyre thinks for a moment, hand on her chin, “maybe when Azriel gets a little too cocky.”

“Or Rhysand gets too pouty,” Nesta adds.

From across the courtyard, you could see Azriel’s amused smirk as his eyes met yours, a light tug on the bond urging you to keep your gaze on him. You smile, pulling back softly. He raises his eyebrows up and down a few times, and you send some amusement down the bond as you roll your eyes at him.

He stretches his wings out at your attention, making them as large as he can. You’re pretty certain you’ve seen birds do similar things in mating rituals, but the unfortunate thing is seems to actually be working on you.

He looks over to his brothers, still rolling around in the dirt, and gently takes off for a short flight up to the balcony the three of you are on. He lands softly in front of you, his wings creating a small wind, his chest glowing in the sunlight as his hands reach for you, pulling you into him by your hips.

You melt into him, arms going around his waist, your head resting over his heart as he supports your weight with the railing behind him. The warmth from his skin is soothing without being overbearingly hot.

“They make me want to gag,” Nesta tells Feyre, and you move your head so you can see the two pairs of eyes looking back to the two of you. Azriel wraps his wings around you, making you nearly impossible to see if it weren’t for your feet. You can hear the smile on Nesta’s face at her words, though.

You weasel an opening between Azriel’s arms so you can make eye contact with Nesta as you tell her, “he makes me gag too,” as you make an obscene gesture with your hand.

Nesta’s face immediately goes into her hands while Feyre chuckles, but her laughs are drowned out by the male in front of you, his laugh rumbling in his chest beneath your ear.

He peers down at you, one eyebrow raised in question. You nod slightly, and the two of you vanish into his shadows, leaving Feyre and Nesta to watch their mates continue to fight in the dirt, forgetting who really won the competition.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel x y/n #acotar writing

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saerins · 10 months

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°୨୧ INEVICABLY, UNDENIABLY

+ gojo satoru x f!reader | wc 3.3k | content: fluff, modern au, friends to roommates to lovers, timeskip thing; from high school -> adulthood, alcohol, implied sex, children, marriage, gojo is mostly clingy and annoying and we love him for it, the years and age correspond to his actual birthdate, take this as my birthday fic for him <3

summary: despite seemingly having it all, gojo satoru’s goal has always been the same all these years you’ve known him—all he wants in life is you, and only you. during his birthday this year, gojo counts his blessings.

2006; seventeen.

the day you agreed to be satoru’s partner in homeroom class is the day you signed away your sanity. not because satoru’s hard to get along with or that he’s rude or slacks off, but because it’s hard not to fall for a boy with such pretty eyes and even prettier lips who likes to say the most beautiful things.

getting to know satoru is like taking a deep in the clearest, coldest ocean after an entire lifetime of being dipped in molten lava. he’s annoying, refreshing and eye-opening all in one.

satoru shows promise in the first lesson, doing fairly well at cooking and sowing, although afterwards he just falls off because you end up having to teach him how to properly use alcohol in his cooking so he doesn’t burn himself or that you’d end up patching his fingers up since he accidentally pokes himself a lot more than the average human would.

still, it’s not his fault he isn’t naturally talented in the home economics department. he is in sports, you find out, after a few months of being in the same class as him.

“hey, y/n.” he’s leaning back on his chair, depending on its hind two legs for support. it’s become his habit during class to bother you whenever the teachers aren’t in.

you were assigned the seat diagonally behind him, and it’s become a habit for you to ignore him—mostly because most of the time, it’s nonsense that falls out of those lips, especially after you’d gotten close. it’s his sign of affection, you realise.

“hey y/n, i’m being serious this time, i need to talk to you,” satoru whines, pouting and sighing in that over dramatic way that only he can.

that’s also not the first time he’s tricked you into acknowledging him so all you do is look at him, a smile appearing that you failed to suppress, and bring a finger to your lips, signalling for him to hush.

unperturbed, satoru smirks and gets to scribbling on a piece of paper, folding it (annoyingly and quickly) into a swan before handing it to you. he winks at you, and you’re immediately driven not to give him satisfaction by reading it. instead, you bow slightly and stuff it in your pencil case, making satoru pout again and giving yourself the sweet taste of victory.

the rest of your sophomore year in high school, you find yourself growing closer to satoru, an unfamiliar feeling growing inside of you. you find that you like knowing what makes him tick, and even the way he says your name, or even watching him ace every kind of sport and then having him blow a teasing kiss to you after each win.

“y/n, i’m so jealous of you, how’d you manage to get gojo satoru of all people?” one of your classmates whine, swooning endlessly over him.

you only laugh it off, deigning to think too much of it.

it’s weird; he’s most of the schoolgirls’ crushes, but you’ve never considered him to be yours. maybe it’s just a fleeting feeling that will go away with the test of time.

yeah, that should be all that is.

2007; eighteen.

“why not? we’re practically going to the same college.”

with time, you thought that maybe satoru would become a little more sane. like how growing into adults, you slowly shed the ridiculous dreams you had as a child. but he’s not, if not—he’s even more insane.

“we haven’t got the results yet, satoru.”

“i’m pretty sure we’ll get in though.”

“and what’s your basis for that?”

“i’m never wrong about these.”

as always, satoru lives in his own little bubble and you can’t help but to sigh. in his head, both of you will get into that same college you applied for and he has it all planned out: “we get into college, sign up for whatever classes, and then rent an apartment together—genius right?”

that was satoru just moments ago, elbows leaned over the grocery cart as he grins at you, beaming like a dog waiting for their owner’s approval. now he’s still doing the same, except you’ve flicked him on the forehead before turning your attention to the aisles because apparently, he says he hates the food at home and would rather have what you’re cooking.

he’s made it his life mission to invade your meals over the weekend, squeezing himself into your family, bonding with your sibling and your parents and only then did you realise what you forgot in the first place: satoru is one of the most charming people to ever walk the earth. your siblings constantly ask about the next time he’s coming over, and your parents are just waiting for you to announce that he’s your boyfriend—which he’s not, but he sure likes to make it seem that way.

another thing you notice about satoru thanks to your now-weekly grocery runs: he likes to wander around way too much, and complains afterwards when he finds you after losing you.

“y/n!”

it’s like routine by now; the way satoru rushes over to you, putting his arm around your shoulder and sticking his cheek against yours, telling you how he almost died because he thought he lost you—like the drama queen he is. by now, all you can offer him is a ruffle of his hair before you carry on like normal, as though your heart isn’t beating right out of your chest from that simple proximity.

because satoru, despite his generally icy look, is always warm; his body heat, his cheeks, the way he looks into your eyes all the time, even his fingertips when they brush against you.

you think he’s especially warm when he falls asleep beside you after watching a late night movie, his head nuzzled in your neck, hands somehow rested over your own. your favourite thing about the friendship, though, try as you might to deny it, is how satoru’s hands always find yours when he walks you home, fingers lacing around your own as if it’s second nature.

ever since then, these routines have become a staple, and perhaps even does your growing feelings. the inexplicable one.

2008; nineteen.

satoru was right.

both of you did get into the same university, and the same course, with different minors so at least there’s some differences. so of course, satoru did not let the shared apartment idea go. though, of course, thanks to your initial hesitance on the matter, the only available apartment is a 4-bedroom, entirely too big and hence you’d convinced satoru to just rent the other bedrooms out for extra change.

and no, satoru does not need extra change because his family’s loaded (which you realised you didn’t even know before this) but at least this would allow you to not dwell on whatever you’re feeling too much. university is going to be stressful enough without the added consideration of your possible feelings towards satoru.

then enters geto suguru—your new roommate who, thankfully, steals enough of satoru’s attention so you have some breathing room. turns out, they’re like two peas in a pod. but while you and satoru major in business, suguru majors in psych. so that still means satoru’s around just you most of the time.

some routines change; like how movie nights are shared amongst the three of you in the living room instead of just you and satoru in your room. or how during grocery runs satoru still runs up to you when he finds you again except this time, an exasperated suguru is beside you sighing at him, always a “how do you stand this guy?” rolling off his tongue. the most surprising one for you might be how meals include suguru now and satoru’s the one who does the cooking now, and funnily enough, he’s absolutely great at it. no ounce of hesitation as he flips the pancakes, or stirs the fried rice—no whining about how it’s too hard because he’ll get burns on his fingertips and has to ask you to tend to his wounds.

but some change in a different way. they leave no room for someone else, like how satoru always finds your hands to hold on to, keeping you within a reach too close to pass as just friends but both of you refusing to label it anything else anyways. it leaves no room for other people to butt in and whisk either of you away.

and for now, at least, both of you are okay with just that.

2009; twenty.

participating in different activities and clubs inevitably mean that you and satoru wouldn’t be attached at the hip most of the time. and of course, while that leads to satoru becoming even clingier when you’re both home (not that you’re complaining when it’s nice to feel wanted from the very guy you’re completely not having a crush on), both of you are in separate social circles.

satoru occasionally has his friends over, the ones you don’t really know that well. the one where you can only remember names like haibara because he’s extra friendly and yuki because she’s one of the prettiest people you’d ever seen and nori because she’s a mix of the two. you’re nice, and cordial to all of them, although you can’t really say the same for satoru.

occasionally you and suguru invite your friends over, because nicely enough, you both have the same interests. it’s mostly shoko and nanami, a med student and law student respectively, but both of which satoru loves to annoy to no end. lucky for you, shoko is strangely naturally tolerant of his antics and nanami shrugs it off as white noise.

“y/n, surely you’d rather spend time with me rather than that blondie?” satoru always asks, pouting as he looks at you over his shoulder during breakfast—a constant whenever you have plans that involve nanami.

it’s kind of cute.

“mmm, that’s a secret,” you’d always tell him, knowing that satoru’s pouts won’t last all day anyway. it’ll relegate to an excited grin whenever you’re back after that.

you’d never really had to face your feelings, then, until all of you gather one night, before the holidays officially start. you should’ve known that something would be different this time, especially when there’s alcohol involved. naturally, in the circle you sit in, satoru asks people to scoot over, purposely sitting beside you, as close as he can, close enough that your arms and knees practically brush.

it’s just for a simple game of truth or dare, and it’s innocent enough until someone asks nanami and he says truth, and his truth is that out of everyone he knows, he’d most likely date you. beside you, while everyone else is whooping at the declaration, satoru clicks his tongue in annoyance, though he says nothing about it. and you’re not really emphatic about it until someone dares nori to kiss the guy she wants to date the most and she kisses satoru, deep and slow, in front of you, haibara letting slip that she’s had a crush on satoru for a while now.

satoru’s five shots in and tipsy and he was imagining that was you and maybe that’s why it lasted for five seconds before he pulls away.

and when it comes to satoru?

as though noticing his dilemma, suguru gives an amused smile as he states his dare, “kiss the girl you most wanna marry.”

he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you close and kissing you, his alcohol-tainted lips pressing against yours, daring tongue teasingly prying open your lips, chuckling as he feels you kiss him back.

“not most,” satoru corrects right as the both of you pull away, his forehead still pressed against yours and both of your half-lidded pair of eyes still staring at each other.

“what?” you’re almost breathless, forgetting that everyone else is watching.

“the only girl i wanna marry.” and you think he’s never looked more handsome, genuine smile plastered on his face and pretty blue eyes threatening to pull you in.

while everyone moves on, satoru doesn’t—he keeps you there with him, telling you for the first time in four years since he’s known you, “i love you.”

the next week, after you get home for the holidays, the first time being away from satoru in a while, you manage to find your old pencil case, the folded paper swan satoru folded for you all those years ago still inside, somehow forgotten.

curious, you finally open it, finding his message enclosed inside, bringing a smile to your face.

i’m gonna marry you one day.

2010; twenty-one.

dating satoru is like finding a new hobby that you’re effortlessly good at.

despite living under the same roof, instead of finding out the ugly, you find the good in each other. even with suguru in the mix, you all live harmoniously like you have been since the start. except now, satoru likes to sleep in your room, both of you fooling around and occasionally forcing suguru to tell you to pipe down.

satoru is still full of surprises, sometimes pulling up with his car as though both of you don’t sleep under the same roof, telling you that he planned a date and to dress nice. he buys you flowers even if you’re not particularly fancy of them and surprises you by buying things that simply reminded him of you.

dating satoru is like finding out that the right person for you will always think of you and your feelings, no matter the circumstance. the way he makes sure to tell you if he has to hang around nori, or the way he asks if you need anything when he passes by the grocery store alone, or going so far as to memorise your cycle so he knows exactly what to show up back home with.

by the time it’s your one-year anniversary and his birthday comes and you ask him what he wants, all he can answer is “you” and for the first time, you can tell he isn’t trying to be annoying or cheeky or flirty—satoru is surprisingly simple and his answer always has been and somehow always will be just you.

2013; twenty-four.

you still remember the day satoru got down on one knee, his handsome smile even more radiant under the golden hour glow, those still-beautiful blue eyes gleaming even from beneath his bangs.

just an intimate proposal with your closest friends, both shoko and suguru helping to distract you in order to create a successful surprise, while nanami and haibara helped with the decorations and photography.

thanks to them, you’re laughing now, at your wedding reception, looking at all the ways you nearly found them out that day, exactly one year ago, in the form of pictures. and thanks to the best man’s toast, you find out that suguru’s always known about satoru’s feelings, and just how deep his emotions for you ran.

“i won’t forget how much he whined about y/n getting close to nanami. that was probably the one time his whining got so out of control that i wanted to stuff a pillow over his face,” suguru divulges, garnering laughs around the hall, including from you, as your new husband pouts and squeezes your hand.

thanks to that, nanami finds the need to disclose during his speech, “i have never intended to date nor had such thoughts about y/n. my truth during that game of truth or dare was simply the result of a process of elimination—” and haibara cuts him off to give a more fitting speech, fits of laughter all across the room.

that day, you steal glances at satoru, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone who loves you so much and continuously proves so with every passing day.

“satoru?” you call to him softly that night, as you both find yourselves completely bare in the bedroom of your new apartment, one to yourselves.

his piercing blue eyes flick up to meet yours, relishing how it feels like inside of you, every time as though it’s the first. “yeah?” it’s breathy, because he’s about to lose himself.

“i love you, satoru, and only you, forever and ever,” you tell him, finally knowing that in this life, it will always be gojo satoru for you, and that it’s the same for him too.

he only chuckles, pulling you close, “forever me and you, baby, only us.”

2023; present day.

“wow, more than ten years, i think i need to give you a trophy for that, y/n.”

satoru groans, rolling his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

beside him, suguru laughs at shoko’s comment. this time, the six of you find yourselves at a round table in a seafood restaurant during satoru’s birthday, talking about how it’s you and satoru’s tenth year together too.

“i’m not too much, am i?” satoru teasingly asks you, although you only shrug in amusement before drinking your glass of water as an excuse not to answer.

you’ve always been like that, but it’s part of what satoru likes about you. scratch that, he’s loved every part of you since he met you. it’s like it was meant to be; or so he likes to think. there’s an undeniable pull that always lulls him back to you. to satoru, there’s never been question that you’re the only one for him, maybe that’s why it’s so clear-cut.

“you’re just so head over heels for me, huh?” you ask him, a smug grin on your face, the conversational context something he’s missing since he’s been zoning out in his thoughts.

since the first time he saw you, he’s been drawn to you every second of every day. maybe that’s why he did all those stupid stuff like pretending not to be able to cook and ‘accidentally’ burning himself to get you to tend to him, or purposely pricking himself with the needle and asking you to put a plaster over it just to feel you close. even those times at the supermarket when he purposely loses you so he can find you again and see your helpless smile and feel the way you rub his head affectionately afterwards.

maybe it’s stupid too, how he had to silently admit he knows how to cook all too well because he didn’t want suguru to taste your cooking when he first moved in. it was something satoru felt he wanted to himself, something he wanted to keep between him and his future wife. or how a wordless stare between him and suguru during that game of truth or dare was all suguru needed to know that satoru wanted to make you his at that very second, afraid that kiss between him and nori would make you hesitant.

he shouldn’t have underestimated you though, because you know him better than most people do. there were never any pointless arguments or unrecoverable friction.

as they sing happy birthday annoyingly loud like best friends do, chanting for him to make a wish—his hands find yours again as they always did, he can honestly say that there’s no other way he’d rather live his life. you’re made for him and he has you and the little mini yous at home so really, there’s nothing that he has to wish for.

except, maybe, one thing, if he could be selfish.

in this life, and every other life, he’ll want to be with you and only you, forever.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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mickyschumacher · 3 months

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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 & 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and charles have been dancing around each other for a while now. it's time to bring the theatrics to an end. or in which charles decides to cross the line of 'just friends'.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex (wrap your willies), teasing, titty lover!charles, fingering, not really public sex but sorta, bathroom sex, p in v, oral sex, mutual orgasms, cumming inside, reader has a vagina

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: guess who's back?? back again! yes, it's true. i have finally actually written something! (if anything blame my uni, work, and internship.) proofread-ish as per usual! hope you like it ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

It was no secret.

There was nothing clandestine about those bluey greens eyeing you from across the room nor the discreet yet purposeful brush of your fingers when you passed each other.

The hitched breath when you felt him behind you was audible over the loud chatter and clinks of glass. You could almost see his dimpled grin from the back of your head as the cameras flashed in your eyes.

Your gaze darted to the feel of his hand grazing your arm, its linger falling into a debate, itching to find your waist. But much like your cat-and-mouse relationship, his hand remained at the border, merely hovering.

"Chérie," Charles' voice whispered in the shell of your ear. Sweetheart.

You sucked in a sharp breath, struggling to keep your eyes on the camera at hand. With your fingers clenching at the satin material of your dress, you hummed quietly in response.

"Don't panic but your dress is stuck underneath the buttons of my shirt."

"What?" Brows immediately furrowing, your head innately turned only to be nudged back by Charles. You pouted. You should’ve known the cream spaghetti dress that had been in the back of your closet and screaming to be worn would pull something like this.

You pressed your lips together and held your breath once again upon the feel of Charles’ hand on your waist. “After the photos, just walk with me and we’ll fix it, hmm?”

Your head nodded before your brain could even refuse entering such a dangerous territory. The minute of waiting for the cameras to stop flashing was torturous. The bright lights were making you sweat enough as is… and now you were playing the waiting game.

A quick ‘thank you’ slipped from Charles’ mouth, accompanied by a nose of acknowledgement as he led you away from the mob of people you couldn’t care less about.

Your heart was in a hard game of tug of war, slamming heavily against what was your chest but felt like your ears. You could feel the straps of your dress nestled underneath the buttons of his shirt, making Charles cling to your back.

You tried your best to give small smiles to the people you passed, recognising very quickly the route you had taken to fix your hair a couple minutes before the event.

A relieved sigh fell from your lips upon arriving to the bathroom, managing to hear the click of the door over your heartbeat along with the amused huff arising from Charles.

You narrowed your gaze towards the Monégasque, meeting those sparkly ocean eyes through the large mirror in the centre of the bathroom. You rested your hands on the quartz bench, stilling yourself as you felt the warmth of Charles' body radiate off of him.

"In rush?" Charles queried, moving his eyes to the side of your face. His heart skipping a beat or two as he watched the corners of your mouth rise up.

"Hardly." you quipped back, feet restlessly tapping against the marble floors.

Charles smiled softly in response, moving his hands to the back of your waist. His teeth sunk into his lips at the feel of your sharp breath. Goosebumps littered across your bare skin as his fingers grazed the nape of your neck and gently moved down. Gingerly playing with the straps of your dress, he took his time with each one, ensuring he could feel the warmth of your skin.

Very slowly you could feel the straps becoming unstuck, pulling away from the tension of his buttons. Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek, carefully watching Charles through the mirror. "Are you done?" you managed to whisper, not having even an ounce of trust in your voice.

"Yup..." Charles pursed his lips, pretending to furrow his brows as he purposefully unwinded and winded the straps around the buttons of his shirt. "... nearly."

You could feel the final strap detach itself from Charles, letting a little air roam between the both of you as he removed his hands. Almost immediately, you turned around, eyes widening at the sudden proximity. Your ears burned at the way his eyes darted across your face as though he was trying to take in every single atom of your being to memory.

Your throat felt dry. But you managed to play the amused smile. "You are such a liar," you retorted to his previous behaviour.

Charles' dimples devilishly twinkled at you. "I hardly think that's a crime. If anything, you're the criminal here," he said, hand moving to move one of your loose tresses past your ear.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and raised a brow. "Oh? Do tell. You shouldn't leave me hanging."

It was Charles' turn to suck in a sharp breath, intentionally taking a step back to let his eyes rake over you. "Well, walking in today with this dress was one thing..." he started, taking a step closer to you before he put his hands on your waist, trailing the warm skin of your back ever so softly. "And now this..." he grazed the straps of your dress.

A gentle laugh fell from his lips, the blue and green hues moving to your face. "I didn't get to tell you earlier but you look beautiful today," Charles whispered, making your skin flush a red that only he could bring out.

Curiously you watched his eyes follow his own fingers, trailing every curvature and crevice of your face, memorising the softness of your skin, every texture he could bring himself to feel. "I can't even believe you're real," he murmured, on the cusp of falling into a trance.

Charles spotted your furrowed brows and smiled. "Sometimes I think I'm living in a dream and I just... made you up."

You blinked blankly in spaced increments, unsure how to respond as your pulse quickened. There was level of mutual understanding from what he had said. You, yourself, weren't sure if Charles was real.

Whatever you had harboured for him had changed the way you lived.

How was it possible that the very world you lived in was only brighter with his presence? Even the sounds of it's functioning sounded sweeter with him. As though the world had been waiting for the very intersection of time and Charles itself to spin again.

Before Charles could even muster a response to his admissions, he felt your hand brush against his cheek moments before your warm lips met his and closed the distance between the both of you. It was brief but Charles thought that momentarily the world has stopped spinning, leaving only the both of you to exist in this continuum.

"How was that for real?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper as you pulled away to rest your forehead on his. Your blood rushed to the surface of your skin, dotting your body with shades of pink and red while your hands shook at your sides.

Charles' chest heaved, voice thick with emotion as he watched you close your eyes with some sort of magical fear. He breathed out slowly, thumb reaching out to tilt your chin up. Comfort filled his chest upon seeing your glittering eyes. He smiled. "Not good enough."

His hands travelled to your face with a speed unbeknownst to you, bringing his lips to yours. Your sweet fragrance was intoxicating, unwillingly infiltrating his very being but accepted with open arms.

A sigh of pleasure fell from your lips as your body began to show signs of malfunctioning: mind in a state of lavender haze, knees buckling, goosebumps littering every inch of your skin.

Your hands reached out, feeling the taut waist of Charles and bringing him closer towards you. Your mouth quirked at the feel of his teeth grazing your lips, momentarily pulling away from you as though he needed to catch a breath of air.

But Charles didn't need it that much. Not when he could elicit a shudder from the tips of your feet as his tongue delved past the soft confines of your mouth. Not when he was sure that the tightening of your hand on his shirt was going to undo him.

You felt dizzy, needing to part your lips away from him. The sounds of your breaths heaving reverberated throughout the bathroom. Charles' lips were still on you, grazing the skin of your neck as he rested his hands on your waist.

Charles' voice was hoarse, as if the words were coiled in his throat and he could only just get them out. "J'attendais de faire ça… depuis toujours." I've been waiting to do that… for forever.

You smiled softly at his words, thumb gliding over his hand. "Would it be crazy to say that I've been dreaming about this moment?"

You weren't crazy was what Charles would've said if you hadn't taken his ability to speak away from him. Charles would daydream about this. It consumed his very being. Every second that raced by, every minute that flitted by, every hour that brought the night closer... it was all you. Everything and nothing was you.

Your teeth sunk down on your swollen lips, head tilting to the side. "We should probably get back to the party," you so maturely advised only to feel Charles' grip on your waist tighten.

"I really don't want to," Charles mumbled, chin nestling into your collarbone.

A small laugh slipped past your mouth. Cheesy to say, but it was music to his ears. "Charles, it's your party. You kind of have to."

"I'd rather just sit here with you." Charles removed his chin, blue eyes planted firmly on your face as he moving your hair behind your ears. His hands fell to your arms, gently tugging them towards himself while he took comfort sitting on the marble floor. "God knows how many seconds I've missed without you. I need to make them up."

You stared at him in awe, entirely baffled at his way with words. You could only smile in return, taking his hand to sit down on his lap before they found their new resting place around your waist once again. Your own hands were no different, hanging around his neck as you held his gaze with a gentleness beyond him.

Charles closed his eyes upon feeling your fingers in his hair. He could hear your sweet voice surround him. "Well..." you started with an amused tinge to your voice, "what are we going to do in here?"

Charles peeked open an eye, a small grin forming onto his face. "I can think of a few things," he suggested with a faux innocence.

You shook your head, suppressing your smile. "Your ideas wouldn't involve anything disgraceful, would it?"

"With you?" Charles questioned, eyes twinkling with a familiar tint of mischief. His head neared yours, hovering over your lips before finding the surface of your collarbone. With a lingering kiss, he spoke, hot breath flowing past your dress and down the valley of your breasts. "Never."

A shaky breath escaped your lips, feeling Charles' teeth skimming your skin, peeling off the straps of your dress from your shoulders while his hands busied themselves with the intricacies that had gotten you into this situation in the first place.

Moving your hands out of those straps, gently you shimmied off as much of the dress as you could, letting it pool at your waist.

"Oh fuck," Charles whispered under his breath, taking in the sight of you. "Belle." he praised, moving his lips down the valley of your chest, absorbing the warmth of your skin. Beautiful.

Your lips parted, letting a soft sigh fall, hands running through Charles' brown locks. The feel of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs made your heart race while the coolness of his rings against your searing skin made you shiver.

"Shit," you gasped as Charles' tongue found your pebbled nipple, head lolling back to push yourself into his touch. The grip of his hands on your thighs became tighter at your sounds. He took the time to circle your mounds, lathering them with every inch of himself, teeth purposely grazing to send ripples down your back.

Charles' pants felt impossibly tight, bulge pressed up against your thigh, only inches away from the burning heat between your legs. A small grin made its way onto your face, hips rocking forward.

You carefully watched the pure bliss sprawling across Charles' face as he moved away from your breasts. His hands moved from your thighs to your lower back, creeping towards your ass. Your eyes closed, feeling his clothed cock grind into your pussy, hands in his hair now firmly gripping those brown locks.

As the hairs of your body stood straight, an electric current seem to run through you. You felt dizzy again. But this time, it wasn't mind-numbing. No, you felt alive. Every sense was heightened. The soft lips of Charles' messily trying to kiss you, attempting to resist the collapse you were bringing him under as you ground into him. The sounds of your hot and heavy pants mixing together with only the pray it was covered by the music of the party. The unconscious feeling that someone could knock on the door that practically catch you was thrilling.

Charles could only just hear the moan of his own name fall from your swollen lips, lost in all the lewd sounds and desires whirling within him. He forced his eyes to open, breath falling into stutters upon the sight of you. A hum of acknowledge was all he could muster, for the fear he would entirely fall apart under you overwhelmed him.

He intently watched your lips, brows furrowed ever so slightly. Trying to understand what you were saying was proving to be difficult with this newfound lust-ridden tinnitus in his ears. But he was sure he understood you. Whether you said it backwards or in another language, the look on your face would tell him exactly what you begged.

"I need you."

Everything happened in a rush. Neither of you were quite sure how it happened nor when.

You both would remember a few glimpses: the desperation of Charles' hands trying to take off his pants, the feel of your hands on his chest, taking what felt like forever to undo the menacing buttons of his shirt, your heaving chest shuddering as his tongue found its way to the valley of your breasts yet again while he pulled off your dress, and the sparkling tint in your eyes when you found his gaze spelling out those three special words.

Charles' carefully watched your body quiver, your own eyes following his hands as they dipped between your legs, gently traversing your throbbing core. The whimper from your mouth as his finger took a stripe of your folds made him feral.

Your eyes followed his fingers, watching your arousal coat him entirely. Charles grinned, letting his dimples touch you in the right places. But his voice was nowhere near as light. "So wet. For me?" He queried with a harsh strain on his chords.

You moaned at his words, nodding as though you were hypnotised. "All for you," you responded, surprised at the rasp of your voice.

From that point out, you were simply a mess.

You had imagined what it would be like to feel Charles' fingers in you but God, it was better than anything you had ever come up with. The way his fingers pushed into your pussy, thrusting in and out at the most tantalising pace was chaotic. The occasional ghost of his thumb over your clit sent currents of pleasure so sharp it had you in shambles.

You couldn't help but buck your hips into his hands, greedy for more. And Charles was more than willing to help you fulfil that burning need. He pushed his fingers in further, making your lips part upon the feel of his cold rings against your scorching core.

"Oh fuck," you cried out, suddenly finding it almost difficult to breathe.

Again, Charles kept his eyes on you. Focused on the way your back arched for him while your body writhed at his touch. He was as insatiable as you were, moving his fingers faster, curling them at just the right spot, feeling the walls of your pussy clench around him. All the dreams he had of you gripping his cock were now beginning to flash through his mind.

You hands shot out to his arms, fingers sinking into his skin only slightly. "Charles," you mewled, "I'm going to– I..."

Fuck, you couldn't even finish a sentence. The end of the tunnel was so close... white was beginning to dot your vision, the tingling feeling sitting in your core that had been coiled up was now unwinding...

But it was your most unfortunate fate that greed had too infected the Monégasque. Any white light you had seen had reverted back, grounding you in reality.

"Charles, no, no, no... please," you begged, watching his fingers come out of your core, leaving you clenching around nothing.

Your pleas were terrifyingly turning Charles on by the second. He leaned forward, bringing his lips to quiet you with a soothing kiss. "I know," he murmured softly against your lips, voice strained more than ever. "But I really need you."

You were so caught up in your own pleasure, for a moment you had forgotten about Charles'. The entire time, his hard cock had been pressed against his stomach, standing in an angry and aching pain, pleading to be touched.

The rushed return of your lips upon his was enough to tell him to what he... what you both wanted.

Charles' hands moved to your waist, shifting you ever so gently over his cock. You watched the brush of his cock against your engorged folds send him into a state of convulsion for a second.

Christ, when was the last time Charles had felt this vulnerable? As though he was genuinely sure he couldn't last a second any longer.

"Putain." A high-pitched hiss spilled from his lips as he ground his bare cock against your pussy, savouring the pure craze he sent you by grazing his tip against your clit. Fuck.

"Cha, please, please don't tease," you whispered with your eyes closed, unsure whether you could handle this any longer.

Charles managed a soft smile, only finding himself in agreement with your words. He let out a shaky breath, aligning his length with your body. He looked up at you once again, finding your eyes now fully on him. "Tu vas bien?" Are you okay?

You smiled in return, nodding. "Perfect."

Charles grinned, keeping his eyes on you as he moved his hips, gently pushing his cock into your warm folds. His lips parted, watching you carefully adjust to the stretch he had brought. The sheer pleasure running through his spine could barely be put into words. "Chérie," he rasped, "can you take some more?"

You paused for a second, letting out a low blow at the mere sound of how needy Charles was. Slowly you nodded, head lolling back as he fully unsheathed himself into you, filling your every crevice with him.

His hips began to snap against your own, swollen lips pressed up and groaning against the skin of your neck. His cock rutted into you, feeling your walls grip him tightly as he imagined, allowing him to relieve the aching torment you had brought him under.

For a moment, in the lust haze, you wondered if anyone could hear you out there. You wondered if they could hear the obscene sounds coming from the both of you: the lost moans or the slaps of your sticky skin covered in a worked-up sweat as Charles pushed deeper into you.

Charles was also in a similar conundrum. He wondered if who else had seen you like this. And by this, he meant the blessed sight before him. The way your hair stuck your flushed cheeks, the absolute dazed look in your eyes, the angelic whimpers of need, the way your necklace shined against your skin, or the dance of your eyelashes as you looked at him... you were beautiful.

Charles' hands gripped your waist even tighter, his moans becoming more repetitive. Your ears perked at the sound of your name falling from his lips.

"I..." Charles began, voice drenched in an emotional frequency only you were tuned into. "I..." he breathed, holding your gaze.

For a mere flit of a second, you could the glassy sheen over those perfect eyes of his and you knew exactly what he meant.

"I know, Charles," You softly murmured, "Je t'aime aussi." I love you too.

With the deeper thrusts and a grazing brush over your clit, you could see those white dots again as your body began to shake. The vice grip you had on his cock told Charles everything he needed to know.

A silent gasp fell from your lips. Your surroundings began to blur, orgasm hitting you in waves, each one harder than the one before. In the midst of the flood, you could hear Charles' moans. "Tell me where to cum, please," he groaned, fastening his pace.

"Inside," you responded, only hearing a guttural moan fall from Charles' lips, his own hips stuttering to the music of your voice.

Again, you could feel him in every crevice of your pussy, but this time your walls had been painted with ropes of his warm cum spilling into you. And you clenched around him, taking every single last drop you could get.

Charles felt your body gently collapse against him, equally as tired and fucked out as him. He smiled gently, pressing a soft and exhausted kiss to your forehead, feeling you return a small kiss on his chest. "Je t'aime... pour toujours." I love you... forever.

You kept him close to you, hugging him tightly. "...et toujours. And always.

The pounding music of the party slipped past the cracks of the locked door. You spotted the clothes you had sprawled across the floor and winced. Pulling your body from Charles, you giving a cheeky smile. "So about that party..."

Charles blinked, also hearing the music. He groaned, head falling to your bare chest. "Please no."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

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orionsangel86 · 4 months

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About Dead Boy Detectives getting renewed or not. I know people may have cast judgement on this show already, or maybe watched the first ep and deemed it not for them for various reasons (the first ep is a bit clunky and full of exposition) but I promise you, hand on heart, that if you watch the series through to the end it will have you hooked.

If you are generally a fan of fantasy genre shows, loved Supernatural, Good Omens, The Sandman, and all those CW shows that were so popular back in the day, then I promise you I PROMISE YOU you will LOVE Dead Boy Detectives.

If you're still indecisive about it, not sure you want to commit to a show that may get cancelled again, or are generally put off by a show about teenagers (though NGL these are CW style teenagers aka twentysomethings lbr) then I beg you to give it a chance.

If you were a Lockwood & Co fan who is still bitter about its cancellation and views DBDA as a glorified replacement, I promise you are wrong. The premises for the two shows are actually very different. I've seen both and DBDA is definitely worth your time.

It keeps getting better and better every episode and by episode 7 you'll be so blown away you'll be desperate for another season, just like EVERYONE who has watched it through.

I havent yet come across a person who watched the whole show and came out thinking eh it was alright but nothing special. No. EVERYONE who watches it to the end raves about how wonderful it was.

PLEASE give it a chance. PLEASE watch it through. Its such a good series and it deserves renewal.

Please spread this post, please scream about DBDA as much as possible. Please encourage your friends to watch it.

This show is an absolute precious gemstone in an ocean of mediocre television. Please give it a chance

#dead boy detectives #the sandman #dbda #spread the word #watch this show!

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coco-loco-nut · 4 months

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loml

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: a journey through your relationship with max

a/n: so for a little background... my ex (he wasn't an F1 fan, it was never gonna work, let's be real) broke up with me the night before this album was released, so writing this series has been very healing; however, this one was extremely difficult to write bc it's the only song i can't analytically listen to and find the deeper meanings yet, especially after losing your first love. sorry for the rant and making this short🙃

tw: emotional abuse, manipulation

masterlist ttpd masterlist part two

________

You and Max were fan favorites, it was evident to anyone with eyes who had eyes. But they say you never know what happens behind closed doors.

“She’s the love of my life,” Max would always say about you, looking at you like you held the universe in the palm of your hand. His fans could recite your love story by heart from how much he loved to talk about you. It only made sense that he could shatter that public opinion.

“Y/n and I have divorced, I would like to ask for privacy as we navigate the changes,” Max posted one day, his socials wiped of everything. Your accounts remained the same, your last post being from the fateful race months ago. You haven’t posted since. The fans should’ve realized when the WAGs and George unfollowed Max.

Your apartment was full of things that reminded you of Max, every time you walked in it reminded you of every memory. He was embroidered in everything. You look at a printed photo of when you first met him. Despite it being six months later, you couldn’t get rid of him.

~~~

All it took was locking eyes with him across the pier for you to fall in love on that breezy summer day. He walked up to you and asked you to join him, and you did. You kissed him at the top of the ferris wheel later that night, and you didn’t even know he was famous all you knew was that he made you feel safe. The breeze reminded you of the warm ocean breeze from that day, one you called the winds of fate.

Despite being young, you married him after a year of being together. Things weren’t perfect even then, he could be incredibly mean, but he was also a standup guy when it mattered. That erased any wrongdoing of his.

“You have made me a better man, you reformed me, the love of my life,” Max had said that fall evening, repeating the one line that brought you back to him every time.

You believed his words, his lies spun to make you believe the hell you were living in was actually heaven. When he takes his anger out at you, doesn’t defend you against his father, you start to second guess him but he calls you those four words.

“I’ll never leave you, Schatje,” Max holds you in his arms, your back against his chest as you both look at a tv in the Paddock. The fans loved that photo, calling your love legendary. They didn’t know about the growing hole in your heart.

Your marriage was looking like one of those black and white movies you and Max watch on snowy winter afternoons. You and Max had been talking about starting a family, but you couldn’t get pregnant and you were watching everything you loved slip away.

“God, Max, you are like a con-man. I feel like I’ve been sold a get-love-quick scheme. What happened to you?” you ask, voice laced with hurt, during an argument about it. Max just ignored you, pushing past to stream with some friend. He ignored the sobs coming from your bedroom. He told the chat that you are the love of his life when asked about you.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” some of the WAGs pulled you aside during a race. They told you how Max was shit talking you to other drivers, saying you were a waste of a wife for your inability to get pregnant, saying he should’ve never married you, pointing out every flaw he told you was beautiful when he was lying to your face. You stand up and leave, not saying a word even when the girls try to stop you. Max is confused but simply responds to your text saying you were sick with an okay.

You are laying in your bed sobbing when Max gets back from the race. You face the terrace, where you and Max would dance under the stars. You can see the ghosts of it through your tears, and you wished you could un-recall when you thought you had everything.

“Please get out of bed,” Max says, his concerned tone laced with venom. Maybe the ghosts of your relationship are embarrassed by the scene on the other side of the glass.

“No,” you cry, mourning the loss of your counterfeit relationship.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Max sighs leaving the room. You sent a text to the WAG group chat who helped you remove all your belongings from Max’s apartment into George’s apartment that he wasn’t using at the moment.

Your phone is flooded with messages from Max, so you turn it off unless you are talking to your lawyer. Max finds a divorce petition and your apartment key on the dining room table when he comes home from training a few days later. The relationship that had such a valiant roar ended with the blandest goodbye.

You sit in George’s apartment with Carmen and Lily drinking wine. You took over George’s lease after they insisted that you did.

“For someone who claims to be a lion, he sure is a manipulative coward,” Carmen says as the three of you comb through the years of lies he spun.

You took the dreams that you thought you and Max wanted and lit the match to destroy them with your divorce papers. Despite your somber eyes, you seem more at peace, even with the sadness you will carry with you until you die.

“He’s the loss of my life.”

part two

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid #max verstappen #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #george russell

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blackhairedjjun · 4 months

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aquarium date with yeonjun

short yeonjun x gn!reader thoughts, established relationship, pure fluff, inspired by his instagram photos | 562 words

every day you are reminded of why you're so damn in love with yeonjun.

for example: today, on the surprise aquarium date he brought you to, you find yourself watching him more than the actual fish. you can't help it - you love the gleam in his eyes when he watches a stingray passing by, or the little shoulder shimmy he does when he mimicks a fish swimming in a funny way, or the way he turns to look at you when you pass by the shark tank.

"did you see that?!" he says, his mouth open and eyes wide. his head whips back and forth between the shark and you. "so cool..."

he stops plenty of times to snap photos of his favorite fish and send them to his group chat with the boys, or to his chat with you.

"but i'm right here," you say. "why do you need to send the pictures of the fish?"

"i know you're gonna ask for them after, so i'm sending them right away," he says with a wry smile. "we can look at the pictures together in the car."

you smile in response, your eyes crinkling. yeonjun thinks it's the prettiest thing in the world.

what you don't know is that he feels exactly the same way - while you're mesmerized watching a school of fish dance is a wide circle, he snaps a photo of you. he stops for a moment to admire the awe adorning your face captured at the right time. then, while you're standing in front of a giant glass pane surrounded by nothing but blue, he snaps another photo. how grand you look surrounded by a slice of ocean, he thinks and smiles to himself.

"what are you looking at?"

you catch yeonjun smiling at his phone at waltz over to him.

"at you," he says, and shows you the photo.

you gasp. you hate most photos of yourself, but you have to admit that this one is beautiful: you're posed in front of a canvas of blue, the dim light of the aquarium framing your silhouette. the portrait has an otherwordly yet calming quality to it. it makes you look like a divine spirit of the ocean.

is this how yeonjun really sees you?

a smile spreads across your face as you look at the photo, then up at yeonjun. you see softness in the curve of his smile and light in his eyes. he pockets his phone and reaches his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers with his.

you lean towards him and glance down at his exposed shoulder where his jacket has fallen off. the urge to shower him with affection rises. how could someone so sweet, so kind, so beautiful, be standing right next to you?

you give in to the urge and leave one kiss on his shoulder, then another, then another...

he looks at you in surprise. a few moments of silence linger as the sensation of your kisses sinks in. and then:

"you drive me crazy, you know?"

and he pulls you toward him, holding you close and swaying you from side to side in between giggles. the aquarium displays are completely forgotten when he's too busy squeezing you and peppering your face with kisses.

every day yeonjun is reminded of why he's so damn in love with you, including today.

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt drabbles #yeonjun drabbles #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #txt imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun soft thoughts #yeonjun soft hours #bhj: violet's works

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harrysloveboat · 1 year

Text

John B’s Girl | PT. 2

Read Part 1 here.

Summary: John B comes face to face with the ugly truth and reacts in the most expected way. JJ can’t hold back anymore, willing to risk it all for one person. All the while (Y/N) deals with the consequences of her choices.

Word Count: 27.5K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, soft!dom JJ, DARK!JJ, fluff, choking, subspace, clit play, degrading, slight daddy kink, slight mention of anal, physical fight, very minor mention of abuse, blood play, biting (just once), a little thigh riding, JJxCameron!Reader, JohnBxCameron!Reader etc.

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I accidentally took this one shot farther than intended and my life got in the way while writing so it was delayed😭

I hope you guys enjoy it and that it was worth the wait! I was also listening to Chris Briney’s playlist while writing parts of it so feel free to play that while reading🙈 pt.3 coming soon, comment on the taglist if you’d like to know when it comes out❤️

JJ’s mind was reeling as he departed the van with a quick tug of his shorts and a clasp of the button.

He had stepped on his red hat when jumping out, mindlessly dusting the sand off of it without a care as his legs led him back to the fire pit. JJ was simply going through the motions, doing his best to ignore the way the fabric of his boxers dragged against his softening member. He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip, tasting the remnants of her sweet peak. The hat was placed on backwards to cover his tousled hair from view. He could still feel her on every indention and arch of his toned body. Believing one time would truly satiate his need for (Y/N) was a complete joke.

It was a cruel and ridiculous notion.

If anything, that’s all he could think about now. A small taste wasn’t enough, he wanted to suffocate between her legs and leave her quaking. Fuck her mouth until she had pretty tears streaming down her cheeks and saliva dribbling down her chin. Make her scream his name until she went mute. JJ had half a mind to turn around and act on impulse before Kie’s curly hair popped into his frame and refrained him from completing his body’s request. She was wearing a frown, brown eyes searching behind JJ while speaking. “Hey J. John B’s been looking for (Y/N) for a while apparently. You seen her?”

Yeah, I was fucking her in the van.

JJ let out a small breath at his thoughts, shaking his head innocently. “Nope. No clue,” he lied knowing she was probably still recuperating in the van. But he played the part so perfectly, feigning worry to mirror her state. His ocean blue eyes aimlessly flickered through the crowd without actually zoning in on anyone. “Does JB have any clue where she is?” It was hard to contain the mixture of emotions he felt for his best friend at the moment.

On one hand, John B taken it too far involving an unwilling JJ into his cruel game. Using him to get his revenge on (Y/N) and getting off on forcing him to watch something he was forbidden from claiming. On the other hand, John B’s initial reservations about their behavior was proven more than accurate by the fact that his girlfriend was most likely getting dressed in the Twinkie after JJ had just gotten done railing into her.

“You guys find her yet?” Pope’s intrusion at his right side brought him back to the conversation at hand. Kie sighed, genuinely growing more worried as time passed. “No.. I mean, it’s not like she could’ve went far? She came with us and I doubt she’d leave with Rafe without telling us,” Kie crossed her arms over her chest faintly recalling the oldest Cameron hanging out with Topper a while ago but (Y/N) wouldn’t have just left with him. Things between the two siblings had been tense for a while now with her dating a Pogue. “Well I just saw him flirting with some poor Touron so that’s not even an option,” Pope’s confirmation was layered with disgust not able to imagine what poor girl would fall for his antics.

John B appearing out of thin air from the crowd was what really made JJ zone in fully.

Neither of them had to say a word for the air to grow tense. John B hadn’t really taken the time to watch JJ’s reaction when (Y/N) unraveled in front of him, but it was easy to guess that his best friend had caught on. The fact that JJ didn’t seem as worried as the others fed into the foreboding dread he was trying to pretend wasn’t there. They turned into two alpha males fighting over territory the second they made eye contact. Standing proud with chests puffed up, oozing testosterone into a suddenly hostile setting.

“Lost your girl JB?”

He didn’t have to poke the bear but JJ is simply a victim of his true nature.

After all, it was John B who chose to start this. How could he be blamed?

The smirk that played on his otherwise innocent features sent John B into a spiral. His hand would form a fist and then loosen, only to repeat. The unspoken words JJ was attempting to convey were being understood perfectly. Kie looked between them, becoming aware of the undeniable tension swelling in the air. A lid was about to blow off and Kie wasn’t sure if it would be John B or JJ to lose it first. Pope was as oblivious as ever, checking his phone to send (Y/N) another text.

“I saw her for a little bit.”

John B’s teeth gritted as he took a step forward. The implications the blonde haired boy was making was only triggering the residual jealousy inside of him. He would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his girlfriends eyes when JJ demanded her attention. It was like a punch to the kidney remembering the pause she took when being introduced to him. John B wasn’t one to normally struggle with his worth, but it was too easy to assume that things might’ve turned out different if JJ had been the one who got the job with Ward Cameron instead of him.

“I’m picking up some weird vibes..,” Kie interrupted with a tentative tone, eyes flickering between the two.

John B was a giddy kid on Christmas morning watching the two girls mingle on the boat. (Y/N) Cameron was actually sitting on the H.M.S. Pogue in a sexy little one piece bikini talking to his friends. And she was dating him.

“JJ’s not gonna like her.”

“JJ has to like her.”

“Yeah but he’s not going to.”

“You’re killing my mood Pope.”

“She’s the Kook Princess for fucks sake.”

“If you’re cussing that means you’re really mad,” John B was partially teasing. Pope was hitting too close to home without realizing it. JJ’s been his best friend since the third grade. Everything significant that ever happened to JB always made its way back to JJ. Anytime he skipped school, JJ was the one who led the charge. Any idea or scheme, good or bad, was brought up between the two before anyone else. Hell even the grinded herbs spilled on the floor of his guest bedroom belonged to none other than his partner in crime.

JJ not liking his girlfriend because she was a Kook just wasn’t an option.

Pope rolled his eyes while carrying the cooler (Y/N) and Kie had packed off the deck. “I get ignored but I’m always right,” he mistook his friend’s carefree attitude for confidence. There was just no way Pope wasn’t going to be right about this. There wasn’t a walking Kook on Outer Banks that didn’t receive the bad end of one of JJ’s stink eyes or his colorful language. The Kook Princess and her knight and shining armor at the time, Topper, were the main topic of many drunk rants about social inequality.

John B pensively knocked against the wooden railing with his beer can, accepting Pope’s prediction. “Okay well- we can always leave them stranded so they can work their shit out,” John B threw up a solution to the mix. Pope dropped the cooler before giving him a pointed look. “It’s truly scary how quickly you came up with that,” he was a little impressed and frightened at the same time.

Pope’s gaze moved behind him, heavy footsteps giving way to the queasiness that came with jitters. “Fishin’ for some drum today boys?” JJ’s chipper voice put an end to their discussion and forced fake smiles. Pope began undoing the rope tying them to the dock with a quick nod. John B didn’t have time to react with his special guest already making her way towards the cooler that Pope had brought on board. The time he thought he had to come up with a plan disappeared. Kie scrambled up at his arrival to help diffuse any situation that might unfold while John B shifted to face his girlfriend and best friend. “(Y/N) this is the last member of the Pogues, JJ Maybank. JJ, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N) Cameron. Thought she could come with us today,” he introduced them formally.

The rest just seemed to happen in slow motion.

His blue eyes landed on her, hair at the end of her ponytail drifting towards her left shoulder with the gust of wind. Cheeks flushed with a light shade of pink that JJ didn’t know the name of, but found himself suddenly wanting to. She reached up to lift her designer sunglasses from the brim of her nose to the top of her head. He swallowed hard, caught off guard by the gleam in her eyes that matched the magnitude of the suns’. Her glossy lips were moisturized by some chapstick JJ needed to know the flavor of. The bikini was black, with two openings at the side and simple spaghetti straps that only put emphasis on her chest. Every alluring inch of tanned skin was prompting him towards her.

The only time she ever really crossed his path was during a tussle with Topper or Rafe. He never really had the time or interest in concentrating on the Kook Princess.

Which in reality made a lot of sense to JJ.

Because he felt like he was actually seeing her for the first time. Like he didn’t even know who she was until now.

“Nice to properly meet you JJ, I- uhm..- I brought some beer over,” and it was the pause in her sweet voice that really sealed the deal.

(Y/N)’s field of vision was consumed by JJ. His muscular arms in the sleeveless gray t-shirt were shimmering with sweat. The cotton fabric hung low exposing the defined lines of his collarbones. The sun lit up the sapphire color in his eyes and sharpness of his jawline. And normally, normally, (Y/N) had a hatred for baseball caps. The way they ruined your hair after wearing them for too long. Or how the little hole in the back never sat just right with her ponytail. But today? Her entire perspective changed on them as she caught sight of the singular loose strand of hair falling onto JJ’s forehead. The red hat was facing the opposite way, blonde locks poking out under the sides of it. For heaven sakes JJ had a damn toothpick snug between his lips.

How could she not be thrown off by him? He was the epitome of a bad boy that would probably be haunting her dark dreams in the upcoming future.

“I didn’t know Kook Princesses knew that beers existed.”

With his playfulness, the stress in their surroundings dissolved.

A quiet snort on her end and his boots landing on the boat was the end of it. The big explosion they’d prepared for amounted to nothing more than a shared beverage and banter that was borderline flirtatious.

“Well… that could’ve gone way worse,” Pope noted from John B’s side.

In retrospect, it did go way worse.

“Everything okay?” (Y/N) called out to them from where she was making her way up to the huddled group preventing the storm that was brewing from unleashing. Her breathing was still uneven, fingers fiddling nervously with the shiny cross necklace at her neck. The vibrator still made it difficult to walk with the way it would slide inside of her restricting her from forgetting about the incident in the van but she was satiated for now. Able to process other thoughts than just JJ. Guilt was at the forefront of her conflicted emotions. Everybody but John B and JJ looked at her. They heard her but they hadn’t even broken their stand-off to acknowledge her presence.

Kie shot her head around to (Y/N) exhaling a sigh of relief since she appeared uninjured. But at a second glance, she noted the tangled mess of hair that had been miserably patted down and ran through. The subtle rise and fall of her chest to finish catching her breath. The crimson color painted on her cheeks that ran down her neck to her shoulders.

“Everything’s great now. JB was lookin’ for ya and I was just telling him that I’d ran into you,” JJ’s smirk widened. He was just having too much fun playing into the obvious suspicion that danced in John B’s brown eyes. It was hard to not want to blurt it out right then and there, that his little game hadn’t worked out the way he intended it to. The bittersweet moment that would eventually come when John B pulls the vibrator out was enough motivation to keep his mouth shut. A side of JJ he wasn’t aware of was coming out for vengeance.

(Y/N) had to physically stop herself from jabbing her elbow into JJ’s side. She wanted to come clean, tell John B the truth even if it would be devastatingly difficult to remedy. She owed him that now. “Yeah, by the fire pit. When I wasn’t feeling well. I had to get some fresh air,” it was sort of the truth. (Y/N) couldn’t pick this moment in front of everyone to be honest. She just wanted to make sure that he found out through her and not by opening JJ’s present.

“Mhm,” JJ hummed digging his fists into his pockets. It was her lie that bled false hope into John B as he finally broke with a peek her way. She was staring at him, silently pleading to back off with her big doe eyes. JJ couldn’t blame him for relaxing with one look her way, she had the same affect on him.

Pope adjusted his flannel with a heavy breath. “Well I don’t know about you guys, but that was a lot for one night. I’m ready to go to bed. And Pops ran me down dry today,” his body was still sore from all the deliveries and inventory he had done at the shop earlier. It was indeed getting a little late for all of them now. There was a good amount of liquor in their systems so calling it a night wasn’t a bad idea. Kie was still feeling unconvinced though. Nothing that was being said was wrong but it was the way it was being said. The heavy emotion that weighed the trio down. And of course, JJ was acting far too odd and smug.

“It was a lot for one night, huh?” JJ’s head whipped around to her then. He was so obviously referring to the fact he had busted a weeks load, who was he kidding, a months load of frustration into her. (Y/N)’s knuckles turned white around the chain feeling the way JJ peered down the front of her body and stopped at the end of her dress. Her body would be undeniably hot if anyone was to touch it at this very instant. “Yeah, we should get home,” her voice was shaky as she stepped toward John B, outstretching her free hand to him and rewarding JJ’s audacity without a glance over.

He wound his fingers around hers, letting her be the one to calm him down and wash the anger away. He didn’t bother looking at JJ again as they began walking because he’s afraid he might punch the stupid smirk off his face if he does. (Y/N) had accidentally already done that for him by taking John B’s hand.

“I tried-,” John B squeezed her hand lowering his voice as they walked a few steps ahead of their friends, “getting your attention.”

The vibrating noise the toy made against the metal flooring of the van echoed in her ears.

“Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock.”

(Y/N) jumped out of her skin at the mention of the device. She cursed whatever higher power had led John B to making this purchase. Her skin crawled with the flashback it brought on. She was even angrier at herself for still being turned on by the way JJ had fucked her into utter submission. If she’d been in her right mind, she would’ve taken it out and wiped herself clean. But JJ had left her dazed. Perplexed by the intensity of pleasure and shame from not feeling guiltier than she should.

“I turned it off.”

“You.. turned it off?” John B repeated, shock evident on his features. There was never an actual contract between them with a set list of rules or anything but they were dabbling in punishment and handing over control so it didn’t make any sense to him. Why would she do that knowing what would ensue? It crossed his mind that it could’ve been because he took it too far moments before she vanished. He wasn’t dumb enough to ignore that it had been careless of him to push her like that in front of JJ. He felt a little bad about how inconsiderate it had been to do that as they reached the van. John B didn’t say another word as he furrowed his eyebrows and looked ahead.

There was an odd white tint on the windows leftover from their indiscretion. Like the kind caused by fog that dried up. The smell inside wasn’t any better. Some of it escaped with all the doors opening but it was still present when the engine switched on. Kie and Pope were scrunching up their noses as (Y/N) sunk into her seat, head resting against the window wishing she could become one with the car door. Her heart beat a little quicker as she inhaled the sweat and aroma of sex.

If anybody deciphered exactly what it was, they chose not to mention it.

But it enveloped (Y/N). Hugged her tight and flooded her with what were now sinful memories. Shutting her eyes, her fingertips skimmed across the top of her thigh timidly, the one where JJ had left a hand impression on the side. It sent chills through her body to relive the way his face dug into her. Her thighs retreating into one another as she pictured the almost black eyes watching her come apart under him. If anything served as the biggest reminder, it was the vibrator neatly tucking in JJ’s cum into her squirming body. Her hand moved upwards to pull her hair to one side and squeeze the back of her neck in an effort to calm herself. It was a mistake, a huge mistake to tilt her head back. Because the tormentor of her daydream was already burning holes into her.

JJ could see the lust flash through her eyes. Even from the backseat he could feel the heat emanating towards him. Watching her felt different now. He wasn’t getting a glimpse of her inappropriate thoughts, he was reading them. Observing how they popped up with every touch of her hand. Seeing the sweaty skin displayed by her bare shoulder firsthand and the hint of a darkening bruise that would be visible to those in the backseat if she moved her hair another inch. His fingers itched to replace hers. Going mad with the realization that she was thinking about him. It was his name she had been screaming earlier. The cause of her affliction was JJ this time. His chest was moving a little quicker now that her eyes were confirming what JJ suspected. His hand shifted downwards to tug on his shorts and fix them before his hardening dick became obvious.

“Guys I know this is technically John B’s van, but can you minimize the intimacy in the van. It reeks,” Pope waved his hand in front of his nose dramatically while requesting that one of the two in the front rolled the window down. They had almost managed to get away with it when Pope just had to go and open his mouth about it.

The curve of JJ’s lip tilted upwards as Kie delivered a detrimental blow to Pope’s arm. She was already suspecting something and with the silence in the van intriguing her further, Pope making this type of comment was just unnecessary. (Y/N) couldn’t look at JJ’s triumphant expression for another second longer though.

John B gave a very short and curt, half hearted laugh, hands tightening around the wheel. His chest felt a little tight. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember when the last time they’d had sex in the Twinkie was. It definitely wasn’t recent enough for it to linger this way and it definitely hadn’t been present earlier. Anger flared within him while trying to remain blissfully ignorant as to the obvious signs in front of him.

The eerie quietness for the rest of the ride was only made bearable by the music playing on the radio. Everyone was too distracted in their own thoughts, exchanging wary glances back and forth. Even JJ found John B scowling over at him quite often, but he simply kept his eyes on (Y/N).

The van coming to a stop awoken everyone out of their distractions. John B was the first one out, walking with purpose to get to (Y/N)’s door and reaching it before she could even lift her hand to the handle. Pope left the back first, talking about the leftover cereal from (Y/N)’s little shopping trip he just needed to eat before bed. Kie began to exit, slowing down when she noticed that JJ wasn’t moving at all from where he was sat. If she took her time, she’d be able to catch him by himself and ask him what the fuck was going on.

Her plan seemed to work pretty well considering John B gripped onto (Y/N)’s wrist to pull her inside not paying any mind to the others. The constant loop of emotions was only infuriating him more. The car ride felt hours long, giving him time to envision several scenarios of what might’ve happened. Trying to get rid of those images was proving to be more difficult. He didn’t even realize how upset he actually was until they reached the front door and (Y/N) wiggled her wrist in his grasp. “It hurts,” she was nervous, not because of him but because of the conversation that awaited.

John B eased up on her a fraction of a second after she spoke. He didn’t bother looking back though, boosting (Y/N)’s nerves. “John B,” she tried quietly as he urged them through the living room, through the hallway, and into his bedroom. She could faintly hear Pope rummaging through the cabinets before his bedroom door was opening. Her pulse quickened, the panic bubbling inside of her. But he was unwavering. Setting off an attack of anxiety-fueled nausea through her. Every rushed movement was beckoning her closer to her confession. He wasn’t letting her get a word out, shutting the door behind them. “John B,” he ignored her, urging them over to sit (Y/N) down on the bed.

“Why’d you turn it off?.. When did you turn it off? Where?.. It’s still inside you though, right?” He didn’t actually expect a response to the extensive questions he was throwing her way. He was moving too rapidly to give her time to answer them. John B didn’t even know if he actually wanted to hear what she had to say. He grabbed the hem of his shirt to rip it off. His lips were set in a fine line, overlooking the tears swelling in her eyes as his knees met the wooden floorboards.

(Y/N) made a steadfast attempt to keep herself covered but his hand boldly flung the dress up. There was both anger and lust etched in his expression. His hands grabbed onto her knees, lunging them to opposite sides with eyes glued to one place and one place only. A choked noise left her lips at the direction he was going towards.

“We need to talk,” the dreaded words every man loathed hearing. He focused in on the sight of the red lace that had a slight bump over it where the vibrator was located. The discussion she wanted to have was the last thing on his mind right now. He chose to exist in the expectation of how this night was supposed to go rather than the reality.

“I don’t want to talk right (Y/N),” he insisted. Her cheeks felt wet and palms clammy. Lungs constricting in a frightening way with a heavy chest as she stumbled through finding the courage to spit it out. All the while he moved at too rapid of a pace for her to process. Attempting to close her thighs went horribly wrong, his hand flying over to keep them from closing.

It was purely on instinct. But unbeknownst to John B, his hand covered up the bruise left by his best friend. She winced from the pain, fingers twisting around the edge of the bed. His hand moved from there to the hem of her panties, snapping them to the side.

“John B stop,” her pleading went unheard due to the ringing in his ears. His fingers latched onto the end of it and began to pull it out.

The air escaped her lungs.

Her hand flung out to swat at his hand but his brawn was no match.

“John B- JJ and I-,” despite her cry, it was too late.

It felt like everything in the planet and beyond became deadly silent.

A pin could drop and you’d hear it in Australia.

He only managed to get it out halfway before the milky white substance was seeping out from the sides.

The next millisecond was the longest John B had ever experienced. His face went pale. There was no way for her to explain herself out of this one. The sight was so distinct. It was so obviously cum that didn’t belong to him. Every stress-filled interaction crashed together inside him in a long-awaited train wreck. The way his throat would dry when JJ would go silent into a trance upon (Y/N)’s bubbly entrance. His blue eyes would get just a little brighter at her goofiness and matching banter. Her laugh would be just a smidgen higher when he did his very JJ things. She’d melt whenever he would sweetly request something of her, in a way that was supposed to have been a joke from both sides. However, the punchline to the joke seemed to be him.

In the millisecond that followed, John B lurched away from her like she had caught fire. The feeling of disgust was a harsh contrast to what he was feeling before. The woman before him was one he didn’t recognize any longer. It couldn’t be his (Y/N) sitting on the edge of his bed. No. That girl loved him. That girl would’ve never done something like this. A sound was made as the sex toy fell out the rest of the way reminding him that she indeed had. His blood boiled with rage. The edge of the panty line snapping back and startling her out of her anguish.

“John B I’m so sorry-,”

“Are you fucking serious?” He seethed watching as she jumped up from the bed, tears falling down her cheeks while struggling to catch a breath. But he pulled back from her letting his anger fuel the desire to see her vanish from his vicinity. “Don’t fucking touch me,” his voice boomed out, making her flinch away from him. She’d never seen him this furious before. It was her fault though. She deserved his reaction.

John B didn’t need to ask who was to blame because he already knew the answer to that question. Even with his name falling from her lips moments as he took it out, the clear image of a smirking JJ from the Boneyard asking if he had lost her made him lose it. His best friend was to be held just as responsible. Before he could properly process what he was doing, the door swung open with determination. The sound it made as it hit the wall echoed throughout the house alarming everyone and undoubtedly leaving a doorknob sized hole in its wake.

(Y/N) chased after him, knowing exactly who he was looking for. “No John B,” she called out after him, sprinting to catch up to him. Even though he just looked like he was walking, his speed was astonishing. His head scanned around the empty kitchen and then the living room where Kie was bouncing up from the couch with wide eyes. “What’s wrong? What’re you looking for?” she asked exasperatedly, quickly reaching the conclusion that John B was fuming. There would be steam coming out of his ears if that was actually possible.

“Where’s JJ- I’m gonna kill him,” John B stated without hesitation as the toilet flushed from down the hallway. Before John B could get to it, (Y/N)’s palms were pushing back at his rock hard chest, muscles tight from rage.

“John B stop- this is my fault. It’s mine, nobody else’s but mine,” (Y/N) could barely keep in the sob as John B reacted quickly, moving away from her once again. His eyes were dark and empty, face completely emotionless except for the red hot anger. The sight of him becoming physically ill from her touch shattered her into pieces. Her body was shaking. She knew this is what would happen but nothing could’ve actually prepared her for it. Nobody warned her about what it would feel like to watch the love someone has for you drain from their face.

“I said don’t fucking touch me. Why are you even here, huh? Thought it would be fun to slum your way through Pogues?” John B’s hurled accusation was meant to hurt, meant to be offensive. He wanted her to really feel the same pain he was. He thought one day she might leave him for his best friend. Had pretended like it was his mind playing tricks on him. Never in a million years did he think this would happen. He was unable to breathe properly as he stared intently towards the opening bathroom door. He stretched his neck out to see who it was, only relaxing it back when Pope emerged from the bathroom. “What’s going on?” he gazed around at everyone having heard the door and shouting from where he was, eyes eventually honing in on the state (Y/N) was in.

John B laughed with no humor behind it and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. JJ fucked my slut of a girlfriend. My best friend fucking creampied her,” his head shook in disbelief, “He fucked her in the van while we were all looking for her,” John B’s voice was laced with venom watching as she curled in on herself without caring about how she felt. He put two and two together easily. The way she recoiled at the accusation only confirmed it, setting him off further as he took a step forward. “He did didn’t he? You opened your legs for him in the fucking Twinkie.” This was different from when he called her dirty names in the safety behind closed doors. He meant these humiliating words. Her crying was the only thing heard in the momentary silence. (Y/N) covered her chest with her arms as if to protect the imaginary physical wound that he inflicted. “Woah dude- wait, you’ve gotta chill out,” Pope moved with caution between him and (Y/N), holding his hand out to stop John B from moving any further. Not because he’d do anything, because the situation was getting too heated. He was hearing a bit too much information than needed, but if any of it was true he knew John B was on a unstoppable war path.

“Where’s JJ?” He was steady in his pursuit, unbothered by his friend who was trying to settle the situation at hand. “Jesus- He left! I talked to him outside and he left, alright?!” Kie yelled out at him, pulling his attention to the girl. “You’ve gotta calm down. Fighting him and hurting her isn’t gonna solve anything,” Kie reasoned in a slightly lower volume, but nonetheless still loud, while laying an attentive hand on his shoulder. Usually it was (Y/N) doing this. Asking him to cool off without speaking, just looking. It was a harsh reality to accept that she wasn’t. The disappointment to find out JJ hadn’t even made it past the front door was clear in the way his hand jerked. He swirled around on his feet to face (Y/N) again, looking past Pope.

“Get out.”

“John B, please let me talk to you.” Her voice was horse from all the crying. It was without a doubt asking for too much to have a civil conversation with John B right now. But her heart was squeezing in her chest and she couldn’t bare the thought of leaving things like this. Her mind struggled to find any words that would bring him peace. There was probably none that would. She had tried to avoid this… hadn’t she? Didn’t she keep asking him to stop? Or couldn’t she have just pulled away from his hold? The fact that was even a question in her mind made her chest swell with oncoming tears.

John B stiffened up taking another step forward that landed Pope’s hand onto his chest this time. “(Y/N) get the fuck out!” The conviction in his voice made her bottom lip quiver. Kie was angry at her but it was also difficult to watch (Y/N) break down like this. Since she’d joined them, they’d been inseparable. It was nice of course to have all the boys around but there was things she could talk to (Y/N) about that she couldn’t with them. A sense of trust and friendship that had formed during girl talk. She knew there was no excuse for her friends actions, but it was still difficult to watch the fallout unfold. “I’ll take her home and then I’ll be right back,” Kie offered as she went to the couch searching for her keys figuring that would be a way she could help them both. “Kie get her out of here right fucking now,” John B’s nostrils flared not having the capacity to continue looking at (Y/N).

“She’s going man, she’s going. Let’s just go outside,” Pope tried leading him out the back while Kie smacked a pillow in frustration, wondering where she set her keys down before they left.

But it was all too much for (Y/N).

The pure disdain from John B was appropriate. The way they were referring to her in third person now, as if she’d never been a Pogue, was also fitting but it all pierced her heart. She’d lost him and the rest of her true family over what? A hook-up? Another notch on JJ’s belt? She didn’t even have a clue.

“Don’t worry,” (Y/N) grabbed her phone making her way to the door as Kie moved to stop her, “I’ll get home. Just stay with him.”

Kie called out for her in an effort to get her to rethink and wait just a few more minutes for her. But either she didn’t hear it or she chose not to.

The way the screen door slammed behind her seemed to signify the end to a lot more than what she could yet imagine or even handle.

Her legs were wobbly as she made her way down the beaten path. It took her a few minutes to gather her strength before she was able to walk away from the house without tripping over nothing. The adrenaline racing from the intensity of the fight urged her legs to move faster. She couldn’t help but punish herself by reliving every second of it. The look on John B’s face when he removed the toy made her insides churn. The image would be scarred into her memory. It seemed like every other special, beautiful moment they shared was erased from existence. She wanted to turn back time, find a million different ways to come clean that didn’t include a stupid fucking vibrator. Without even noticing, her sprint gradually tripled in speed until it turned into full fledged running and weeping down his neighborhood. A car past her by at some point but she didn’t even see it through the haze of her tears.

With time passing by faster than she noticed, she felt her chest slowing to a calmer state and cheeks drying. It was only then, when every heightened sense took an undeserved respite, that her speed lowered. Things were more visible now that it felt like she had cried every drop she physically could. It only felt like minutes in the middle of her attack, but she’d managed to make it quite a distance. The convenience store John B normally drove to when he picked up some late night cravings during her periods came into view and almost made her collapse in the process. Walking to her house from here would most likely take the whole night and (Y/N) probably could make it if she was feeling extra ballsy. But as she eyed the dimly lit street ahead and the little twenty-four hour mini-mart that threatened the shaky stability she had found, she knew tonight was not that night.

Her phone screen lit up her face, swiping up to open the device when it recognized her. (Y/N) let out a trembling breath as she made her way to her Uber app, ordering one to her current location so that she could be dropped off in Figure Eight. Once it was charged to the card her dad had opened for her, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her dad really only checked her account to re-up her money so there wasn’t a high chance of him questioning her on a late night Uber drive when she was supposed to be sleeping over at Kie’s, but even if he did see it, the argument that would ensue seemed vastly unimportant compared to everything else.

A wave of emotions risked another waterfall. In contrary to her previous belief, apparently she might never stop crying. Waiting there for the driver, all she could think about was John B. The coldness he aimed her way. He had meant every single belittling word and (Y/N) felt like it was well-deserved. She wanted to blame JJ. It would be so easy to do it considering the predicament she had been in when he followed after her. One that he had been very well aware of.

But as much as she wanted to do that, the truth was she wanted JJ in that moment. Not John B, but JJ. The look in his blue eyes when they were sitting in front of the bonfire had ignited a buried desire for him. There was actually way too many instances where she had craved JJ in the way she had him tonight. Odd moments where they were left alone for one reason or another, creating tension amongst themselves with inappropriate thoughts and stolen glances of the other. It was really her fault for not admitting it to herself sooner. All of this could’ve been avoided if she had stopped lying to herself.

The honk of the horn brought her back from her zoned out state. (Y/N) made her way into the vehicle that matched the one in the app, giving the man a weak smile. He asked her something, but her brain didn’t make sense of it. She curled up into the door similar to the way she had in the van earlier, choosing to get lost in the palm trees rather than hold a meaningless conversation with someone she’d never meet again. The silence he was met with was a clear indication that she wanted to opt out of the friendly chatter and arrive at her destination.

The driver picked up the hint, starting his drive to the address given without another hitch. Even blessing her with the grace of ignoring the faint weeping in the backseat. She was torn up inside, grieving the loss of her boyfriend while also struggling with whether she actually regretted it or not. Saying she did would just be a distasteful lie. Confronting John B over this had sent her headfirst into the veracity of her feelings.

The rest of the drive felt empty. There wasn’t a living soul out when they rode down her street. Her own house had all the lights off, it gave off an eerie looking vibe at this time of night. The driver came to a stop at her gate, letting her get off there so she could enter through the gate door next to the car entrance. Her mumbled thank you was politely acknowledged with a small wave and head bow before she exited.

The walk from the warm car through the freezing temperature of the night to the coziness of her bedroom was exhausting in her numb state. She was beyond glad no one was awake because she didn’t have the energy to deal with her dad who would pester her with questions. Or Wheezie who would try to get all up in her business for nothing other than the sake of living up to the stereotype of nosy little sisters. Rose would just put on her motherly act that seemed to bother her too much to play well so it would just end up sucking more energy from (Y/N).

And Rafe- well Rafe might be the only one that could cross her path. He wouldn’t care enough to even notice her presence. But he was most likely still at the Boneyard with the other Kooks anyways inhaling too much coke.

A relaxing bath sounded perfect right now, with some bubbles and candles. She could play one of her mellow playlists in the background. Something relaxing, not sad, because she’d be right back where she started. She didn’t know if she’d actually retrieve the candles from the second floor linen closet or even have the energy to search for her speaker but at least the bubbles she could reach from inside the bathtub. The rest she could leave up to her imagination.

Her feet dragged all the way up to the third floor, past the expensive paintings and family portraits, and to her bedroom. All of the lights in the hallway made it hard for her to see in the pitch black of her bedroom. (Y/N) preferred it that way anyways. Her back rested against the door once it shut, one hand on the doorknob still feeling like she couldn’t get a decent amount of oxygen into her lungs. Her head lifted just to bang back on the door delivering a sting to the back of her head that didn’t actually quell the emotional pain.

She was about to go into her bathroom when she saw the infamous red baseball cap on the grey chair, lined with silver around the edges, that sat in front of the window. The moonlight pouring in from the window was shining down on it like a spotlight, alerting her to the presence of the boy that seemed to be everywhere lately.

The fact that it was in such perfect view made her tilt her head slightly, not looking away from it. It was almost like he had made sure to leave it in sight so that they could bypass the obvious jump scare that would’ve occurred otherwise. Her back stood a little straighter, heart caving just the tiniest bit at the gesture.

And that’s exactly why JJ had done it. Her bloodshot eyes and lifeless expression were proof he’d been right in doing so. He had wanted to be there for her when they got out of the van, gut still twisting with the way John B had grabbed onto (Y/N). But he was aware now that he was just a coward. With no clue as to how to make it up to her. After the conversation with Kie, he’d gotten on his bike and rode away. He was supposed to go home, face Luke’s wrath about his week long disappearance since the Chateau would obviously be off limits for the foreseeable future. But the pull he felt was strong, as powerful as gravity.

That’s how JJ had ended up pacing on the other side of the wall that separated Ward Cameron and the rest of his Kook family from the outside world. He was drawn to a place he’d never stepped foot in. He’d only gotten as far as the driveway the one time he road with John B to surprise (Y/N) and pick her up for a rowdy night. They had watched her slip out of her bedroom window and proceed to climb down the enormous tree next to the roof. He’d been enamored by her that night like he was all the time, thrown off by her spontaneity. Every corner JJ turned, he found another reason to fall for this girl. It hadn’t taken him long to decide to hop it once the image of her pretty face remained too long in his imagination. The possibility that she might be a little… hostile about his intrusion didn’t dissuade him.

He’d already been there for a long time, enough to wonder if he’d made the right decision in coming. He started off with sitting down on the same seat the hat was resting on before moving towards the edge of the bed. When time kept passing, he laid down on the comfortable king sized mattress. Then he discarded his articles of clothing until he was in his boxers, not wanting to dirty the comforter. He knows she’d wave off the silliness in that but he didn’t want to taint the pristine state of her bedroom. The ridiculous amount of pillows around his body tempted him into a deep slumber but the concern at how late it was getting and her not arriving put a hold on that. JJ was even getting close to calling Kie when the door had finally opened.

The sight of her hitting her head tugged at the strings of his heart. He was appalled with himself. Feeling unworthy of even being here knowing that he had left her to handle the fallout on her own. No amount of persuading from Kie to give John B a couple of days should of been enough to stop him from greeting her at the door with his outstretched arms when she walked out. But in all honesty, it was his own decision to put off the confrontation with John B and reencounter with (Y/N) after such a heavy revelation. He wouldn’t even blame her if she never wanted to see him again.

But when her shoulders slouched as she turned towards the bed and her weary eyes acclimated to the darkness, JJ didn’t see an ounce of malice hidden in them.

“You know breaking and entering is an arrest-able offense?”

She sounded defeated as her arms found sanctuary in the slot of her back between the door. JJ sat up slightly, resting his back against the cushioned headrest. The fanciest thing he’s probably ever laid on. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. JJ had expected to be yelled at, maybe thrown an object or two, then kicked out the window or through the door depending on her generosity. Instead of accusations or bitterness, he was met with a thinly veiled playful threat. And that was a million times better than being on her bad side.

“Call the cops on me then.” It was just as much to test out the waters as it was to avoid the topic at hand. It was so painfully obvious to him that things had gone considerably worse than JJ expected when (Y/N) was choosing to engage in some light-hearted banter before he could even bring it up. Which she pretended to contemplate for a moment from where she stayed put against the door. She knew that what he said wasn’t by any means considered lewd language but just because it was JJ and JJ’s voice saying it while fully displaying his six pack under the gleam of the moonlight, her mind went a little off track.

“I knew I probably couldn’t crash at the Chateau and home just..” he didn’t have to continue it. (Y/N) had bought a full sized First Aid kit to keep on hand for whenever JJ would need to be patched up. It was safely stashed away in the bathroom closet at JB’s so that she could tend to his wounds.

(Y/N) pursed her lips fully aware that she hadn’t actually been planning on kicking him out but just the fact that his only option was going to Luke’s if she did left her with a queasy stomach. They watched one another in silence, JJ hanging on to the anticipation of waiting for her reply. When his fingers ran through his hair in an attempt to ease the stress, (Y/N) finally pushed off from the door.

“The left side of the bed is mine,” her eyes flickered to the empty right side and JJ got the hint, “I will be building a Wall of China that you cannot cross. Lock the bathroom door when you use it. The rest of the house is off limits because my dad might have a heart attack if he sees you and Wheezie’s a snitch or a blackmailer depending on her mood and what day of the week it is,” with a lock of the door, she was making her way towards the front of the bed, “Rafe would just be unpleasant to run into, and this is the most important rule so listen very closely Maybank.. If you turn my fan off, I will make sure you suffer,” bringing attention to the hum of the fan that JJ remembered had indeed been turned on this whole time.

A small amused smile played on JJ’s lips at the list of rules she gave him. He was so engrossed in her every move, still finding her beautiful even in the midst of chaos. It was easier to play this game of pretend, like nothing had happened. As if his presence in her home was somewhat normal. It certainly felt more normal than it should. “Anything else warden?” JJ teased as he scooted over on the bed. (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she came around the corner to lay her phone on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna take a bath so… leave me alone,” she smiled unenthusiastically hooking the phone up to her charger that was awaiting and keeping a cool demeanor. It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore his playful mood, JJ held an unmatched power to distract her from the reality of the situation.

“A bath, huh?”

“Yes a bath.”

“I think you should go to bed like that.”

(Y/N) paused, all too familiar with what it felt like to have his eyes digging into her by now. She knew what he was insinuating, that she should lay down with her cum soaked panties. She didn’t move her gaze away from the nightstand, legs shifting as she felt the wave of heat washing over her. She couldn’t help but curse herself internally, mad at herself for having no control over her reactions.

“I think a bath is what I need.”

“I think sleeping would be much better.”

“I think I’m right.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Air puffed out from her lips as she turned to face him, meeting his eyes like she had expected to. He was so annoying that (Y/N) could smother him in his sleep with one of her pillows. But the mischief in his eyes was beckoning her over. Seeing as he was unwilling to back down, she figured she could wait until he fell asleep to wash off the remainder of tonight. There was no way to get past JJ when he got this stubborn, not a single word would persuade him otherwise and she knew it.

JJ smiled jubilantly when she puffed up pillows in the middle of the bed to separate them instead of continuing the back and forth. He wouldn’t deny he was mostly eager to have her close again, especially seeing as she was actually letting him stay. Every second next to her felt counted, like his minutes were almost up and he had to soak in every detail. He slid down in the bed again while she moved to the dresser, pulling out a plain, worn out t-shirt. His eyes were on her every move, being able to observe her more than he was normally able to.

(Y/N) wanted to grab a pair of pajamas, or at least pajama shorts since JJ would be sleeping over. But if there was one thing she despised, it was wearing anything other than a simple raggedy t-shirt and panties to bed. She could grab a pair of pajama shorts but she knew if he ended up staying for anything longer than a couple days she’d eventually give in to her irritating body heat and remove them. And considering the fact that JJ had already had the privilege of getting a very clear picture of her lower half naked, there was nothing left to hide.

Still though, as she approached the bed, she twirled her fingers in a circle. Just because she’d be laying down in underwear didn’t mean he needed to see her change.

“Really?” JJ asked like it was stupid to even make him turn around. His eyes moved to her chest then, becoming all too aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten the chance to see her properly when he bent her over in the Twinkie.

“Seriously.” She didn’t move an inch until JJ, very begrudgingly might she add, faced away from her. Her hand moved to the back of her neck once she was sure that JJ couldn’t see her, undoing the straps with a quick pull. Once the dress was off her body, (Y/N) slipped on the t-shirt. She hadn’t bothered to ruin a fresh pair of panties when she knew she’d be escaping to bathe as soon as he was snoring at her side.

The bed dipped next to him when (Y/N) laid down, but he couldn’t catch a single glimpse of her past the wall of pillows. JJ sighed, glancing upwards at the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling. They were cute. It felt like he was getting an insight to her private life. One that he wanted to be a part of. The sleep that had fought him earlier was nowhere to be found. Not when he was in (Y/N)’s house. In her perfectly decorated room. Incapable of falling asleep in her comfy bed with a mountain of pillows when she was laying only a couple of feet from him, with a t-shirt on and his cum inside her.

“Would you stop huffing and puffing over there and just sleep already?” (Y/N) would be lying if she said that was the only thing keeping her up. She had been worried that once her head hit the pillows she would be too exhausted to stay up for a bath. Yet now that she was actually here, she couldn’t stop tossing and turning. The air felt thick enough to the point that she’d even be willing to smoke a blunt to relax. But the weed wouldn’t extinguish this tension, it would probably only heighten it.

“My bad. You’ve just got a stupid amount of pillows here and I can’t seem to catch my breath,” he shrugged his shoulders to himself, tilting back to the pesky wall. JJ found warmth under the covers but craved to get it from her body instead. He knew it was a bad idea but the temptation kept unwinding and growing. The opportunity was there, just how it had been earlier. An idea crept into his mind as he heard her shuffle around. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the comment, landing on her side that wasn’t in his direction. “And? They’re comfortable,” she explained, even though she really didn’t have to. She bent her elbow to place it under the pillow trying to find the perfect spot to relax in although it seemed to be impossible to accomplish.

JJ’s arm reached out to play with one of tags on the pillow, running it between his fingers. “It’s suffocating is what it is. And there can’t be anything comfortable about living in the North Pole,” referring to the fan hitting them directly at full blast. JJ didn’t actually mind it, he was just enjoying the teasing that was always awarded with some form of response. His fingers started tugging on the tag, focused on dismantling the first obstacle and allowing her hair to become visible.

“Well-,” (Y/N)’s witty response was halted by the small noise that suspiciously sounded like her barrier was being broken through. Her fingers lazily played with the satin sheets acting like she was unaffected. She knew exactly what he wanted but refused to give in. “I’ll make sure to remind them to tidy up your five star room in prison if you keep complaining.”

JJ chuckled, removing the second pillow with more ease now that the one above it had been tossed behind him. Her backside was in sight now, hair loose and sprawled messily above the white of her bedsheets. The t-shirt had settled into the dip of her hips, making his tongue poke out to wet his bottom lip. There was something different about being here. Something that was charging his body with electricity. “You’d never turn me in.”

“It’s never too late,” (Y/N) breathed out in a hurry as the ruffling behind her increased. Her pulse jumped anticipating JJ’s next move. It was bewildering how much he disrupted her system on a cellular level. He hadn’t even touched her and she was finding it hard to inhale normally knowing that he’d be upon her soon. It should’ve been easy to reach behind her and chastise him for breaking her rules not even 20 minutes in, but it was actually aggravatingly challenging to do so.

“You want me to-,” suddenly, without warning, his defined chest was pressing into her back, evoking a loud hitch in her breath, “grab your phone for you to call?” JJ’s fingers crawled onto the tip of her curve, softly dipping a pointer finger under the lacy fabric. Her skin felt so soft and pliant. Her body quivered under him, only invigorating him. JJ’s lowered voice was much closer to her making her ankles lock together tightly. He was attempting to distract her with his words, very well knowing that she’d never be capable of such a thing.

“JJ you can’t do that,” she completely disregarded the question now, her entire mind faltering from the way his solid chest felt against her back. Despite her protest, she didn’t lift a feather to stop him. Not even her voice was convincing. Her own heart was beating rapidly against her rib cage. They had already done this dance earlier and it had led to a huge fallout. Possibly irreparable damage. Except he was some sort of magician, that made her lose her sanity with the flick of a wand. There was no mistaking the way she got lost in the waves of blue in his eyes on the ride back to the Chateau. She had almost gotten on her knees right then and there with no care on Earth for those around them.

JJ caught on to the affect he had on her like the true devil he was. “Why?” His body flawlessly molded into the crook of her back like he’s always belonged there. Hand taking its time moving around the arch of her hip and downward to knead into the flesh in an achingly cruel way that had her head spinning. A pitiful whine was held back so that it wouldn’t fuel the desire swirling between them. But it was hard to do so when he was consuming her senses. His masculine smell bear-hugging her, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

“Because- Because John-,”

“John B isn’t here (Y/N),” JJ knew that was his best friend, but damn if he heard John B’s name one more time, “he’s already mad. What’s a second time gonna hurt?” His hand proceeded to move upwards, making a straight line up the side of her body and inching her shirt off along with it. She didn’t think her heart could palpate with anymore vigor than it was. (Y/N) was struggling to keep up the façade, JJ had already slithered his way past her pillow barrier and was doing the same to the imaginary one surrounding her. She must’ve fully warped under his spell because something logical coming from JJ couldn’t be right. “Then stop because it’s wrong,” her voice was higher pitched, waiting for the arrival of JJ’s unforgiving fingers on her breasts.

But JJ was villainous. Intent on unraveling her. He only managed to get one of her breasts to pop out, the other half of her chest still covered while his hand lifted up slightly so only the pad of his finger was tracing the outline of her side boob. There was a familiar neediness spreading inside that plagued her. She went from wanting to off him to reeling from his teasing. He refused to give in to her because she was obviously yearning for him in a similar fashion. And he’d make her admit it. Make her beg for it as many times as he pleased. “That’s not how this game works Princess,” he tsked into the space between her neck and her ear, fanning his hot breath down her heaving cleavage.

His tone was disapproving, like she should know better than that now. “The only way I’m stopping (Y/N), is if you tell me to. Tell me it would’ve made no difference which one of us found you first. Tell me right now you aren’t soaking between your legs.” JJ needed to hear it almost as much as he needed oxygen to survive. If she didn’t want him to abandon whatever was erupting between them, she needed to say it. If she didn’t want him in the same way he desperately needed, he’d get dressed, leave, and stay far away from her and John B. But he doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle that form of banishment from her life.

Luckily for him, her resolve weakened with the swipe of his tongue against her earlobe and the hidden fear making its way into his voice. She pushed the side of her face into the fluffiness of her pillow in a last ditch effort to remain passive while her body went headfirst into the sinful pleasure, pressing her bottom into his hardening length. Her breathing stuttered hearing the deep groan it illicited from him. It was instant relief for the both of them, her pussy clenching at the feel of his erection digging into her. JJ couldn’t explain how hot it was to see her fight her own bodily desire for him. “I can’t tell you that,” she barely got out. The sensual touches and intentional build up had her thighs sliding together. Breathing around him was something her body forgot how to do.

JJ’s forehead fell onto her shoulder, matching her heavy breaths now that she was confirming what he so badly wanted to hear. He grasped her exposed tit, tugging until her back was arching along with it. Incapable of refraining himself with her submitting to him. “JJ,” she gasped out feeling a pull on the back of her shirt where it was stuck under her side. “Tell me what you need then,” he commanded in the very same tone from earlier that made her vision hazy and brain foggy.

“I need you J,” her body relinquished control with a small whine, obeying his orders by lifting up slightly from the bed to remove the t-shirt. She moved to face him, wanting nothing more than to run her fingers over the surface of his toned physique, but JJ used the grip on her breast to return her to her previous position. They weren’t in a rush this time. There was no boyfriend expecting her to return. No one to answer to in the dead of night. JJ had the advantage of time and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

His crotch rutting into her once in tandem with the flick of his finger over her nipple caused her mouth to drop open and a shudder to overtake her. “That’s how much I need you (Y/N),” he moaned, making her keen while his teeth grazed her shoulder blade. Every bit of her was intoxicating, like an addicting drug he was handing over his willpower to. The temptation was too much to handle. His fingers finally skimmed to the top of her panties, sliding under the thin material with ease and urgency. (Y/N) tilted her knee upwards so that he had more space at his disposal, fully letting herself succumb to JJ.

The second his hand connected with her slick mound her long eyelashes fluttered, a deep groan paving its way out. His index and middle finger slid around her clit, putting pressure on it by pressing into the sides. His semen mixing with her arousal allowed JJ to glide his fingers up and down with ease. “Oh f-fuck,” she sputtered out arm hastily wrapping around his. JJ was more vocal this time, moaning again from the feel of her sodden pussy. It urged him to grind up against her again finding relief in the contour of her body.

JJ’s free arm snuck it’s way under her neck, curving enough to be able to reach her hardened nipple. He twisted and squeezed relentlessly until he heard her cry out from the stimulation. His lips laid open mouthed kisses around her shoulders, sucking slightly with every pause. JJ didn’t falter though, he pulled on her nipple while adding extra pressure to her clit as he continued to stroke his fingers through her velvety folds. Her strangled moans were making his hard on throb from how wrecked she already sounded. (Y/N) couldn’t put together a single thought in her head, only feel the pleasure exploding inside her like fireworks.

“Fuck you feel so good, dripping again for me. Still leaking my cum,” JJ could no longer hold back as he sunk his teeth into the same spot of her upper body that he had been abusing, biting down until there was a metallic flavor soothing his tastebuds. His tongue licked up the wound, a carnal instinct forcing him to do something he never had even imagined would turn him on. However, the action sent him onto cloud nine, a high like no other. A groan vibrating against the broken skin.

Never had somebody bit her before and yet there was an embarrassing amount of slickness added to the mess between her legs. Her mouth gaped, opening with a high pitched, “Ah”. His muscles flexed under her grip as his fingers moved with more urgency feeling the result of what his action did to her. He couldn’t explain the feeling bursting inside his chest at the fact that she glowed under his barbaric behavior. (Y/N)’s head tilted to the side where JJ met her cheek with his nose. Face contorted from the waves of pain jolting through her that were mixing in with the ones of pleasure crashing into her mercilessly.

Her legs intertwined with his, tightening around his calves in order to receive some sort of grounding through the ferocity of his actions. “You like that? Like when I use my fingers to make you feel good?” JJ purred through hooded blue eyes watching her bottom lip tremble from the pleasure. He was vicious in his assaults, having to stop her thighs from shutting with a knee into the crease of her ass. As much as he wanted to shove his fingers into her hungry cunt, he wanted to make her fall apart by just playing with the sensitive nub. “Yes, love it J, I-,” her mouth paused while open, hips jutting out as JJ quickened his pace. She wanted to tell him she wouldn’t last long but he wasn’t letting her breathe.

“Is this what you were imagining in the van? My fingers inside of you, my tongue licking every inch of your pussy?” JJ murmured making her back straighten out and hearing her wheeze when he switched to a circular motion and back. Her previous orgasms had already been so intense that she was at risk of slipping away in the ecstasy. Her toes curled around the edge of the bedsheet panting into the air. (Y/N) was fully immersed in the vehement drag of his fingers and the hot puffs of air that electrified her skin. “Stay here f’me,” it was JJ’s dominating tone mixing with one of uneasiness that lulled her out of the fog, “that’s it pretty girl. Answer my question.”

He coerced a response out of her before she could drift away from him. JJ’s fingers switching to figure eight motions as she arched her back with a particularly loud yelp of his name then returning to the previous movement before she had time to adjust. Watching her so worked up had his cock aching to find its way back into her. His precum was forming a new stain in his boxers from the intensity of their hushed words and the symphony of her fluctuating breaths and resounding moans. He wanted to sheathe himself with her cunt until she become too stupid to speak almost as much as he enjoyed watching her surrender her satisfaction to him. “All I.. All I could think about was you.”

“Fuck,” JJ cracked, steadily building up the momentum so that he was rubbing his clothed dick against her. “Bet you would’ve let me rail you in front of them- let me clean your soaked pussy and then fuck your throat dry,” he grunted finding the release he was desperate for as he slid in the slit of her ass. The sensation flooded every fiber of her being, words bringing out her kinks as confirmed by the tightening of her pussy around him. “Yes,” she admitted with watering eyes. JJ’s control was slipping, acting like a teenage boy with raging hormones as he dry humped her desperately spurred on by her confession. She was open just the perfect amount for his hard tip to probe against her tight back entrance. The fabric of the boxers between them being the only thing stopping him. Her eyes were the only thing that moved to find his darkened ones in a wary haste. By the quick lock of their gaze, her wide eyes told JJ those were uncharted waters. “I’m gonna destroy your ass next.”

All it took was the exquisite combination of an adjustment of his finger and a brush of his nose against her cheek. The lively movements of his rutting alongside the lewd promise of exploring more of her body. Another meaningful jab at her bundle of nerves and she was seeing white hot fury littered with black specks behind her eyes. “Holy fuck JJ,” she panted with a whine, losing any thought process in the climax that made her nerve endings burst. The unexpected strength she had to close her legs forced JJ’s knee from its place but his fingers didn’t lose the relentless pace. She rode out her high with sharp breathing, crying his name out through the ripples of her orgasm. Her entire body squirming during his softening pace to ease her back.

He issued an uncanny amount of praises into her ear that she was only able to hear the end of. Gulping air in chunks to feed her lungs. JJ was absolutely gone for her, his insides doing cartwheels at the sound of his name during her apex. The way her face twisted, body turning into a writhing mess, it was all thanks to his doing. (Y/N) didn’t notice him all-consumed by her, absorbing every ounce of her undoing. Her hand that wasn’t wrapped in his arm, reached over to grip his hair that had sweaty ends matted to his forehead. “Doing so. fucking. well. f’me, such a good girl,” he praised with repeated eskimo kisses to her cheek. The neglected emotions seeping out through the affectionate action were far too much to handle in the daze. She wanted to scream from the overpowering feeling.

JJ slowed his movements to give her a moment to calm down. His lips took advantage of her tilted head to curve around her jawline and press gentle kisses that made seemingly soft impressions on her skin. He had initially intended on making this an entire night thing, but it has been almost an entire night. His greediness couldn’t ignore that she almost rode off into a space he couldn’t reach her at. And that his cock was in dire risk of ceasing to exist.

When her eyes became more focused and face met his, their heads tilted to clash together. Any instructions JJ had for her became mute as she read his mind and flipped her body over without breaking the kiss. A lip-numbing, teeth clashing with need, tongue fighting kiss that took away any breath she had managed to catch. It recharged her drained energy to full power.

His hand moved to brutally squeeze at her other boob. Their bodies pushing one another back with every frenzied attempt to be closer. His head would force her to bend her neck backwards as he lifted up into her before she was leaning forward and putting him in the same position. Retreating only to catch a second of air before going back to the same. It was in the middle of the disorder that JJ was able to dislodge his boxers from his body. (Y/N) maneuvered out of the last piece of clothing that was now being unjustly held accountable for the fact that she just couldn’t get close enough. He flipped her onto her back, bleeding into the slot between her legs that he would swear was made for him.

JJ propped up onto his elbows to break the kiss, lungs in need of taking in air. She moved to chase him with her lips but he rose up higher making her head plop back down. (Y/N) let out a disgruntled noise, about to break out into hives if he didn’t get inside her. Her body was sore, close to surpassing her limit but she wanted to feel full of him. Wanted to him to use her to reach levels of pleasure that he hadn’t experienced yet. But his eyes did a soft lulling once over of her naked body, halting her pleas. Months of playful prodding at the other, lingering glances, and shyly stealing innocent touches at random times had all progressed to this day. To the moment that he could take in all of her, in every way possible.

Then he repeated it. Analyzing. Memorizing. Mulling over every detail that might seem insignificant to someone else but it was everything to him.

Now that he was above her, the only thing he was capable of doing was concentrate on every detail of her body. The curvature of her perky boobs, the dampness pooling at her core, the glossy look in her eyes. His hand moved flat down her stomach, leaving a trail of tingles behind. The way she let her body be conquered by his touch left him speechless. After spending what felt like a lifetime living in the shadow of her presence, his chest was close to caving in under the reciprocation of his emotions. “You’re gorgeous,” he spoke in disbelief that someone like her would ever let someone like him taint her innocence, but she was anything except that. (Y/N) was his sweet, filthy girl. His thumb grazed against her pelvic bone before spreading her legs onto the surface of the bed to look further down. He caught sight of her pluckered nub poking past her folds, entire vagina slippery with the arousal and cum that was everywhere from the stained sheets to her inner thighs. JJ had to physically hold back a guttural noise stopping himself before he leaned down and stuffed his entire face into her.

She gnawed on her reddened bottom lip, overwhelmed with the admiration and desire in his eyes. “J,” she pleaded softly, close to liquefying under the fortitude of his stare. It was only JJ that had her mewling, entrapping her in a bubble of fantasies and a four letter word dangerously close to spilling from her lips with just a glance. The intensity of the raw emotion was close to suffocating her. (Y/N) couldn’t take it any longer, lifting her bottom from the bed to grab his attention attempting to sway him back to the task at hand. The pressing of his knuckles on her bruised inner thigh let her know it worked. His eyes seemed to refocus on her glistening center. JJ’s hand wrapped around the hilt of his length, pumping his length over her pelvic bone. “Look at that baby- that’s how deep I’m gonna be,” he taunted, the end of solid member close to her belly button. Before she had time to react, he was swiping up her vagina to collect his cum and her juices on his head before smearing it with a downward swipe and strangled, “fuck.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s shaky voice spoke over his, an iron grip forming on the bed sheets at her sides. Her back arched as a breathless moan escaped her when he didn’t stop. Every swipe just barely teased her with the tip sliding past her folds, giving her a minuscule taste only to move away. Her hips moved to meet his but he didn’t show mercy. “So fucking messy. Look so pretty when you’re so dirty,” the corner of his lip tugged up, relishing in her undoing. Inflicting as much torture as he had felt from not being able to just grab her when he wanted to. The sloshing sound was so fowl, so lewd and vicious that it was the only thing they could hear. “Please JJ, need your cock. Need it, I need it so bad, please-.”

“Do you? Never knew you were such a cockslut (Y/N),” he cut her off, one particular swipe against her bundle of nerves tightened the muscles in her belly. The unappeasable JJ was back, the one that knew what spots to hit inside of her. Even though he was close to cracking as evident by the way his pace lapsed, he still kept himself in check to drive her mad. And it worked. It sent her into a rant of incomprehensible pleas. (Y/N) was teary-eyed, turning into a puddle under his attack. JJ’s dirtiness had her leaking, mind fuzzy in an unexplainable way. She wanted nothing more than to please him again. (Y/N) doesn’t think she’s ever felt like this before. Like she would cry and beg and offer anything she could to get JJ��s cock inside of her.

“So fucking greedy for more even though I fucked you already. Guess I didn’t do a good enough job, huh? Should I just stop then?” JJ taunted her in a coo that made her shake her head frantically. If he hadn’t already been rock hard, the desperation in her eyes would’ve done the job in a matter of seconds. “Yes- wait… no- JJ,” (Y/N) whined unable to put the words together. She wanted to say he was crazy. That of course he’d done a fucking phenomenal job. That she feels floaty and would wail if he stopped right now. There was just no way she could use so many words at once. That stupid smirk on his face proved he was just trying to be a complete menace right now. “Just a dumb Princess for me now,” he sounded like he’d won a prize, like he was awarded some major accomplishment.

JJ laid his body over hers like a blanket, shielding every part of it and effortlessly snuffing out her panic. His composure was rapidly deteriorating, matching her need for their bodies to fuse together. His tip slipped between her puffy folds, hearing her stutter. “There?” JJ’s hot breath tingled her lips at the new proximity. (Y/N) nodded, hands suddenly coming to life from next to her to feel over his honey tinted pecks. “There,” that was definitely a word she could formulate as he paused to capture her eyes. The rest of the world stilled around them.

JJ buried himself past her resistance, stretching her open until the front of his thighs connected with the inside of hers and ripped a groan out of himself. He was convinced the ethereal feeling of her walls confining him was the same one people felt upon arriving to heaven. Before he could even move, her ankles met above his butt. She was a mess of pleas and whimpers, only trying to get JJ deeper into her as if his head wasn’t already pushing against her cervix and turning her into mush. He moaned against her lips, both touching but wide open against the other from the intensity. She was so wet and easy to slide slip into without prep. Still tight and constricting around him even after their encounter. No matter how hard it was to do, JJ’s blue swirls prompted her to keep her eyes open. He refused to look away as his hips pulled away gradually only to thrust forward again. And then again.

“Fuck,” JJ grunted, this time setting a slower yet unimaginably rough pace. He rocked into her with every ounce of strength he had left. Her fingernails found refuge in the indent between his collarbone and shoulder, digging in so harshly there’d be crescent moon impressions left over. While his found refuge in the roots of her hair, tangling into the long wavy strands. JJ used that grip to strengthen his thrusts. He could see it in her fragile features, the cloudiness in her eyes, and the airy moans that left her. She was almost gone and he’d barely even gotten started with her. “Guess what (Y/N)? You’re just taking it at this point, letting me do whatever the hell I want and fuck my cum back into your cunt like such a good little whore.”

(Y/N) keened at his vulgarity, soaking it in, the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder came to life. Roaming every inch of his body from the defined lines of his torso to the tensed muscles on his shoulders. She hadn’t gotten the chance to do that properly, to get drunk on the smooth skin that she’d been aching to wander for months. He was worth painting in this moment, sweat beading on his skin, building at the tip of his nose, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, perfectly shaped lips slightly parted, darkened blue eyes refusing to look anywhere but her. She could’ve came just from the sight.

He was becoming more and more vocal at her unabashed discovery of his body and the new emotion swirling in her eyes, moaning deeply against her lips. This wasn’t the same as their raunchy quickie in the Twinkie, here he could dig into her until his head was visible at her stomach and repeat the motion for hours. Pull out when they got close and then start right back up as soon as they came down if he pleased. It would be such a fat lie to say that he wasn’t getting off on her wandering touch and dreamy look, the way it seemed like she’d been longing to have him near. JJ adjusted the tiniest bit to increase the torturously deep thrusting while still maintaining a calculated speed that had her seeing stars. “Yes, yes,” (Y/N) whimpered out trembling as her fingers paused at his hips to squeeze. Her hypersensitive center was clamping down on his throbbing dick welcoming the new depth.

JJ was jabbing at her cervix ruthlessly, sliding against her velvet walls, reaching crevices she hadn’t known existed. Hitting the spot inside of her that sent her heels digging into the bed and toes curling. And like the criminal he was, JJ’s hand found the crook of her left knee forcing her leg up to reach even deeper. His balls constricted, all too close to finishing. “That’s it, yeah- yes- right there,” JJ was deaf to everything except the obscene sloshing sounds coming from between them and the impure filth intertwining with their muffled words. It was the only thing that could be heard from her room.

“JJ I-,” her high pitched whine fell off, not able to recall what she had intended to say. The heat in her core was seconds away from snapping like a rubber band. He was clouding every inch of her mind and every corner of her body. (Y/N)’s senses were experiencing a dramatic overload that left her repeating one single name in her mind. JJ. “I know- I know pretty girl,” he soothed patronizingly, walls tightening around him at the use of a pet name. He couldn’t help the grunt and snap of his hips upwards. “You’re so close (Y/N). Squeezing- fuck- my cock. Want me to fill your pretty little pussy again?”

Her hands shot out to grab at his muscular back, clawing lines down the smooth, fresh skin that had him hissing. JJ lost it, the sensually deep pace he had maintained turning into sloppier thrusts as she marked him this time. His shark necklace knocked into her chin with every upwards slam into her. The sight of it dangling down his neck was a turn on by itself. “Answer me,” JJ’s tone was dominant, the hand in her hair yanked at it as he made her glazed over eyes focus on him and not the necklace. His face was almost red, eyes dark and demanding as his hair tickled her forehead. “You need my cock and cum Princess, but do you want it?” JJ slammed into her, emphasizing every choice word, “You want me? I’ll make you cum right now, if you tell me who you want (Y/N).” JJ didn’t have (or want) to say his name since they both knew who he was referring to. Who the two choices were. His entire mind, body, and soul ached to know the answer and the devil on his shoulder used this moment to get it.

(Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. The endorphins washing over her through his cruelly delicious attack made it hard to string a sentence. But the response was all too easy. He owned her. Even if karma was righteous and she never got the chance to give her whole self to him sexually and emotionally, JJ still held claim to her heart and pleasure no matter how much he doubted it. “Yo-,” she didn’t have to finish it. JJ’s arms wrapped under her shoulders, holding his body against hers until they could feel their hearts pounding inside. He jerked his hips into her, surpassing the rhythm he had set for himself. He was barely pulling out at this point, only an inch or two escaping before he was plunging back into her. That was all it took for both of them to fall apart.

His pelvic bone pressured her clit in just the right way for her eyes to roll to the back of her head. (Y/N)’s jaw went limp, hands finding JJ’s blonde locks and clinging for dear life as every single muscle in her body clenched. Her fifth orgasm of the night hit her like a car crashing into a brick wall at two hundred miles per hour, lifting her into a blissed out state with the wracking waves of pleasure. She shook in his grasp, reaching a high like no other as everything went silent around her. A broken high pitched noise and his loud moan vibrating against her is the last thing she heard.

JJ felt his cock squeezed by her spasming pussy, sending him over his own edge a second later. His mind fully warped around the sensation, eyes squeezing shut. “Holy.. fuck,” he exclaimed in a raspy voice while bulldozing into her in sync with his knee moving upwards and holding her lifted leg against the bed harshly. Their peaks magnified by the rawness of their feelings that had boiled over. Thick spurts of JJ’s cum coating her insides as he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. Bright dots littered his vision from the vigorous orgasm that claimed every part of him from the bottoms of his feet to the vein protruding in his neck.

Neither one of them even realized when JJ’s thrusts became lazier, losing energy as he came down. His pants coming out short and heavy onto her skin. The arms that had wrapped around her weakened their hold from the exhaustion setting in. He stilled at some point, breathing in the sweat of their sins and the scent of her floral perfume that lingered on the sheets around them consuming JJ’s senses. Laying with her in his arms still felt like a fever dream. If not for the mess they had made, JJ would’ve let them fall asleep right there. Kept himself snug and warm with her cunt. But he sluggishly lifted himself up instead having a promise to keep, his eyes finding their way to her face.

She was looking straight through everything in her line of sight like she was in a dreamlike state. That’s when he noticed how relaxed her body was beneath him, the shallow breathing. She’d been too quiet and hadn’t even lifted a finger to touch him. “Hey (Y/N)?” JJ murmured bringing his hand up to cup her cheek gently, caressing it with his thumb. He scanned over her face in confusion. It took a moment to realize it only because he couldn’t really believe it. More so doubting his capabilities. But seeing how far away she looked, JJ had to know he had fucked her into subspace. “(Y/N)?” JJ repeated a little louder realizing if he had, he certainly didn’t know how to pull her out of it. Panic began to settle in as his other hand went to her hair again, stroking through it with care and tenderness. “Hey Princess come back for me? It’s JJ,” the thought of having to call the one person who might know made him want to bury his fist in the closest wall.

She blinked once.

The hands offering solace and comfort were the first things she felt.

Then she blinked twice.

His honey-like voice urging her to return to him right before the glowing stars stuck to her ceiling began to look brighter.

Then finally her unfocused eyes were looking back at him. The fingers tangling through strands of her hair with a sense of uneasiness and his gentle voice asking for her was the only thing that managed to reach her. (Y/N) had never felt like that before, like she was transcending elsewhere. An out of body experience that she’d be unable to describe if asked. “JJ?” she mumbled, breathing a little heavier now. “What happened?” she questioned as he looked at her with sudden bewilderment which made her a little nervous. “You don’t know what happened? You’ve never reached subspace before?” She could hear it in his voice. The surprise that she’d done it with him and the boost of ego that came with not having done it with John B. The blush on her cheeks spread quickly, eyes closing as she buckled under his intense stare. (Y/N) was still basking in the glow from their shared orgasm which made it harder to think but she knew the answer.

She truthfully never had. There was times with John B she thought she might, but she’d been laced with uncertainty. (Y/N) would slow them down before her mind could wander off. It was always what she considered to be an irrational fear since John B would realistically never let something happen to her, but with JJ she had willingly let it happen. No, subconsciously, let it happen. Her body hadn’t fought it at all. “I’ve- no. I’ve never done that,” she admitted in a whisper looking anywhere but him. But his fingers found her chin, tilting her head back to him so their eyes could meet. The lust was replaced with something that (Y/N) had never seen in them before. Something she would call love if it didn’t sound absolutely insane. JJ Maybank in love with her. “S’not a big deal,” she tried to act like it wasn’t but it certainly felt like it.

JJ nodded carefully, acting with caution as she retreated back into her thoughts. He knew her too well by now. When things scared (Y/N), she’d pull away from them. She’d let her overthinking do the work before risking herself getting hurt. He didn’t want to push her back into her shell now. Not now that he had gotten a taste of her. That he had managed to open her up more than. Usually it was him running from any form of commitment, yet here he was practically salivating for it. “Yeah,” he sounded unconvinced but (Y/N) was glad he didn’t dwell on it. He winced as she shifted, his softening member grazing against her walls making her eyes flutter and plump lips part. “Tired?” JJ’s softness wasn’t easy to ignore considering she was used to his hard exterior hiding his emotions. They hadn’t actually gotten to this part earlier. JJ had to rush back before John B suspected anything while she had given herself the mercy of a couple of minutes to gather herself.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed out letting her eyes close softly, still feeling the aftershocks of her intense orgasm and hopelessly attempting to run away from the thoughts in her mind. JJ did know her too well. Her eyes squeezed tighter as she felt JJ pull out, another round of their juices sneaking down between her crack and onto the bed. She might have to change the whole mattress honestly. JJ had to bite back an audible noise that wanted to spill out from the sight of it. His shiny, slick dick twitched below him. After cumming twice, he doesn’t understand how she holds enough power over him to illicit a response like this. JJ was capable of fucking her again if given the opportunity. But her sleepy eyes gave her away. They were both exhausted.

He moved farther away, only to pick her up bridal style from where she lay earning a low gasp. “What’re you doing?” (Y/N) mumbled, lacking the strength to fight him off at this present time. Her arms wound around his neck quickly in fear of diving headfirst into her oak wood floor but she had a feeling he wouldn’t let that happen. The muscles in his arms flexed as he walked her into the bathroom, only confusing her more. “I owe you a bath,” JJ stated like it was obvious when he saw her bewildered expression, leaning down to sit her onto the bathtub gently. Her heart felt tight in her chest having completely forgotten about her bath. All in all, it would’ve been pointless had she taken it earlier with JJ always getting his way.

She watched as he leaned down to switch the warm water on, closing the drain when it was at a nice temperature. The water crept through her toes first before touching the underside of her thigh. (Y/N) sighed at the way it soothed her aching skin and throbbing mound. He went to push the lid down on the toilet, eyeing it and lifting an eyebrow when it lowered gently. Kooks, he thought instantly. JJ turned to face her and take a seat. “You’re not getting in?” The question startled him, like that’s not what he’d been planning on doing whatsoever. “Uhm- I can… Figured I’d just give you one so you could get to bed and I’ll go after,” there he went again, tugging on emotions that she’d spent months hiding under a rug. She couldn’t get it through her head, why JJ was evoking a reaction from her that she didn’t know existed, one that didn’t compare to John B. If she thought she had loved JB then what was this? Fooling herself into believing that words during sex were simply just that was becoming impossible.

“I mean- s’a bit silly? I’m already in here.. You need sleep too. Might as well get in,” she tilted her head slightly, glancing at him with such fondness that could take his breath away. JJ swallowed as he stood up and slid inside behind her, finding the same relief in his joints that she had. She scooted backwards until their bodies were touching, laying back onto his solid chest with closed eyes. His body relaxed as she decided what boundaries they could cross outside of sex. They let the running water fill the comfortable silence as they nestled into each other. A conversation about where this was leading was probably in order, but it was easier to remain ignorant. To stay quiet in hopes of stretching out the moment in case it didn’t last.

JJ’s fingers danced on the edge of her thigh until they gradually spread for him. He traced around the bruise he’d left her close to apologizing for the purple emerging but also finding pride in being the one that left it on her. It dawned on him that John B could’ve seen it earlier if he had found out the way JJ had intended him to. His eyes peered over her features curiously, wondering if she had actually listened to his sex induced demand. He felt guilty now that it was John B’s girlfriend he had done that to. (Y/N) who wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it had messed with her own. His long-time best friend who he had betrayed in a way he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. But his feelings for her made him act out in the moment instead of apologize. Made him want to rub it in JB’s face that her pleasure belonged to him. He let out a soft sigh, wanting to ask but lacking the courage. Her body was rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing, being covered by the water as it continued to rise. The bathroom fell quiet again as she peeked her eyes open to extend her foot and turn the handle off.

Once she did, her eyes fell on the place JJ’s fingers were making her skin shiver. With his other hand, he reached for her expensive looking body wash on the edge of the tub and the washcloth dangling close to their heads. She watched inquisitively as he dipped the rag in water squeezing the excess away and poured an ungracious amount of soap which made her giggle. He finally cracked a smile at that, leaving the bottle open as he set it back down. If JJ could get her to make that noise every day, it might just all be worth it in the end.

He began to lather her upper body first, feeling her jump slightly against him when his fingers grazed over her abused nipples. It felt nice though, domestic even. Him washing off the remnants of their day from her body. If only it was as easy to erase the memories. “I have to talk to him tomorrow,” she was the first to interrupt the silence making his smile falter and disappear like it’d never been there in the first place. He didn’t respond for a minute, just continuing to glide the washcloth over her thigh then down. He wiped meticulously between her legs knowing she was overly sensitive there now which was confirmed by the way her thighs went to shut but he stopped them.

“‘Bout what?” he didn’t mean it to be such a broad question but the snort she responded with made him aware of it. JJ knew what she wanted to discuss, he just didn’t know how to ask whether it’ll end with them breaking up officially or attempting to reconcile. (Y/N) wanted to pretend like he was being oblivious on purpose and not like she was reading into what was really going on. (Y/N)’s mind was muddled by the delicate way he was cleaning her off and the zero control she showed around him. Truthfully, she’d been inwardly swaying between the two boys for too long now.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly, watching his hand move down her tilted leg. The air felt heavy with the words spoken during intimacy. After being so forthcoming about who she’d choose, JJ still had an unwarranted fear that she would retract. Blame everything on the fact that she was lost chasing her high. He’d obviously excelled in that department, granting her with several orgasms but who she needed emotionally was still poking at him. It was an unintentionally loaded question that left her feeling anxious inside. “Don’t know yet.”

JJ didn’t speak again after that, he simply kept up his goal of bathing her. The washcloth smoothed over the bite on her shoulder making her whimper and throb at the same time. JJ was astonished with himself, finding it hard to believe he’d been capable of doing actual damage. But (Y/N)’s breathing was a tiny bit heavier, eyes opened halfway as she attempted to conceal how she felt about it. He had picked up on enough of her cues to know she had thrived off of it, during sex and now. JJ inhaled through his nose, free hand moving to tug at his cock slightly that had twitched. He wanted to do more, bite her thighs until his teeth tore through the flesh and tinted her tan with crimson red. Then soothe the skin with his tongue before repeating the act on her other thigh. Now that he had her, his possessiveness had gone into hyperdrive. Satiated only by the idea of his bite mark on her delicate skin.

Once she was covered in suds and the passion fruit smell filled his senses, he used the same washcloth on himself trying to distract and recollect himself before his animalistic kink was mentioned. (Y/N) had lifted up slightly allowing him to clean his front section too lost in her own mind to notice his revelation. She wanted to be the one to wash him, travel his body in the same way but by the time she got done overthinking, he seemed about done. She tugged on her bottom lip softly, opening the drain again to let out the dirty water. JJ sat up behind her and poured shampoo onto his hand before slipping his fingers through her wet hair unexpectedly. His fingers scratched softly at the scalp hearing a content hum from the girl in front of him. This was out of the norm for him, putting so much effort into aftercare. Girls would leave his room before he put any thought into them needing even a shower or rest. He was a dick and a player. He was well aware of that. JJ was also well aware that he wasn’t a dick and a player when it came to her.

He repeated the steps with the conditioner after washing her hair out with the clean water she was filling the bathtub up with. Before JJ could do it for himself, (Y/N) was turning around in between his legs and taking the shampoo from his grasp. She wouldn’t let the chance slip through her fingers. “You’ll smell like me,” she warned with a teasing smile softening the worry etched in their faces. JJ just stared at her. The lines on her forehead, the curve of her button nose, the undeserving kindness she showed him. Then he shrugged in the same manner she had. “Good,” he replied without a second thought to it making her blush reappear on her cheeks and down her neck.

(Y/N)’s soft hands ran shampoo through the blonde forcing his eyes to shut and an embarrassing moan to escape. But she giggled again. An onslaught of butterflies in his abdomen making him feel queasy. How could he really feel bad for his actions when everything inside of him turned into mush around her. “Never had someone wash your hair before?” It was supposed to be a joke but JJ gave her a small nod as he let his body relax from her touch. “Guess it’s a night of firsts,” he murmured reminding her that he’d been the first to drop her. She let out a shaky breath as he sunk into the water to wash off the shampoo.

He lifted out from the water, barely having a chance to rub the water out of his eyes before soft lips were finding his. There was no delay as he kissed her back, arms wrapping around her loosely to pull her closer. He straightened out his legs so that she could slide onto his lap with ease. Her fingers tangled in his hair that now looked a little darker from the water. They tugged tentatively, willing him to open his mouth for her. Her chest pressed against his just a little tighter as they deepened the kiss. He relinquished control under her, letting her continue to guide the pace they were moving at. Her tongue slid against his, tasting him.

The kiss grew lazy, mouths moving against one another for the sole purpose of being able to in the private confines of her bathroom. His hands found the curves of her waist, sliding over them to her back and then down to grab handfuls of her ass. He lifted her closer to him centers aligning as she gasped into the kiss. She moved slightly but one of JJ’s hands found sanctuary wound around her throat. He pulled (Y/N) back to him, lips melting into a more meticulous kiss. He licked between her lips once, then twice with a particularly jarring squeeze to her ass cheek. She complied more willing than she gave away. JJ’s tongue circled hers, groaning as she began to pull away. (Y/N) kept their forehead and noses connected. “J?” she mumbled resting her palms on his torso and digging her fingers in softly.

“Yeah?” he breathed out reaching forward slightly in attempt to catch her lips again but she didn’t let him. “Conditioner?” she asked which made him chuckle and shake his head slightly without pulling away. JJ kept his hands in place and used them to stand up with her, water pouring down from both their bodies while she scrambled to find a grip on his shoulders. “You think my dad buys shampoo and conditioner? Think I’m good with shampoo,” he didn’t mean it like that, but the pang of guilt and sadness hit her nonetheless. JJ didn’t even bother to empty out the bath water just to check that no more was falling in, ignoring her chirps of protest once he led them out of the bathroom.

“JJ- my bed. I swear-.”

“Swear what?”

He hovered her above the clean side of the mattress, a mischievous smirk finding its way. “I-I..,” she couldn’t come up with a rebuttal fast enough before he was dropping onto the bed with her and laying them down. (Y/N) wanted to be mad but a laugh is what came out instead as he tugged her close against him, facing one another. “Too slow,” he deemed letting the pillows pave a way to the drowsiness kicking in. He didn’t expect it to happen so quickly but he really was worn out. JJ’s blue eyes began to flutter in front of her and she laid her hand on his cheek gently. All it took was that for them to close completely.

(Y/N) took in this freshly washed version of JJ getting comfy in her bed. She’d be in so much trouble if her dad caught them. He was used to John B. Accepting of his daughter dating a Pogue because they’d become well aquatinted together while working on The Druthers. But JJ Maybank? Son of the town drunk who was notorious for stealing and picking fights with anyone in his life including JJ? He’d have a heart attack from his hatred toward Luke and JJ, who he had already had a couple of run ins with at the Island Club. Although, no matter how much trouble she could get into, he still looked unbearably cute releasing soft puffs of air her way.

“Look whose tired now,” she teased as he fought to keep himself awake through the rubbing of her thumb and the welcoming satin feel of the pillowcase. JJ mumbled incoherently switching between the comfort her hand offered and the darkness looming. He slipped further into the vulnerable limbo of sleep when he spoke next. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).”

The words hung in the air as he finally drifted off, snores interrupting the thudding off her heart in her throat. It was bittersweet to hear him utter the words her body craved from him. What she felt for John B didn’t come close to this. She would be in denial if she didn’t face it. (Y/N) didn’t see any plausible way to make this work though, even if she wanted it to. John B and JJ were as thick as thieves. Best friends for life. She had already come between that and caused enough damage. If she chose one of them now, their friendships would never be the same. Between any of them, not just the three that were now stuck in a love triangle.

With the weight of the world on her shoulders and the peace offered by the warmth he radiated, she let herself be taken over by the same darkness. After a long, perplexing day, both of them were drained mentally and physically. Any apprehension she felt could wait till tomorrow. Not even her overthinking could keep her up tonight. And if JJ fell asleep remembering that he hadn’t mentioned John B’s name again the whole night, well. He kept it to himself.

*****

“(Y/N)?” she heard faintly making her snuggle further into the damp sheets and comforters that were colder now without the presence of body heat at her side.

“Five more minutes,” she urged in the haze not wanting to awaken just yet but the voice was persistent and annoying on the other side of her door. Her doorknob rattled as the intruder attempted to open it which is what made her stir finally. “Five more- (Y/N) get up,” Rafe’s frustrated voice rang from the outside of her bedroom which made her eyes peek at last. Instead of being met with an empty room though, JJ was standing in front of her bathroom with wide eyes, her toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and low-hanging boxers. “Dad said you were supposed to come to the country club with us. Hurry up,” Rafe rushed her assuming she’d been in the process of getting ready when she had completely forgotten.

(Y/N) had promised she’d go to dinner with them Saturday afternoon since she’d been spending so much time with John B and her friends on The Cut. She had never slept into the afternoon though. With a quick flicker of her eyes to the clock that read 4:56 P.M. and back to a half naked JJ, memories of yesterday flooded her. Any tiredness that remained was long gone now as she shot up from the bed, holding the comforter to her naked chest. “Uhm- yeah,” (Y/N)’s called out more firmly now that she was fully awake. “Tell dad I’m not feeling well- I’ll go to dinner tomorrow.” There was a pause on the other side of the door as JJ took the toothbrush out of his mouth.

“Is John B in there with you?” Rafe accused which made JJ’s fingers twitch with jealousy. He had to refrain himself from calling out to him and making it clear that it was him and not John B who had the privilege of waking up at her side this morning. “God Rafe no,” (Y/N) claimed in exasperation, irritated with the way this conversation with going. She shouldn’t feel guilty about the flash of anger in JJ’s blue eyes but she did. “I was just out late at The Boneyard. Got a massive hangover. Tell him I’m sick,” (Y/N) lied but it was the only thing that she knew would convince him. They had seen each other in passing last night so there was no reason Rafe wouldn’t believe her. It seemed to work though as he huffed from the other side.

“And you’re still the favorite?” He asked rhetorically and bitterly as heavy footsteps began making their way away from her door hinting at his departure. They both waited another minute before visibly relaxing now that they weren’t caught. She moved her attention back to JJ who made his way into the restroom to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth out. There were bright, red gashes down his back making her breath hitch as she realized she was the blame. She tried to shake the thought away, ignoring the stirring in her pit. Like she had enjoyed staking her own claim. (Y/N) paid attention to what she should be disgusted in instead. JJ was using her toothbrush, the one she’d been using daily for the last month. But it warmed her heart a little that JJ hadn’t minded using it. He was so calm, walking around her room and using her things like he belonged there. Yesterday she had woken beside John B in the Chateau and today she had JJ in her bedroom on Figure Eight. Oh how the tables had turned.

It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).

The words made their way to the forefront of her mind as she chewed on her bottom lip watching him. He turned to her with a nonchalant, unreadable expression on his face. “So round 3?” He joked as he threw the hand towel he used to dry his face across his shoulder and crossed his arms in front of her. The way his eyes scanned her body hidden by the covers made her question whether it was indeed a joke or not though. The area between her legs reawakened from the way he hungrily looked her over like she’d been served to him on a silver platter. It became obvious rather quickly that they couldn’t be alone anymore without succumbing to the temptation.

“No,” (Y/N) said adamantly as she stood up dragging the covers behind her and retrieving a matching lavender lace bra and panty set to wear. She moved to the closet after a quick slam of the drawer and found jean shorts with a simple white t-shirt to wear. “You’d look better in mine,” JJ hummed from where he stood checking her out as she bit back a snarky remark and evaded the idea of herself in his clothing. It seemed as though they were back to normal, pushing until the other broke. Clearly last nights words were lost to the night. (Y/N) turned to make her way towards the bathroom acting unbothered with the tips of ear feeling a little hot and heart skipping a beat in her chest. He made no effort to move out of her way, just grinned with entertainment. His favorite past time was pushing her buttons until she snapped. This time pushing her buttons held a new type of reward that he wanted to relive a dozen times over.

(Y/N) scoffed at him though, squinting her eyes in mock anger to see if he would budge. But he simply peered down towards the sheet covering her chest and leaned closer to her. “I said-,” his thumb running across her bottom lip made her falter. The want in his eyes was pouring into her all too quickly. She was trying to make sense of this situation she had landed herself into but JJ made it easy to lose track of everything. Her heart and body yearned for things that she wasn’t allowed to have. She couldn’t explain how she had let herself be roped into the mess that is JJ. He was too good at reminding her though, lowering his hand down her jaw to her throat. He closed the space, tightening his fingers and feeling the jump in her pulse.

It was that small detail that made him act. “I know what you said,” he murmured before whirling them around so that her back hit the wall next to the door. His hand rested above her head, effectively trapping her against his body. “You said no… But you’re just so reactive,” he claimed as his leg slid between hers. The position mirrored the one from last night lighting the flame of arousal with memories and nothing but the thin sheet covering her as his bare thigh rubbed against her core. JJ felt it immediately, the wetness seeping through and making him groan quietly. Her breathing was already picking up, cheeks becoming flushed in a matter of seconds. “See Princess? I know what you like,” he did. In a matter of twenty four hours he had picked up on every cue that gave away what made her tick. “Like when your dad woke me up knocking on the door. I was so hard,” he pressed against her harder, “I know you would’ve liked me waking you up by stuffing you full of my cock.”

“JJ..,” she moaned his name without thinking moving her hand to grip at his wrist in a warning. Her knees wanted to give out under her from the indecency he was spewing. He leaned down to feather his lips across her ear feeling her tremble against his body. “Should’ve made you scream daddy so he knew who owned his daughter now,” JJ whispered with a menacing squeeze that made her whimper, breaths coming out short. She would’ve been on the floor now had it not been for his grip on her neck. He almost devoured her the second he felt the damp spot on the sheet grow at his words. His boxers were constricting at a rapid pace now that he discovered a new kink as his lips latched onto her shoulder close to where his bite mark was. “You like that? Like imagining daddy shoving his cock into his sleeping girl?” JJ groaned sending vibrations through her skin that made her body arch into him.

“Fuck- J,” (Y/N) gasped out catching him off guard and shoving him abruptly from where he stood. JJ’s eyes were darker now, taking one step forward ready to pounce before he noticed the fiery look she held. His chest was rising and falling now fighting himself from reaching out and taking her again. “I’m serious. Last night was sex. That’s all it was, okay? We spent months playing this little game and it was bound to happen. Now it’s out of our system,” it was a lie when she said it, they both knew it, “and it doesn’t have to happen again. I have to go apologize to John B.” She moved to the bathroom and closed the door behind herself with a loud thud before he had the chance to rebuttal. She leaned back into it closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

(Y/N) hadn’t intended to be so mean with her words but he wasn’t listening to her and she needed him to remember why he hated her before they met. It was easier to have JJ hate her. If he did, she wouldn’t be going through all these conflicting thoughts in her head. She suddenly wished her mom was still here. She would have had the best advice for her. It probably would’ve gone something along the lines of follow your heart but her mom hadn’t met JJ yet, the culprit of her swaying heart. (Y/N) sighed rubbing her entire face as if that would somehow wake her up from her nightmare.

After a moment of alone time to calm her unfurling heat, she got dressed with the clothes she had brought into the bathroom. Her hair was a mess from where she had fallen asleep with it wet so she most definitely had to brush it. The memory of them in the bathtub made her pause in the mirror. She could still feel his fingers tracing the bruise he had left and the adoring way he had cleaned every corner of her body. He didn’t deserve her attitude yet she had given it to him anyways. No matter how much John B was probably blaming JJ, it was ultimately her fault for giving into the desire. It was such a frustrating notion to her that she wanted to punch the mirror in front of her but she’d end up hurting herself more than accomplishing anything.

Her moment of alone time turned into twenty minutes of stress-filled pacing. JJ’s wary knock at the door is what snapped her out of it. She ran a hand through her wavy hair before opening it and finding JJ wearing his outfit from the night before with concern written all over his face. JJ knew he had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment when she strutted around with nothing but a sheet on. She had that power over him, to rile him up without actively doing anything. JJ still wanted to give her any necessary space before trying to speak to her but she was taking too long and he was frightened by how often she fell victim to her doubts. “You okay?” he checked in with her, scanning her face which was devoid of any clues as to how she was feeling. His hand tentatively reached up to brush some hair behind her ear gently making her heart do somersaults. “Yeah,” she mumbled unable to resist nudging against his hand to melt into it as a small peace offering, bathing in the warmth his body offered her.

She was supposed to be angry, shoving him away. But the whirlwind going on inside of her tugged her from one side to the other. JJ kept his hand there, soothingly rubbing circles into her cheek. He was still cautious as he stepped closer to her, to wrap an arm around her delicate waist and better angle his hand. Her eyes never left his as she allowed him to bring her into his embrace. (Y/N) wanted to fight against it inside but her body melted into his without letting her second guess it. “I’ll go talk to JB with you,” he finally told her after a minute or two of calming her down. He already behaved like a coward leaving the Chateau before things got out of hand. Which meant JJ had to go and at least try to apologize and own up to the fact that he just should’ve gone about things a different way. He didn’t know how well that’d fare over or how he’d handle John B’s valid attitude towards them, especially her, but he would try nonetheless. At least that’s what he also told Kie last night. But he kept that conversation to himself for now.

Him joining her was shocking, enough for her eyes to swirl with uncertainty. “JJ- I don’t know. What if it’s not a good idea?” she mumbled then, her hand fisting his shirt as the anxiety of what was about to occur began to eat her up. If there was something she struggled to keep within, it would be the tell-tale sign of her nerves. Her heartbeat would run amuck and the nausea would hit her in a way she could barely keep her balance. This time instead of needing a Zofran it was JJ who helped keep her breathing steady and panic attack at bay. His fingers slipped under her shirt in the back, tracing his hand to her hip and offering her a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t care honestly. I’ve got some things I have to apologize for too,” he sighed hoping this could’ve been pushed back maybe just a week. That would give him enough time to settle into whatever this was and break her cement walls down. But she couldn’t live another day knowing how mad John B had been yesterday. It hurt her because she’d been the one to cause so much agony. And no matter what happened, John B still held a place in her heart which complicated things further in her mind. There was a war between her heart and brain that she just wanted to end one way or another. “And I messed up last night. Not with John B but with you. Takes two to tango and I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he added then assuaging her guilt. His fingers ran over her hip bone, circling there for a minute before pressing in slightly.

The look on her face when she walked into her room last night would be engrained into his hippocampus forever. The wet puffy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, broken exterior. He blamed himself for that. For causing her so much turmoil. But he was selfish at the same time, glad that he’d been the one to find her. The back of her mind made it a point to notice that he regretted not being there for her, not the actual sin they committed. This new side of him was frightening yet everything she wanted at the same time. (Y/N) nodded wordlessly as her hip nudged out slightly into his palm, comforted by the soft caressing while also conflicted. Not knowing how to respond to him when she couldn’t process the change in their dynamic. She also knew there’d be no stopping him even if she wanted to.

“We can take my bike, stashed it in some bushes,” the casual words summoned an unexpected laugh from her. She hadn’t thought about how he had gotten to her house last night, too distracted by his unholy mouth and skilled hands. It made sense that he would’ve had to hide the green worn down bike so that nobody called the cops with stupid accusations. A small smile danced on her lips as she pulled away to lead them out of her bedroom. “I’ve never ridden on your bike,” the comment made him return the same mischievous grin while glancing at the hallway.

“Never had a girl besides Kie on my bike,” it shouldn’t have made her feel jealous but God, it was like an accidental flip of a switch, there were so many times she had thought they liked each other. Hearing that she was the only girl to ride with him made her miss a step on the way down the staircase to which JJ’s hand jumped out to grab her arm quickly. A small embarrassed smile shot his way before he let go with a small squeeze to her forearm and she continued down the steps hastily. He noticed it, noticed the unintended affect his words had. But before he could add something else in, a younger girl was walking out of a bedroom at the same time they were approaching the second floor.

Wheezie’s eyes bulged out of her head behind her glasses, looking from (Y/N)’s widened eyes to the frozen stranger behind her. “That’s not John B,” her sister stated the obvious lowering her phone with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She had also been informed by Rafe that their sister was supposedly bed-ridden with a gnarly hangover which didn’t seem to be the case at all. “Nope, JJ,” he introduced himself with a half-assed smile not intending to come across as rude but seriously. Did people have to keep mentioning him? She crossed her arms over her chest with such a wicked smile.

“Okay Wheezie. John B knows so you can’t use that against me,” (Y/N) blurted out immediately recognizing the intentions behind her sisters stance. But the younger girl just smiled wider, taking a pause to come up with something else. “Well dad doesn’t know. He doesn’t let guys spend the night remember?” she reminded her of Ward’s rules to let her know she had them by the balls. (Y/N) cursed under her breath looking down the steps to the first floor before meeting Wheezie’s eyes and running her fingers through her hair. Normally they always got along with minimal issues. But if Wheezie caught a scent of wrongdoing, she was like a dog with a bone.

“Fine. I’ll do whatever you want. Just tell me later because we’ve really got to go,” (Y/N) gave in as she stepped down the last step with JJ following suit now that the situation was handled. Wheezie let out an excited squeal running back into her room to surely make a whole list of things that she would make (Y/N) do. The girl couldn’t even help the chuckle that escaped her lips as they walked the rest of the way to the main floor. She had to give it to her sister. Wheezie was indeed too smart for her own good. “I like her. She’s a hustler,” JJ nodded with a serious tone that made (Y/N) laugh a bit too loudly and shake her head. He cracked a big grin, teeth showing and eyes crinkling at the sound that had his heart swelling.

With one last glance up the stairs where her sister resided, (Y/N) headed out the door with a happy smile feeling a little more airy than before. It felt odd to have JJ walking through her house, meeting one of her family members. Her life with the Pogues this summer had been an adventure of a lifetime and she didn’t tend to mix it too much with her home life. Even John B had only come over a handful of times for dinner in the short couple months of them dating. And he really only slept over once or twice. Kie was the exception. They had plenty of sleepovers at both houses. It’s not that she was ashamed of the guys, it was more like she was ashamed of her life. The pointless knick knacks that rich people bought, the amount of empty bedrooms, the sense of entitlement that the people in her life had. Money would always come and go, as long as she had her real family, the Pogues, with her then everything would be alright.

“She’s like my sister though so it doesn’t count,” JJ spoke, bringing her out of her thoughts as they walked down the lawn. (Y/N) glanced over at him with a puzzled look on her face which made him pause at the side gate they were coming up to. She pulled the gate door open until she realized he wasn’t walking through. “Kie?.. She’s like my sister so it doesn’t count… You’re the first girl to ride my bike,” he put emphasis on the word by stepping closer to her, using his knuckle to brush against the back of hers before feathering his fingertips up her arm and shoulder. (Y/N)’s heart began to pound in her chest when she picked up on what he was saying. His fingers continued until he cupped her chin, thumb pulling her bottom lip softly before releasing it and watching it bounce back. JJ was enthralled by the sight and she him.

No matter how much she wanted to release herself from the guilt and kiss him until their lips were sore and raw, (Y/N) also wanted to tell him to quit it. To stop making this more difficult than needed but somehow the world slips away when he’s near. Her bottom lip was lit on fire where the pad of his thumb touched, she was drawn to him like a magnet. His head inched forward almost as if waiting for her to push him away. “J..,” she mumbled reaching her hand up onto his chest, running her palm across it until she arrived at his shark tooth necklace and tugged slightly. She did nothing to pull away from him as the memory of it hitting her chin surfaced and weakened her with the tingles it provoked. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers. His tongue slipped out to lick his bottom lip, purposefully smoothing over hers. (Y/N) tugged hard on the necklace not even a second later unable to refrain herself. Their lips connected, JJ’s hand molding into the curve of her neck while the other got lost in her hair. Kissing JJ felt like the first time every time. It was passionate, breath-taking.

Her knees wanted to buckle in his hold, sensing the adoration mixed in. It was like JJ read her mind, the way he walked her back into the gate. (Y/N)’s back met the searing metal that only added to the heat escalating the temperature of her body. But he didn’t let his hand roam. Instead he deepened the kiss, putting spotlight attention on taking the breath out of her lungs. He explored every corner, tasted the mint of her toothpaste, memorized the way her tongue slid against his. JJ could only focus on the moment, shoving every worry aside with ease. It was the way her fingers brushed the bare skin under his shirt that had him pressing her body into the fence.

(Y/N) gasped, tilting her head to the side away from him slightly to pant for air. JJ just saw the opportunity to kiss up the curve of her jaw, causing her eyes to flutter. Her nails dug into the crook of his v-line just as he reached the spot on her neck that twisted knots in her belly. JJ had to stifle a groan, sucking on the sensitive skin possessively and with fervor as his hand gripped her hair straining her neck as forced it up. He moved with gentle yet frantic urgency, swiping his tongue every so often to hear the mewl that escaped her lips. The pleasure and stinging sensation blinding her from how careless leaving yet another mark on her was. It wasn’t until he was satisfied and she was whining from the discomfort evolving that he pulled back to admire his work ignoring the temptation to see red. His lips parted, short harsh breaths washing over the darkened spot on her neck. (Y/N) let out an involuntary whimper at the feeling, meeting his forehead with hers to sway his attention.

JJ’s hold loosened at the same time a car engine roared through the street. Had cars been passing by the whole time? Neither one had been able to hear a thing besides the person in front of them. He still preferred to focus on the lines and dips of her face over the Kooks driving by. It felt like they were in their own bubble, rid of consequences. But some thought would always creep into the front of her mind as the oxygen seemed to reach her head again. It was only a name. But a name that held enough weight to get her to drop her hand from his shirt. JJ’s eyes flashed with something unreadable as he witnessed the moment she slipped away again.

“So I take it that means you only have one helmet?” It was meant to show indifference and lighten the magnitude of the moment but (Y/N)’s voice wobbled. She would’ve looked away the second she said it but the hand on her chin kept her where JJ wanted. The other one fell to his side aching in a similar way her body did. “It’s yours Princess,” JJ spoke with deeper meaning behind the hint of playfulness. The helmet wasn’t the only thing that was hers, his mouth was, his body, his thoughts, the stupid red baseball cap, especially his heart. Most definitely his heart. She could see it in blue of his irises. The intensity behind his words left her speechless once again. As much as she wanted to read between the lines, there were too many obstacles between them.

It was JJ who finally had to muster the strength to pull apart, his fingers tightening just briefly before letting go of her chin completely. He masked his own disappointment with the only way they knew how to communicate. A devious little smirk emerged at the prominent hickey forming on her neck and he rubbed at his jaw contemplating his work. “Damn, there’s no missin’ that,” JJ chuckled snapping her out of it as her hand flew up to her neck to touch the sore area. She cursed under breath, shoving at his arm slightly with her free hand as she lifted away from the fence.

“I think you’ve marked me enough,” (Y/N) huffed not even wanting to imagine what John B’s reaction would be. The bite on her shoulder and the other hickey was covered by the t-shirt, but this one would take more effort to hide. She flipped some of her hair forward which was temporarily successful. It irked JJ to see her covering up the evidence of his touch. He wanted to behave but his jealousy was ravenous. With a mind of it’s own that didn’t think about anybody else. “Don’t think it’s enough if you can still cover them,” he noted, the smirk disappearing into a thin line on his lips. She rolled her eyes at the comment biting back the urge to remind him she wasn’t his. As much as she wanted to wear it proudly, show all the girls on both sides of the island that JJ had been the one to do this, she couldn’t. (Y/N) simply had to ignore how hot his possessive tendencies were.

“Whatever,” she exclaimed, too flustered to find a witty response. She opened the gate again, not waiting for JJ this time around as she slipped through and began walking to the side of her house where JJ had presumably left the bike. He took just another second before following after her, taking the lead since he was the only one who knew where the bike was actually hidden. They glanced at each other for a meager second before (Y/N) was turning her attention to the oncoming car. JJ looked away, clicking his tongue against the rooftop of his mouth as they came up to one particularly big bush. He disappeared behind it before re-emerging pushing the handles out. (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat now that they were actually about to leave. She felt frozen as JJ casually hopped onto the bike and turned the key. The sound made her jump in JJ’s peripheral view. He turned his head towards her, reading the hesitance on her expression.

JJ reached his arm back to grab the helmet, nudging it into her stomach gently. “Hey it’ll be fine,” he meant both the bike ride and the conversation with John. But he couldn’t really know if it would be so the attempt at easing her was pointless.. She exhaled for a moment, taking in the tenderness that he spoke with and the affection swimming in the oceans of his eyes before nodding. She took the helmet from his grasp to put it on. Her nervous fingers fiddled with the clasp to close it once it was on. It’s not like she really knew how to do it anyways so the jitters kicking in didn’t help. Her inexperience was so obvious that it was embarrassing. But JJ’s rough fingers snuck past hers, pushing them out of the way to clasp it shut with one easy motion. “There,” his voice was kind, devoid of any judgement or ridicule. The stirring in his chest at the sight of her in his helmet further restricted his ability to breathe.

She slipped onto the bike with a shade of soft pink traveling up her neck. (Y/N) made sure to scoot closer, wrapping her arms around JJ’s torso and holding her hands there in preparation for her first ride. The heat of his body was soothing as the apphrension grew. JJ just always seemed to read her perfectly though, giving her hands a small squeeze before putting both of his on the handles and beginning to ride out onto the street. She let out a small gasp at the wind blowing past them when he really started down the road. It was more exhilarating than she could’ve imagined it being. Her senses were hyper alert, aware of every turn and increase of speed.

He was a pro at it though, weaving through cars and traffic with no issue. JJ could feel her tighten her grip every time they got close to another car. Normally he’d tease Kie, riding as close as he could to it just to hear her yell at him. But with her he sped farther away, not wanting to scare her during her right off the bat. This side of himself was just as surprising to him as it has been to her. The boys would prod and tease him until his grave if they found out. JJ had spent so long trying to convince himself that what he felt was just lust and taboo desire. But now these pent up emotions were finally loose and swirling inside of him he struggled to refrain from from acting normally.

(Y/N) did end up raising her head up very slowly at one point to take in the ocean view at their side. The sun was still out, shining down on the water below and giving it a yellow tint behind the clear blue. The rush she got from the wind hitting every part of her body only heightened the beauty of it. It was enough for her to forget the wave of nausea that had been hitting a few minutes ago and the fear that had kept her glued to his back. JJ had caught sight of her in his mirror, admiring the serenity in her features. (Y/N) looked breathtaking with her freshly washed hair flowing back, her eyes filled with peace. He thinks he understood in that moment that what he felt was called love. There was no other word for it but that. There was no tip-toeing around the way his heart felt like imploding in his chest and his lungs felt like evaporating into thin air when she was near.

Just as quick as it happened though, the semi speeding past them in the lane snapped her out of it. She was back into the curve of his back, helmet smushed into the space between his shoulder blades. Hands wound tightly around him.

They continued the rest of the way in silence. The further they got from Figure Eight, the more her body became rigid against his back. It hit her then that it was an extremely bad idea to show up with JJ but it was too late to turn around now. The familiar streets of the Cut came into view reinforcing her panic. Her grip had cemented so much JJ thought she would actually leave a few bruises or wounds behind. “Nothing’s gonna happen (Y/N),” he tried, lacing his fingers with hers for just a quick second and squeezing before having to grab the handle to turn into the Chateau.

The familiar sound of the dirt bike alerted everyone inside to their presence. John B was darting up from his spot on the couch faster than Kie and Pope could even process it. The front door was propelled open against the siding of the house, John B’s eyes narrowing on JJ who was helping his girlfriend off the dirt bike and then unclasping the helmet for her. “You’re fucking joking right now,” John B saw red, anger etched in his entire soul from head to toe. If looks could kill, they’d be dead and buried deep underground. (Y/N) had the thought to at least cover her neck with her hair and then turn away from JJ to confront the fiery brown eyes shooting daggers their way.

“Hey, it’s not what you think JB please. I just came to apologize. We both did,” (Y/N) spoke in a soft tone to relay just how much she meant it. She hadn’t intended for John B to end up as casualty in the process. She truly hadn’t thought at all in the moment. Kie and Pope came out through the front door to stand behind the fuming man next to them as she took a couple of uncertain steps forward. “Yesterday- that’s not what should’ve happened and I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) pleaded with him but the words couldn’t heal a wound of this nature. Especially not with his best friend standing behind her with crossed arms leaning his bum against the bike looking like a pompous asshole. Her words had stung JJ hard after the revelations they had whispered into the dead of the night. It wasn’t intended to come off as regretful but he couldn’t help but take it as that. Lashing out from the burn of her words, he smirked at John B to provoke him instead of keeping a level head.

“Not what I think? Seriously?” John B seethed not even wanting to voice his deplorable thoughts because they’d be too severe and permanent. He took steps forward to be face to face with (Y/N) but still keeping his distance. His blood was sizzling, eyes pitch-black and somehow losing light by the second. If (Y/N) had thought he was furious yesterday, it had nothing on the anger John B felt with the pair in his sight. “I think you’re just a spoiled Kook that came to experiment with us Pogues. Had fun yet? Whoring around?” John B spat as he kept his focus on her. If he dared to look JJ’s way again he might not be able to restrain himself.

(Y/N)’s eyes watered, taking a step back as Kie tried to rest her hand on the tense muscle of John B’s shoulder to diffuse the tension. Maybe in some way she had come to hear his demeaning words. She felt worthy of them. JJ, however, was the complete opposite. He had managed to keep quiet until know, acting on impulse as he sprung up to shield her from the livid man in front of her. He could accept that John B was more than just resentful, but throwing insults (Y/N)’s way was a line he wouldn’t let JB cross. “Watch your fucking mouth John B. You’re just mad that your little game didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to,” JJ bellowed at him matching his rage with an icy glare, knowing exactly what buttons to press before Kie could set out to cool him off.

JB’s arms ripped out of Kie’s grip in a split second decision, thrusting out to shove at his best friends hard chest with flat palms. It sent him falling back but only provoked him more. JJ looked like the devil. His lips curving into a wicked smile, hair tousled by the wind. Blue eyes were dripping with venom. Quicker than JJ could retaliate, (Y/N)’s small, gentle hands caught the back of his arms before he could stumble into her. “J Please,” (Y/N) begged under her breath into the privacy of his muscular back sounding distraught as she grounded him, “this isn’t why we came here.” He did his best to inhale deeply through a clenched jaw, visibly taking breaths from within to calm himself. It was rare to get him to pull away from the blinding fury once he was absorbed by it but he was helpless, in the mercy of her soft heart. Focusing on the delicate way she tried to soothe him by rubbing small circles into his side. It might’ve almost been enough to end the fight but it only set John B into a spiral witnessing the affectionate exchange. It was now the second time he was reminded of the fact that (Y/N) wasn’t the one winding him down.

“You’re worse than me JJ you know that? Luke Maybank’s kid,” John B landed a low blow that visibly made JJ falter, jaw flexing in rage, “Just another delinquent in the works... ,” he drawled out with a closed fist shove of JJ’s shoulder, the tension skyrocketing around them and pricking the hairs on everyone’s skin. “C’mon John B- this is pointless nothing is getting resolved- we can wait till everyone is ready,” Pope was practically begging as he attempted to tug at John B’s arm. But he was strong-willed and unflinching as he stepped forward to be almost chest to chest to JJ. Blue met brown as their eyes locked, everything eerily quiet. “You think she’s gonna want you?” The vindictive words crashed into him. JJ couldn’t stand being compared to Luke. His dad beat his mom and beat him too and JJ swore that would never be him. And knowing that he wasn’t worthy of (Y/N) was one thing, being reminded of it was another.

Except JJ knew exactly how to retaliate.

His muscles loosened as all the tension was released from his body. A lazy, horrific smile appeared on JJ’s face with cold eyes staring him down. It was a look unlike he’d ever given anyone. Kie was almost quivering just from witnessing it, much less did she want to be on the receiving end of it. He’d spent months pining after her, dealing with with his conflicting emotions, watching his best friend be happy and ignoring his own needs for John B’s sake. But JJ wasn’t going to do that anymore, not when it came to her.

So he knew exactly what to say.

And the color in (Y/N)’s face drained as JJ crept a couple of measured steps until he was standing beside her. She knew what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth.

JJ’s fingers trailed over to her hair, flicking it back as he bit his lip to contain the sinister smile. Everyone’s eyes falling on the darkening hickey as (Y/N) felt her cheeks hot, head spinning and eyes blurry with embarrassment and anger.

“Well JB that’s not what she was saying in her bedroom last night. She wanted me a lot..,” JJ chuckled criminally while maintaining a look of pure satisfaction. Making it clear that (Y/N) had not just wanted him, but begged for it. He practically ate up the shock piercing John B’s features. Just to make sure there was no miscommunication, JJ sunk the knife in further for good measure.

“You know.. her bedroom… with those cute glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling?”

It was Kie that gasped before John B reacted. She’d been in (Y/N)’s room plenty of times to know exactly what he was talking about.

Less than a second later, JJ’s jaw made a worrisome cracking noise as John B connected his balled up fist to it. Despite the metallic taste in his mouth, JJ didn’t hesitate to lunge forward and tackle John B to the ground. Both of them snapped, yelling profanities and taking their rage out on the other. He swung blindly, rings jabbing into John B’s abdomen. The taller man winced, before thrusting his knee upwards and digging it into JJ’s chest.

“JJ!”

“John B!”

Both girls kept yelling and risking a hit by trying to get in the middle of them. But it was next to impossible. Pope jumped up to try to intercept but they were both pushed over the edge now. He couldn’t get a single chance through the flying limbs. They had both been stewing in their rage for too long now. John B had been waiting to do this since last night and seeing as he hadn’t been able to because JJ was on Figure Eight, he was only further enraged. “You were my best fucking friend!” John B shouted as he managed to flip JJ onto his back, punching him coldly without measure. (Y/N) cried out and screamed at them, pleading as she watched JJ close his blue eyes. His body went limp, John B holding him up by the grip on his shirt. She recognized what he was doing because she had done the same thing by coming here. They were both looking to assuage their guilt by looking for punishment from the person they had betrayed.

“John B, he isn’t fighting back!” (Y/N) pleaded loudly with a tear-stricken face, catching his wrist before he could swing again. But he was stronger than her, especially fueled by the burning jealousy and wrath at their infidelity. She was no match for him as he landed another hard blow at JJ. “Fight back!” John B yelled into his face but JJ just gave him a lopsided grin, blood snaking it’s way down his chin to his throat and staining the hem of his colar line. He let out a heart-wrenching yell as his fist landed on the grass next to JJ’s head.

Everyone paused.

John B’s heavy breathing broke through the sounds of the crickets.

They just stared at each other while the other looked on. Almost as if they were communicating without saying a word.

Pope decided to use this momentary pause and separate them, latching on to John B’s shoulders to drag him away. It was relatively easy to do considering JB was no longer fighting back. His eyes were swelling with frustration and fury, tears that he was trying to keep in making their way out at an unstoppable pace. Beating JJ to a pulp would be too easy and he wasn’t even getting the satisfaction of the blonde haired guy pushing back. “You were my best friend and you fucked my girlfriend,” he spoke loudly, but more disheartened towards him watching as (Y/N) knelt at his side to check on the bruising eye.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) sobbed to both of them, feeling like this was all her fault. Her fingers swiped softly at the blood pooling under JJ’s busted lip making him wince and her heart tighten. “It’s fine Princess. Takes two to tango remember?” JJ’s voice came out raspy, strained by the pain creeping through his body. His eye squinted, groaning at the uncomfortable throbbing coming from his side. John B had managed to get him quite good but she was right, he wanted to get hit. He wanted to be numb, his guilt could subside knowing that his best friend was able to take out the heartbreak and anger he felt on him.

(Y/N) shook her head though, standing up with the weight of her actions crushing her shoulders. If there was any remedy to this situation, it was to cut herself out of the equation completely. How would they be able to fix anything when just her presence caused these emotions to rupture out of them? She would always be a lingering reminder of their infidelity. Her head tilted to the side, watching Pope and Kie attempt to calm John B. She hadn’t even noticed until now that Kie’s cheeks were as wet as hers. It was just as agonizing to her to see their unit be torn apart. Pope was rattled, feeling powerless to stop them. They had had arguments and fist fights before about nonsense, but nothing this serious. He hadn’t even been able to get in the middle without being injured himself. It was all too much to take in. They were all perfectly fine before she arrived, and now they were more shattered than ever.

JJ observed her features the whole time, was privy to the way she detached herself emotionally to save the rest of them. But he didn’t want her to. He was selfish and greedy, willing to beg John B for forgiveness the rest of his life if it meant that (Y/N) didn’t run away. “(Y/N), hey,” his voice was still rough, but there was an edge of distress. She couldn’t take sole blame for the eruption their behavior had caused. But nothing he could say would really change her mind. There was a distant look in her eye when she focused on him.

He couldn’t even get another word out before she was turning her back to him walking away from them, from her life. Her shoulders were shaking, the reality of her consequences settling in. Her hand moved to cover her silent choked sob, free arm wrapping around herself to grace herself with some comfort. JJ wouldn’t give up on her without putting forth effort though. A beating he could take. Letting her slip through his fingers was something he couldn’t afford. Not when he finally had her.

Had her smiling and laughing at his stupid jokes. He could still hear her sweet giggling in his ear. See the heart-melting smile taking over her alluring features. Had seen her sleeping serenely in the coziness of her insanely overpriced California king, lips parted with a little bit of drool sneaking out. He’d had the privilege of bathing with her, exploring every luxurious inch of skin while quelling the ache in her bones. She had washed his damn hair. The feeling of her careful fingers on him in such an innocent yet intimate moment still drove him mad. The scent of her fruity cshampoo resided, mixing in with the dirt covering his backside as an encouragement to follow her.

“(Y/N), stop,” JJ managed to get out as he stood up at the same time holding his side with one hand where it seemed to hurt the most. The girl didn’t listen to him though, she kept walking with more intent to distance herself. The others were looking on but nothing else was said. John B turned around, refusing to watch any longer as he went back into his home to bitterly find the First Aid Kit. Kie wanted to step toward JJ to check on him but he rushed off, walking as fast he could to reach (Y/N). Pope placed a hand on Kie’s shoulder sighing before nudging her inside. Nothing would be resolved within two days.

(Y/N) ignores his voice calling out to her, shutting out every emotion related to JJ possible. She could return to her ice queen status, embody it once more to bury the agony and enter a state of desolation. But he was persistent, walking after her even as she got further and further away from the house. “(Y/N),” JJ’s voice was calm from behind her but she shook her head trying to will away the oncoming rampage of tears. They had started from the moment the boys started throwing fists and now they had a life of their own. “Hey- I.. I can take you home, you don’t have to walk or get a ride,” JJ tried to pull her back to him by any means but she stopped dead in her tracks. He hadn’t even realizing he was gaining on her until almost running into her when she came to a halt.

“No JJ. Don’t you get it?” she asked without hesitancy as she shifted to face him. JJ saw nothing in her eyes, no glint or glimmer, no hope for their possible future. “We can’t see each other anymore. We hurt people when we’re together JJ,” (Y/N) was stoic, refusing to instill JJ with any false hope. There was no world where they could be an item. Where they could cuddle in front of their friends. Go on double dates. Marry with a best man if it came down to that. As much as she wanted to let go of everything and melt into his stupidly perfect lips, she remained passive. Refusing to acknowledge the love she so obviously felt for him and choosing to endure the pain that would no doubt find a permanent home within her. (Y/N) locked it all away, tucking it deep into a place where it couldn’t reach her.

JJ’s Adam’s apple bobbed while his nose scrunched up, shaking his head in refusal. He looked off into the distance before meeting her stare. His throat felt dry, constricting from the fear accumulating the more she pulled away. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N),” JJ repeated the words from last night, watching as something flashed through her eyes. “I meant that. And you meant what you said. About you wanting me,” JJ reminded taking a shaky step forward before saying fuck all and reaching his hands up to cradle (Y/N)’s cheeks in his hand. He gave her a torturously sad smile, fingers tracing the lines of her cheekbone. “You remember, last night in the bathtub too. I know you do,” he whispered, coming in closer to her, enveloping her senses.

He almost had her for a moment, (Y/N)’s brain cells mushing when he admitted that he did remember his late night confession. JJ’s pure vulnerability and the slightly forceful grip on her cheeks allowed her to rethink for a moment, consider the possibility that they could somehow fix this together. Her own admission had been a forthcoming revelation. More than JJ could’ve imagined when he brought it up. His blue eyes pierced through her, shaky hand gripping at his wrist. It was overwhelming, almost suffocating to be tempted in such a way. Her eyes closed. Knowing the way he was silently begging her every way possible would make her cave.

“It was sex… I was horny and you were too,” (Y/N) didn’t feel like she was in her body as the words came out. Her voice monotone and quiet. He was close enough for her to not have to yell it out. “This was nothing,” she continued even as she felt his hands drop from her face. It was daunting, so much so that she refused to see the destruction she was surely executing. Her heart was close to vanishing, entire body going numb. Not only was she losing a second person in the span of twenty four hours, but she was also losing her person. The one person she thinks might’ve been meant for her.

But JJ needed her to face it. He needed her to take in every single aspect of what this meant. (Y/N) wasn’t just taking a break from them, she was leaving. Closing the chapter on their summer together and ending something that had just barely gotten started. “Nothing? I think you’re a liar,” JJ’s temper was rising with her, loathing how she could let her overthinking take control of her life. “I think we’ve both known it since the moment we met. This is real and you’re just fucking scared,” his voice raised, finally showing his disdain for her choices.

(Y/N) dared to open her eyes which was something she’d regret till the end of time. JJ’s face had completely fallen. Her insides twisted, knotting and curling until she wanted to turn around and let out all the contents in her stomach. Which were actually none but eating right now sounded like a joke. The light in his blue irises that attracted (Y/N) to him in the first place had dimmed now. Disrupted by her hasty disregard. His lips were in a thin line, hands balled at his sides, chest rising and falling with every excruciating breath. It took everything inside of her to turn her heart to stone. Telling herself it was for the best.

“I’m sorry JJ,” she finalized the conversation.

Turning away from him and putting this singular moment behind herself.

Allowing herself to believe that they would be better off without her meddling.

The flood resumed down her cheeks now that he couldn’t see her disappearing into the following street. In the very back of (Y/N)’s mind, the little spot reserved for JJ, she still wished he’d chase her once more. Nudge her his way with his electrifying touch, kiss her until it felt like there was a volcano erupting inside of her. She’d say yes to the ride this time. She’d allow him to hold her in bed and soak his shirt with her tears. Even stay the night and every night after for as long as he needed to.

But none of that happened.

There were no footsteps besides her rapidly paced ones. (Y/N) wanted to say she was relieved, but it felt more like the entire universe had disintegrated. Her lungs felt like they were tied and knotted with rope, only able to take shallow breaths. A choice that took her all of two seconds before she was regretting had transformed everything.

If (Y/N) had thought any of this would be easy, the red baseball cap perched on top of her grey chair sent her into another meltdown, knees buckling to the ground with no one to catch her this time.

She’d lost them all.

*****

Read Part 1 here

Feedback/Thoughts welcomed in my inbox! x

If you’d like to be tagged in future posts of this mini-series please join my taglist here🫶🏼

A/N: I’ve literally never written blood play or subspace so I hope I did it justice😭 Don’t know what got into me but possessive JJ is just everything😩

I have another work in my drafts but it’s an anon request so part 3 will be coming later on❤️

Thank you so much for reading whether you came for the smut or plot😭😂! Please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed it!💕

John B’s Mini Series Tags: @fishingirl12 @sweetlikerockcandy @imtired0811

General Tags: @dropperyourhnd @leclercch16 @kys4-20

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jeneveuxrein · 7 months

Text

kiss and make up (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 10.1K

(posted right when the clock hits midnight in seoul, i hope everyone enjoys)

tw: brief depiction of sexual assault and actual assault

-- -- --

You watch her slip her dress on, blonde hair swept to the side as she reaches for her zipper.

“Let me,” The blanket slides down your stomach, resting on your waist as you sit behind her. You slowly bring the zipper up, kissing her softly on her shoulder as she straightens the fabric. “Do you have to go?” You murmur, lips tasting her skin, the audible sigh coming from her body.

“I do,” Rosie nods, straightening her hair to fall freely along her back. Her head turns slightly, “You know I can’t stay. He’s expecting me.”

“Are you going to have sex with him?” The question comes out harsher than you intended.

“Stop,” Rosie scoffs, shaking her head as she stands. “We haven’t done that.”

Yet, you add quietly for her in your head.

Neither of you say anything else as Rosie reaches for the ring on the nightstand, slipping it on her finger.

You’d love nothing more than to toss that offending piece of jewelry into the Han River. Hell, you’d fly over the Pacific Ocean and drop it where no one could find it.

Because if Rosie was ever going to get a ring, it was supposed to be from you.

“Are you going this weekend?” Rosie asks, placing your clothes on the bed.

You nod reluctantly, as if you had a choice about the event taking place this weekend.

It’s the annual gala for the wealthy and affluent of Seoul. Your family along with Rosie’s are attending. Her father will be saying a few words, which you’re sure that his youngest daughter’s engagement will be announced as well.

“You’re not going to leave him, are you?” It’s a rhetorical question, one you wish had a different answer.

“It’s not that simple,” Rosie rolls her eyes. You’ve known her long enough to learn her tells, and this being one that she’s tired from having the same conversation.

“It’s been a year,” You point out, reaching for your shirt. “You’re engaged now, Chaeng. It seems pretty clear that this isn’t going to continue.”

The thing with you and Rosie is that neither of you wanted to be in this position. You were born into this, this being a stupid rivalry between your fathers. You were raised to hate each other, attending the same schools, competing for the top of the class while juggling the pressures from the public eye.

Being part of Seoul’s elite made you want nothing more than to leave as soon as you finished at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. You wanted to live abroad, working for someone without having your last name be the reason you were hired.

You couldn’t, as much as you tried. You were set to inherit the family business, even though your older sister, Jisoo, was much more capable and wanted to. The multiple arguments you’ve had with your father fell on deaf ears because you were the only son and naturally, you were next in line.

Rosie, on the other hand, wasn’t set to inherit anything except for a cushion that would support her for the rest of her life while her older sister, Alice, ran the company.

It wasn’t easy for her either since her father wanted Rosie to marry someone of equal status, ultimately expanding the Park name into other industries.

When Rosie was introduced to Wonwoo, you knew that was who her father had in mind.

God forbid it be you.

As much as you two acted like you hated each other growing up, one night after a charity event three years ago was where things unfolded.

Having drunk a little more than usual at these types of events, you confided over the shared misery of your families and why everyone just couldn’t get along. Besides that, you found out how much you had in common, sharing the same interests and similar values that sparked what led into something that neither of you were prepared for.

You don’t remember who kissed who first, but that didn’t matter since you both ended up in your bed, spending the night together and realizing that this was the person you wanted to spend all your nights and mornings with.

You’re in love with Rosie, and she’s in love with you.

It’s tragic, really, at the end of the day.

Neither of your families would approve. The media would have a field day if the secret, forbidden relationship got out. You’ve imagined the headlines countlessly throughout the course of the relationship of how the media would tear you apart about two major business conglomerates’ children dating.

If not them, then your parents.

The only people that know of your affair are your siblings, Jennie, and Lisa. Though, the relationship between the latter have their own complexities that you couldn’t fathom.

“What’re you saying?” Rosie asks, crossing her arms, even though she knows exactly what you’re implying.

“We can’t do this anymore,” You say softly, tears pricking your eyes. It kills you to say that out loud, but that’s your reality. You might be meant to be together, but there’s too many things weighing on you that you don’t think you could survive. Hearing Rosie publicly engaged to Jeon Wonwoo is at the top of the list.

“What?” You’re not surprised by her reaction. You’ve had a soft spot for her and she’s always gotten her way with you, but seeing that on her finger changes things. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” You frown, avoiding her gaze. Sure, it’s a bit messed up after what you just did together, but it’s even more messed up that Rosie showed up at your apartment right after Wonwoo proposed. He’s too smitten to believe that she was going to get drinks with Lisa, celebrating the engagement.

(You absolutely knew that if you just proposed to Rosie, you’d be balls deep in her as soon as you were inside the car.)

Wonwoo’s not a bad guy, just collateral in this fucked up situation that he has remained blissfully unaware of for the past year and a half. How oblivious could he be that you’re the one Rosie fucks on the regular, screaming your name as she tells you how much she loves you, is something you didn’t understand.

You’re selfish, wanting her all to yourself, reminding her night in and night out that she was yours as much as you were hers.

When you meet Rosie’s eyes, you almost fold. She looks like she’s about to tell you off, but you watch as she slips into the cool demeanor she carries whenever she’s in a board meeting. That very same demeanor that made her into one hell of a lawyer.

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You say honestly, “Wonwoo’s respectful, but I’m sure at some point soon, he’s going to want to make the relationship official.” In a way that you and I do, You think bitterly, biting your tongue.

“Right,” Rosie nods, a tight smile forms on her face. “So this is it? I get engaged, fuck you right after, and you’re now ending things.”

You want to argue. You want to say something like how she agreed to date-date Wonwoo while actually being in a relationship with you. It might’ve been for appearances and to please her father, but you both know that what you were doing was wrong on so many levels.

“I guess. I love you, I want to be with you, but you’re engaged. It changes everything.” She knows things will change once this engagement goes public.

Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nodding before walking out of your room, out of your apartment.

Out of your life?

You hoped not, but you’ve never had any control of your life to begin with.

“Stop moping,” Jisoo hisses, forcing a smile when another executive walks by, briefly stopping to shake both of your hands.

“I don’t want to fucking be here,” You smile, nodding politely as you greet the wife of said executive.

You’ve been quietly arguing with Jisoo since you arrived. Thankfully you didn’t share a car together because that would’ve given you a headache.

Your sister knows what happened. She pounded on your door an hour after Rosie left because allegedly the woman you’re in love with called her, in tears and distraught, telling her how you ended things. There was one missing vital piece of information that wasn’t shared—something you had to tell your sister, softening as soon as the words fell out of your mouth.

“We have, like, ten more minutes of this before you can wallow away at the bar,” Jisoo nudges you with an elbow once your aunt and Jennie approach.

You give the two women a hug, commenting on their appearance because they are Kims after all. Everyone in your family looks good, and Jennie tells you so too.

“Wow, oppa,” Jennie gives you a gummy smile, straightening your bow tie after she hugs you. “You’re actually dressed up for once.”

“Not in the mood, Jen,” You say flatly. Jennie takes a second look, and her eyes narrow.

“What happened?”

“Not the time nor place,” You wave at a bunch of people you don’t recognize. All for show, their faces blurring together as they pass. “She didn’t tell you then.”

Jennie stares at you, waiting. When you remain stoic, she rolls her eyes, walking away to most likely find the woman in question.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Jisoo warns quietly, elbowing you in the side a little harder.

You don’t bother engaging with your sister anymore, just saying hello and answering any questions that people ask you as they walk by. It’s mechanical for you, something you’ve spent years perfecting on how to appear to people when you honestly couldn’t care about all this. You’d give it all up if that meant you could be with Rosie.

These past few days have been absolute hell for you. You’re pretty sure your body’s going through shock. You feel it in your chest anytime your mind so briefly thinks about her. You’ve dated before Rosie and heartbreak has never felt like this.

When you see the next family approaching, you automatically smile. Jisoo notices your face light up, which she scoffs because she isn’t exactly the biggest fan of who you’re smiling at.

“Hi Nayeon,” You ignore your sister, beaming as the eldest Im stands in front of you. She smiles, that same toothy one that you’ve teased her countlessly for over the years since it makes her look like a bunny.

“Hey,” Nayeon chuckles, shaking her head as she goes in for a hug. You do her one better and wrap your arms tightly around her waist, nearly lifting her feet off the ground. She lets out her boisterous laugh, hitting you on the shoulder. “Put me down!”

You’re laughing, actually giving a genuine smile, as you do what she says. You keep your arms loose around her. Anyone passing by would think you’re together, which you do hear them commenting on how close you are.

“If either of you want to make headlines this evening, please for the love of god, stop,” Jisoo mumbles, shaking her head as she greets Nayeon’s sister.

“We’re just having fun, Sooya,” Nayeon rolls her eyes, taking a step back before sending you a wink.

“Yeah well, the night’s going to get more interesting,” Jisoo tilts her head toward the entrance. “The Parks are here.”

You don’t want to look, but you can’t help yourself. Your gaze lands on Rosie. She looks absolutely stunning, wearing a strapless white gown that hugs her body perfectly, hourglass figure and all. It reminds you of a wedding dress, and something inside you breaks when you see Wonwoo right behind her.

“Wow, Chaeyoung looks gorgeous,” Nayeon comments. Her sister nods approvingly while you don’t miss the concerned look on your sister’s face.

You excuse yourself without waiting for any of the women around you. You beeline straight for the bar, needing something to ease the tightness in your chest. Hearing the crowd murmurs of Rosie and Wonwoo don’t help either. You even catch someone mentioning the ring, causing you to pick up the pace.

Lisa intercepts you when you’re a few feet away, “Hey,” Her hand wraps around your bicep, stopping your rendezvous with a bottle of scotch.

The brave face you put on at the beginning of the night cracks and she gives you a sympathetic smile. If there’s anyone Rosie would confide in, Lisa will be at the top of the list.

“Hi Lili.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lisa asks politely, gently guiding you towards the bar, the grip on your arm strong enough to keep you from running in the opposite direction.

“Not entirely,” You shrug, but not enough to shake her arm off.

Lisa doesn’t push, which is one of the many reasons you consider her a close friend. Aside from the fact she’s secretly dating your cousin, she’s someone you trust. Even though Lisa’s a foreigner, she blends in well with this crowd, and that’s saying a lot. Everyone’s aware she’s not Korean by any means, but she’s networked enough that she has a seat at the table. The relationship she has with all of you have helped too, something she acknowledges, but it’s all her.

Once you reach the bar, you pull out the chair for Lisa. You get teased a little for acting so gentlemanly since your relationship with her has always been platonic—for obvious reasons.

“You haven’t spoken to her.”

“Of course I haven’t,” You nod when the bartender brings over your glass of whiskey. You take it one go. The usual burn doesn’t faze you as it travels through your body.

“She misses you,” Lisa says casually behind a wine glass.

You scoff. Your temper flares because while it could be true, there hasn’t been any moment since you last saw Rosie that she let you know how she felt. You’ve laid it out to her that you’d give up everything if it meant you could be together, but she was scared.

“She wants to be with you.”

“Sure she does,” You answer sarcastically. “If she did, we’d be engaged. Probably married by now.”

“Come on, don’t be like this,” Lisa shakes her head, placing her empty wine glass on the counter.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before you could respond. You’re suddenly hyper aware of someone’s presence behind you, that you don’t need to turn around to see who it is.

“Hi,” You hear Rosie greet softly.

Lisa turns around first, standing to hug her best friend. You don’t make any moves to engage, at least not without signaling to the bartender for another drink. He’s in front of you, giving you a heavy pour before moving onto the next person. Without waiting, you take the drink in one go again, the liquid amber burning stronger than the first.

Slipping on the mask you had when you arrived, you turn to face the two women. “Chaeyoung,” You nod, acknowledging her for the first time this evening. It’s a low blow to call her by her Korean name because she’s reserved her English name just for you. “You look great,” You say with an easy smile.

There’s more you want to say, like how she’s beautiful and all that, but you don’t think that’d be appropriate given the time and place and circumstances.

“Thanks,” Rosie says quietly, the smile on her face hardly reaches her eyes. “Can we-”

“I’d love to stay and chat, but you know, duty calls,” You interrupt, scanning the room for anyone to pull you out of this conversation. Ironically, your gaze meets Nayeon across the crowd, waving you over. “My presence is needed,” You tilt your head in Nayeon’s direction. Rosie’s eyes narrow when she sees who’s exactly demanding your presence.

That’s a whole other story because you’re all aware of the crush Nayeon’s harbored for you over the years–something that peeved Rosie knowing that your mother’s approval of her if something were to happen.

But maybe it was time for you to move on.

“Have a great night, Chaeyoung,” You bow slightly before sidestepping around Lisa. “Congrats on the engagement, by the way. Wonwoo’s a lucky guy.”

You don’t bother waiting for her response, walking away before you could hear it.

Each step away feels heavier the farther you go. Every nerve in your body screams at you to turn back around.

You don’t.

You tend to sneak away in events like this. It’s a habit you developed as a teenager when high power executives and the like would talk to you about things you had no interest in.

That’s how you end up on the outdoor terrace. It’s empty aside from a couple members of the event staff taking a smoke break, but they don’t pay you any mind, too engrossed in their own conversations about the worst person they’ve interacted with so far. You know that they’ll be back to work in a few minutes.

You lean against the railing, letting the crisp cool air invade your lungs as you stare at the city skyline. It sobers you up just a bit, but you’ll admit you’re drunk—more than what your mother would deem appropriate at an event this big.

You have to thank Nayeon for your current state. She immediately knew something was off after you left Rosie and Lisa at the bar. She didn’t ask, but she offered to ditch once the speeches were over. You compromised, only wanting to stay for the foundation’s before Rosie’s father spoke. She understood without question. She didn’t prod as to why specifically before that speech.

The sound of heels coming to a halt behind you breaks you out of your thoughts. You sigh because there’s only one person that knows this habit of yours.

“What do you want?” You ask without turning around.

“Can we talk?” Rosie asks quietly that it forces you to turn around.

“Okay, go ahead,” You cross your arms, jaw clenching as you try to control the wave of emotions crashing through you as you stare at her.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, please,” She reaches for your arm, but her hand drops when she hears the quiet chatter from the staff a few feet away.

You relent, pushing yourself off the railing as she walks back inside. You have no choice but to follow her, and you’re on edge when she chooses to walk into a private bathroom.

Once the door shuts, you hold your breath, the tension between you much more obvious in an enclosed space. You feel suffocated by being this close to her when all you want to do is pull her against you.

“What do you want, Chaeng?” Your shoulders drop, the mental and emotional exhaustion catching up to you. You’re tired and just want to get as far away from this, from her, to think clearly.

“I…I don’t know,” Rosie looks away, leaning against the marbled counter as the door holds you up.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” You gesture to the space in between you. “If anyone sees us together, we’re both screwed.”

You watch her move, something brewing beneath as she keeps her eyes on you. She walks toward you, bringing her arm back. Your head tilts in question as her dress slowly slides down her body.

“Chaeng,” Your voice comes out low, hoarse as Rosie reveals what’s underneath–a white lace corset with the matching bottoms to go with. For how long you’ve been together, she knows your weaknesses, and if she had the garter belt, you would’ve taken her right there.

She planned this.

“What?” Rosie stands in front of you, keeping the smallest bit of space in between you that any movement, her body would be pressed against yours.

“You’re engaged,” A strong reminder more to you than her. Your hand twitches, but you keep it at your side, not wanting to give her the upper hand.

“I’ve told you time and time again, it’s not that simple,” Rosie leans forward, her breath ghosting over your lips. “What’re we supposed to do? Just leave everything behind?”

“Yes,” You shake your head, frustrated. It’s the same conversation you’ve been having with her since she started public dating Wonwoo and it’s still not sinking in that you’d make it work. “It’s not like we don’t have connections outside of our family to support ourselves.”

“You think too much,” Rosie rests her weight against you. Your cock stirs at the contact. “I love you, you know this. Is that not enough?”

“Chaeng,” You gulp when her hand slips in between your bodies, palming your cock over your slacks. You’re naturally conditioned to react to whatever Rosie does to you, big or small. She could tie her hair in a ponytail and you’d immediately get hard at the sight. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?” Rosie drops to her knees, her eyes demanding your attention.

You grit your teeth as she undoes your belt. Her hands deftly work to unbutton your pants, tugging them down as she pulls your cock out. “What’re you doing?” You groan, head falling back against the door, the sensation of her soft hands wrapping around your girth.

“Are you complaining?” Her tongue sticks out, licking the tip before she kisses the same spot. Her hands were doing wonders on you as all the blood in your body rushed south.

“You know I’m not,” You moan as she takes you fully into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks. You glance down, which is a mistake, to a filthy sight of your length halfway in her mouth.

“Then shut up,” Rosie takes a breath, pulling back slightly before repeating the motion. Her hands weren’t idle, stroking at a pace that spread her saliva along what wasn’t in her mouth.

You obediently listen, biting your lip to cover your moans as she goes lower with each movement.

You don’t know what came over her.

That’s a small lie. You could assume what spurred this. Besides your feeble attempt at ending things a few nights prior, Rosie seeing you interact–flirt–with Nayeon would be at the top of the list. It’s not like she would outright admit that she gets jealous because she’ll swear up and down she doesn’t, but you’ve been with her long enough to know how possessive she gets when it comes to you.

Your hand finds her hair, gently rubbing her scalp as she continues her ministrations. The moment you tighten your grip to increase her pace, she stops all movement. She lets off your cock with a resounding pop before standing up.

“We have to be quick,” Rosie mutters, standing to turn, and walks to the counter before stepping out of her thong. Your eyes never leave her form, watching her expression darken in the mirror. She bends slightly, shaking her ass in front of you.

You’re a simple guy. Naturally when a woman as gorgeous as Rosie offers herself up to you, you can’t exactly say no. You’ll deal with any ramifications later, but right now the only thought coursing through your body is to fuck her, and fuck her hard.

“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” You say, even though your hands grab her waist to steady you both. Her bare bottom presses against your very erect cock, the length in between her cheeks. You see how much precum leaks out of the tip as she tries to get you inside, missing completely.

“You’re clearly not stopping. We don’t have much time,” Rosie moans softly as your length rubs against her clit.

You shake your head, meeting her gaze in the mirror, a fiery look set in her eyes. You feel something weighing on your shoulders because you said you were done.

“Just fuck me,” Rosie demands and one of your hands drop, gripping your cock.

You tease a little, rubbing the head against her opening. She’s absolutely drenched that you slide right in.

Both of you moan, her eyes rolling back at being filled. You clench your jaw as she takes you in, the inner muscles tightening at the sudden intrusion. Once her bottom presses against your pelvis, you take a breath, needing it so you wouldn’t cum right away.

Based on how her pussy keeps contracting, it won’t take you very long.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Rosie hisses, and you pull your hips back before thrusting again. “I need your cock now.”

You set a quick pace, watching the sight of your cock disappearing in and out of Rosie’s body. You stifle your moans by resting your chin on her shoulder, biting down as she lets out a gasp with every movement. You realize she’s getting louder, the pitch getting higher. You did not need anyone walking in, especially since you didn’t lock the door.

Your free hand snakes around to cover her mouth, but Rosie surprises you when she pulls your hand to her throat, your fingers encircling her neck.

Rosie nods, giving you the green light, as your fingers gently squeeze. As soon as you do, her pussy tightens more and she pushes her hips into yours, meeting every thrust as the skin slaps. You knew her body well enough that she was close, especially the right angle to hit her sweet spot as she rolls down and along your length.

“I’m not going to last,” You whimper, panting against her ear.

“Inside,” Rosie gasps out, back arching as you lose your rhythm. Her orgasm triggers yours, causing you to thrust wildly, pounding, stretching, and the grip on her neck tightening. Her hand clamps on your forearm, loosening the hold as you paint her insides white.

You lose focus for a second, mind going blank as Rosie’s pussy rhythmically squeezes your cock, milking you for everything you have.

You didn’t know how long it had been. It could’ve been five minutes or five hours, but your cock softens as you slip out. You kiss the back of her head, as both of you catch your breath.

You don’t get the chance to see your cum flow out of her because her back straightens. Rosie turns, her chest against yours, arms resting loosely on your shoulder. Her fingers play with the hair on your neck while she stares up at you. She kisses you softly on the lips, smiling, before leaning against the counter. She keeps you close, spreading her legs that you slot perfectly in between as she gently pecks your cheeks and jaw.

It feels different to be with her like this.

You know what you’re doing is wrong on so many levels, but she’s your greatest weakness that you couldn’t resist her even if you tried.

“We should go back to the party,” Rosie mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip before letting out a sigh.

“Sure, whatever you want,” You honestly wanted to go back to your apartment and just cuddle, but you couldn’t exactly leave without drawing attention or questioning from your parents.

“Seriously, we should go,” Rosie makes no move to leave. Instead you feel her tongue in your mouth.

“Okay,” You nod against her mouth, which is also doing wonders, tempting you to go for another round.

Rosie pulls back, kissing you sweetly one last time. Her hand taps your shoulder, and you automatically step away, instantly missing her because you don’t know when, or if, this is going to happen again.

It’s a familiar sight as Rosie picks up her clothes from the floor. She fixes her hair, straightening the strands as best she could. You pulled your pants up, tucking your shirt in while she washed her hands.

“You should probably wait a few minutes after I leave,” Rosie says softly, wiping her hands before bringing her gaze to you in the reflection.

You agree, nodding, as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

No other words are said as you watch Rosie open the door, poking her head in the hallway as she checks if the coast is clear. Before walking out, she says, “I love you.”

One moment you’re chuckling at something Lisa says as she and Nayeon follow behind you. Nayeon invited Lisa on the way out as the speeches were commencing, which based on how it was looking with Jennie for the evening, Lisa made the decision to leave as well. She said she’d tell Jennie to meet after.

The next moment you hear someone in distress around the corner. Your pace slows when the women bump into you.

It takes you a split second before you realize that the person in distress is Rosie.

Wonwoo has Rosie pressed up against the wall, her leg straining against his as you notice his hand squirming to get in between her legs.

“Oh no, I’ll get security—Wait!” Nayeon gasps quietly behind you, but you hardly hear it because in the next moment, your feet move on their own accord and you swing your fist at Wonwoo, knuckles hitting square in the jaw and knocking his balance for him to get off of Rosie.

You think you hear Rosie scream, but you tune everything out because you’re pummeling him into the ground. You don’t care if you’re making a scene. There was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever let something like this slide with any woman, but the fact that it’s Rosie, the woman you’re in love with, all bets are off.

It isn’t until a few moments later, someone grabs you by your blazer, tearing you off Wonwoo, when everything equalizes. You hear Rosie crying behind you with Lisa trying her best to console her. Your hands ache as you open your fists, a searing pain along your knuckles. The grip on your blazer slackens before you realize it was Rosie’s father—Mr. Park himself—that pulled you off.

“What the fuck is happening here?” His voice comes out stern.

You notice the security guards tending to Wonwoo, whose face is covered by his hands, blood smeared all over his skin.

You’re going to be in deep shit from your parents, but you didn’t give a fuck. You would’ve killed him if no one stopped you.

“Mr. Park,” Nayeon interjects and you see a police officer next to her. Said police officer is her uncle—the police chief of Seoul. “We saw Wonwoo forcing himself on Chaeyoung. I went to grab security.”

A multitude of emotions cross Mr. Park’s face and you’ve never seen him angry before, but this would probably be the first time. It’s terrifying.

He doesn’t respond to what Nayeon says, walking over to where Wonwoo is. The Jeon heir looks up as Mr. Park says something to him none of you can hear when his eyes widen, desperately shaking his head, as he loudly apologizes.

“Oppa, let’s get you cleaned up,” Nayeon suggests, a loose hand wraps around your forearm.

You nod numbly, avoiding Rosie’s eyes as you walk by. Lisa’s still comforting her when Jennie and Jisoo rush over.

“Why are your hands covered in blood?!” Jennie freaks out, hand covering her mouth.

“Later, Jennie,” Nayeon pulls you away as a crowd starts to form, hiding you as best she could before anyone notices.

Nayeon leads you out of the building, forcing you to sit on a bench as she makes a phone call. She lets you know she’s calling her driver to take you home, but it doesn’t process as your blood’s still boiling over what you witnessed.

You have half the mind to go back inside and continue with your fists, but when you go to stand, Nayeon’s pushing you down. “No,” Nayeon says firmly, “Sit your ass down. You’re not going back in there.”

“But-” You try to speak for the first time since.

“Absolutely not.” Nayeon glares. “My uncle will take care of it. Leave the rest to them.”

“Fine,” You pout, rolling your eyes.

Nayeon keeps her gaze on you as she speaks with her driver. She ends the call, “Habin will be here in about ten minutes.” She sits next to you, crossing her legs as she stares at you curiously.

After a few seconds too long of feeling uncomfortable, you can’t take it anymore, grunting out, “Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Nayeon says, shrugging, but you can sense the curiosity getting to her.

“You’re staring.”

“Would you believe me if I told you you're hot?” There’s a teasing tone in her voice that has you rolling your eyes.

“No.”

“Well you are,” Nayeon chuckles, “But that’s not why I’m staring.”

“Stop beating around the bush, ask what you want.”

“How long have you and Chaeyoung been seeing each other?”

The question catches you off guard. Of all people, Nayeon was the last one you expected to pick up on your relationship. Jennie told you that Nayeon was sharp, having a good intuition about things, and you should’ve believed her.

You go straight into denial, “What? Rosie and me? That’s absurd.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue, a satisfied humming sound leaves her throat, “Rosie?”

Shit.

None of Seoul’s elite refers to Rosie as ‘Rosie.’ In business meetings with foreign companies, yes, but in a casual conversation like this, no.

You sigh dejectedly. There’s no point in denying it. Nayeon wouldn’t believe you either way.

“A little over three years,” You confess, head dropping into your hands.

“Assuming her parents didn’t know their youngest was already in a relationship before Wonwoo?” Nayeon asks, hitting it right on the money.

“They did not,” You confirm, nodding in your palms.

“Wouldn’t approve, eh?” She’s right again as you grunt, taking that as an affirmative. “Well, I hope things work out in the end. If this doesn’t prove to Mr. Park you care about his daughter, nearly killing someone, then he’s an idiot.”

You actually smile.

-- --

It’s Monday and you’re not in your office.

Your assistant, Mina, texted you early this morning that you were to report to the Park’s building for a meeting with the CEO—Rosie’s father. You tried to get out of it, calling her as soon as you read it, but she couldn’t do anything. Your father specifically, borderline demanded, requested that your morning be cleared for this.

You hadn’t spoken to your parents since the gala. They blew up your phone as soon as they realized you left and after finding out what happened, thanks to Jisoo tipping you off about the flurry of messages and calls coming your way. You turned your phone off the following day, taking a much needed break from everyone. You didn’t hear from Rosie, which you were glad because you couldn’t face her. You were ashamed of getting violent in front of her. She didn’t need to see that side of you, but you couldn’t help it because it was her that was in danger.

You don’t regret it one bit though. You’d do it again without hesitation.

So here you are, waiting awkwardly in the seat as Mr. Park’s secretary types away at the screen.

When you arrived, she didn’t say anything to you except to have a seat and Mr. Park will be with you shortly.

You have no idea if you’re in trouble. The police didn’t show up at your place the day after, so you could safely assume no one was pressing charges. You do want to know what he said to Wonwoo that had him begging for forgiveness.

You haven’t seen your parents either. You’re under the assumption at least one of them would be here, but Mina herself didn’t know when you asked.

The office door opens and when you look who it is, it’s your father, motioning you to come in.

You bow when you stand, walking inside the office to Mr. Park leaning against his desk. He gives you a gentle smile when he sees you.

You automatically notice Rosie sitting off to the side on one of the couches near the window. She averts her gaze when she meets yours, something deflating inside of you.

“Please,” The Park patriarch gestures to the seat in front of him. “Sit.” It’s not a demand, but there’s no question you won’t do what he says.

Your father takes the seat next to yours, clearing his throat, “Chaeyoung told us some things this morning.”

You brace yourself, not sure which direction this conversation was going to go. You and Rosie never discussed what you would tell your parents, so she could have literally said anything.

When you don’t respond, your father continues, “It’s been brought to our attention that you’ve been actually dating for the past three years. Is that right?”

You nod, waiting for the pin to drop.

It never does because Mr. Park says, “Thank you for protecting my daughter.”

Uh?

You laugh awkwardly, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck, “Yes, of course, sir.”

“No, you don’t understand. My daughter was engaged to him, and he’s disgusting,” You’ve never heard such contempt from someone. “If I actually announced their engagement while he tried something like that, it would look bad and my daughter would be stuck with a monster.”

“What he’s saying,” Your father can tell you’re confused, “Is that if you and Chaeyoung decide to be together, we approve. Your mother’s very proud of you for being quick to stop something bad from happening, though a little scared what would’ve happened if no one intervened, but regardless, it’s okay.”

Your shoulders feel so light after hearing those words come out of his mouth. You nod in understanding, doing your best to keep your composure.

“We’ll let you be. We have lunch to go over some things,” Your father says, a gentle hand squeezes your shoulder.

Mr. Park’s hand’s in your face, forcing you to shake it as you stand up, bowing graciously as they walk out of the room, leaving you alone with Rosie, who still hasn’t looked you in the eye since you walked in.

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Rosie,” You say softly, but she still doesn’t look up. She keeps her eyes focused on the floor. You roll your eyes, walking to stand in front of her, kneeling to be in her line of sight. “Chaeng.”

“I’m sorry,” Rosie’s lips quiver, tears visibly forming in her eyes. “I should’ve called you yesterday, but my mother and Alice took me out of the city. I was so shaken up.”

“Hey, hey,” You reach for her hands, kissing them softly to soothe her worries. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay right?” She nods solemnly. “Then don’t worry.”

“I should explain-” Your index finger presses against her lips.

“No need,” You brush off casually. You didn’t need to hear it. There’s a high chance you’d just get riled up having to hear about it.

“I was breaking up with him,” Rosie mumbles against your finger. “I started to walk away so I could tell my father when he, he-” Her voice cracks.

You move swiftly, wrapping your arms around her as you pull her into an embrace, gently soothing her arm as you kiss the top of her head, “Baby it’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”

“I love you,” Rosie cries into your chest, burying her face into you as her body shakes against yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Words aren’t needed. You hug Rosie tighter, silently promising to never let her go. You can’t change what happened, but you can control what happens next.

“I love you,” You whisper against her temple, kissing softly as she breaks down in your arms even more. “Is it a bad time to ask you out?”

Rosie shakes her head, giggling through the tears, “Like on an actual date?” She lifts her head, a watery smile painted on her face.

You nod, lips curling up as you wipe the tears away.

“Yes.”

-- --

You hang your arm loosely around Rosie’s shoulder, waiting for your driver to pick you up to take you home. She laughs at something Jennie says, but you’re hardly paying attention to their conversation.

Your mind is preoccupied on other things.

It’s Rosie’s birthday and Lisa rented out a club in Hongdae to celebrate.

It’s been a few months since that night. Rosie and you have had to learn how to navigate your relationship in the public eye. Aside from many gossip columns speculating about the sudden romance, there have been numerous business analysts forecasting a merger between the families.

Which your father has told you would happen if you were to propose to Rosie in the future.

Something that you want to do now, even though Rosie thinks it’s best to wait a year for the sake of appearances.

“Oppa,” Jennie whines as Lisa holds her up, the effects of alcohol hitting her and the woman next to you. “Let’s go to one more place! I’m hungry.”

“Go to McDonald’s,” You roll your eyes, irritated with your cousin.

You want to spend some time with Rosie, alone, because of the little stunts she’s been pulling throughout the night.

She’s been relentlessly teasing you, drifting her hand on your thigh, even brazenly palming you over your jeans underneath the table while the cake was brought out.

You did your best to keep a straight face through it all, but it was hard when she asked you to dance with her friends. You usually shied away from any public displays of affection besides holding hands, but you couldn’t resist her.

Especially with the way she was dancing on you.

“Baby,” Rosie pouts, looking up at you. “Can we go with them?”

“Chaeng,” Your jaw clenches, sending her a pointed look.

“Oi,” Lisa laughs. You see her shaking her head in your periphery.

“Please,” Rosie ignores her friend. She even makes her lip quiver, that you have no choice but to say fine. She claps her hands excitedly before giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you,” She murmurs against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s your birthday,” You clear your throat. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie leans back, raising an eyebrow.

You nod hesitantly. There’s a mirthful gleam in her eyes that whatever you had in mind, she has something else.

Rosie’s lips move slowly against yours, tongue dipping in and around your mouth that has every nerve firing. Your hands tighten on her hips, guiding her movements, even though you’ve been powerless since you arrived back at your place.

There’s too many things going on at once that have you blanking out. The only thing you can remotely focus on is the sensation of her slick over your cock.

It’s been torture watching, feeling, Rosie grind herself on you without letting you inside. You’re not sure what her end game is, but you’re dying for something other than this. It’s hot, no shit, but you’ve been on edge the whole night that you’re almost ninety-nine percent sure the moment her walls touch your length, you’ll bust.

“God,” Rosie moans against you, body shaking, and it’s orgasm number two for her without any relief for you.

“Baby, please,” You whine, hands gripping her waist as she starts moving again. You’re at the point of begging.

Rosie’s hands are on your chest, pushing herself up. You make the mistake of glancing down and your cock’s nestled in between her lips, covered in a light sheen from her orgasms, and there’s precum leaking from your tip.

“What’s wrong?” The teasing tone in her voice as you watch her swirl her hips in a circle has you hypnotized. Your cock brushes against her clit and you swear you feel her pulse.

“Why are you being a fucking tease?” You groan, head thrown back as she continues to rub herself along your length.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rosie murmurs, placing her hands on your abdomen.

After a few more minutes, your tip brushes against her opening. She lets out a surprised moan at the unexpected intrusion. Much to your dismay, she doesn’t take you in.

“Chaeng,” You inhale sharply. “Seriously, come on.”

Rosie hums, clicking her tongue as if an idea just came to her.

“What if I got pregnant?”

What?

“Like, can you imagine? My father would probably kill you,” Rosie says casually when you don’t respond, too stunned by her question. “You’re practically throbbing down there.”

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind. You’re definitely going to propose to Rosie when she thinks it’s the right time. You’ve talked about having kids, something you couldn’t care much for, but she’s thrown around the idea of it. If you wanted kids, you’d want her to be the mother.

Though, the process of having kids is what gets you the most.

Something Rosie knows absolutely gets you wild, nearly feral at the thought of filling her m as much as possible.

“Chaeng,” Your voice is low, hands stopping her movements. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck a baby in you?”

“I mean,” Rosie shrugs, casting her hair behind her back, “Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

“What fucking problem?” Your patience’s running thin as your hips involuntarily roll up.

“You know, the one where girls think you’re still single, even though all of Seoul should know you’re taken,” Rosie rolls her eyes, and her attitude is pissing you off.

Your mind replays every situation, every interaction you had tonight. Mostly everyone that was there was your friend. There were a few people you knew of, but didn’t engage with them as much since they were more Rosie’s friends than yours.

Nothing stands out, except for one.

A light bulb goes off in your head because Rosie doesn’t get jealous, per say.

Possessive is a better word to describe it.

While Rosie was off taking shots with her friends, you were idly sitting at the table, waiting for Jungkook and Minwoo when a girl you didn’t know walked up to you. You weren’t sure if she was Rosie’s friend, but when she introduced herself as Chaewon, you knew what she wanted and you were her target for the night.

You generally don’t entertain women when they come up to you, but Chaewon had disarmed you easily, charming you with a coy smile and flirty glances that you completely missed the daggers Rosie was sending her and you across the room.

The moment immediately passed as soon as Rosie plopped herself on your lap, crossing her legs in between yours, before kissing you heatedly that by the time she took her lips off you, Chaewon disappeared.

It paints a clearer picture why Rosie’s suddenly dangling pregnancy in your face. It’s more for her to claim you than anything.

“Is that what you want?” You sit up, wrapping your arms around her body. Kissing her softly before murmuring, “You want people to know who I belong to?”

“I’m sure people know,” Rosie whispers seductively, “But it wouldn’t hurt for them to know that I’m the one that you can’t keep your hands off.”

“Baby, I’m sure they know,” You smile against her lips.

“Well,” Rosie huffs, too distracted by the way you move your mouth over hers, tongue finding its way in between her lips. “I want them to know for sure.”

“Then let me fuck you baby,” Your hips roll up, brushing against her clit as she moans. She shakes her head, gently pushing you to lay back.

Rosie’s hand slips between your bodies, a light grip encircling your cock as she aims the tip to her opening. She gently slaps the head, catching her clit in the process, before settling at her entrance.

“Rosie,” You grit out, eyes locked on your cock in between her folds.

“Watch me,” Rosie positions herself, careful not to slide you in just yet, placing her hands to balance on your cock.

It’s something you’ll never tire of, no matter how many times you and Rosie have sex—and it’s a lot.

Her hips swivel, adjusting, as she slowly drops down, your cock disappearing in her body. You’re engulfed by her heat, her walls stretch to accommodate your size, and you see stars as your eyes roll back.

“Baby,” Rosie’s voice cracks, “Eyes on me.”

Your gaze falls back to your cock gone, completely sheathed by her that she uses her inner muscles to squeeze. You can’t help but thrust into her, jolting her body as her breasts bounce.

“Nope,” Rosie clicks her tongue, shaking her head in disappointment. “Hands here,” She places them in the divot where her legs meet her hips, hands over yours as she slowly rocks her hips.

“God,” She chokes out, “We fuck a lot, yet it’s always so much.”

You don’t have any words because you’re too blissed out by her movements. Any coherent thoughts are out the window because she’s right.

It is so much.

You’re lost in her that your eyes roll back once she moves up carefully, methodically, before dropping her hips over you, repeating the motion that has you gripping her thighs roughly.

“Imagine,” Rosie says lowly, looking at you through hooded eyes, “If you did get me pregnant. Just me carrying your child because you couldn’t help yourself. The media would be all over us.”

Her words trigger a memory of the first time you and Rosie had sex, deciding together to go without a condom because she was safe and she trusted you enough. You don’t think you’ve ever fucked anyone like you fucked her.

“Baby,” You can’t control the moan that falls from your lip after a hard drop. “Don’t.”

“What?” She stops her movement, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to? You’re the only guy I’ve ever let cum inside me.”

“Jesus fuck, Chaeng,” Your hands drop from her hips. “You’re a fucking—”

“Tease? Slut? Whore?” Rosie swivels her hips in a figure eight, cutting you off. “It doesn’t matter what anyone calls me. I’m yours.”

You have no control over your body as your hips move on its own accord, meeting every one of her gyrations with precision.

“Come on,” Rosie goads, bending forward to kiss you briefly on the lips, “You don’t want everyone to know that?”

Of course you do. People do know that Rosie’s yours, but the love bites and the like don’t compare to her being pregnant—the ultimate claim.

In a quick move, keeping your cock in between her legs, you reverse positions, and Rosie’s on her back.

“God yes,” Nails digging into your shoulders as you slide your length from her warmth before snapping forward.

You buck into Rosie, thrusting wildly as the need to breed her takes the forefront of your mind. The thought of her belly swollen has you nearly going feral.

You try to lean back, wanting to see your cock spearing through her walls, but her grip takes her with you. You watch as she rolls her body in waves, mesmerizing you as your cock moves in and out. Your hand splays over her stomach, and you could be imagining it, but you swear you feel your cock hitting her front walls.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Rosie taunts, eyes barely open with a dopey smile on her face.

You grunt, too engrossed as she leans back, one hand on your shoulder as the other rests over your hand. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, bouncing rapidly on your cock like she’s in heat. Your thumb sneaks down, slipping underneath her hood to rub her clit. Her eyes widen before a sudden pressure grips your length.

Rosie screams as her orgasm rips through her body, back arching as she pushes her chest forward, before convulsing, spasming all over you before you feel your cock getting forced out. A stream of clear liquid expels from her, drenching your crotch and thighs. You groan at her squirting because it’s happened before, but holy shit this feels more intense, more primal as you watch her eyes roll back at the pleasure consuming her body.

She lets go, body falling limp on the bed as you stare at the woman you love in complete awe. Her pussy’s soaked, hole pulsing as she swings her leg over you, rolling onto her stomach.

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, but you’re surprisingly still hard, that you can’t wait. You move her legs with ease, straightening one and slightly bending the other before settling between her legs.

“You didn’t cum?” Rosie asks, surprised, voice shaking as you aim your cock at her opening again.

“No,” You’re able to answer before sinking in, engulfed by her heat once more.

It won’t take you very long because you’re rutting into her like your life depending on it. Hips rolling after every thrust has your stomach tightening from your impending orgasm.

“You fuck me so well,” She moans uncontrollably, sobbing into the pillow as she continues to babble nonsense, hands balling into the bedsheets.

You’re hardly paying attention to what she’s saying as you watch her ass ripple with every thrust. Your hands grip her cheeks, spreading them wide to her puckered hole.

“Would you let me fuck your ass?” You ask, absentmindedly massaging the muscles. She doesn’t need to answer because her body does for her, her walls tightening at the question. “That’s a yes,” Chuckling as you save that for a later time.

Rosie mumbles something into the pillow that has you leaning forward, pressing your cheek against hers.

“What was that?” Hips never ceasing as they continue their onslaught, slamming in and out.

“Daddy please. Cum inside me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried.

The word had never been used before, but it sparked something dark in you. Your hips stutter, breaking your rhythm, after one, two, three thrusts you explode inside of her, painting her inner walls that trigger another orgasm from the woman wrapped around your cock.

“God—shit, fuck,” You lazily thrust inside her one more time before groaning against her hair.

Your cock twitches as her velvet walls keep contracting, draining you for all that you have, making sure you don’t leave her empty.

You move her hair to the side, exposing her neck and back, placing soft, tender kisses—a stark contrast to what you were just doing to her—all over her skin. You don’t want to pull out, too comfortable with her snug warm walls, and you’re almost certain she wouldn’t care if you stayed inside her, too cock drunk to even notice.

Rosie lets out a pathetic whine as you regretfully pull out. Your cock’s covered in your shared fluids as her you take a good look at the mess you made. You notice a dribble of cum ooze out of her lower lips, and just to fuck with her more since you’re a little shit, you use your finger to push it back in.

“Hey,” Rosie moans softly as you deftly massage her walls, spreading the load. “Too much.”

You nod, removing your finger, but not without brushing over her clit. She weakly slaps you away as you chuckle, dropping your weight next to her. She immediately turns to face you, pulling you into her and throwing a leg lazily over yours.

You bask in the moment, letting the endorphins release as you listen to Rosie sigh contentedly.

“You’re not serious about getting pregnant, right?” You ask, slightly nervous as the post-orgasm clarity hits.

Rosie giggles, shaking her head as she looks at you, “You really think I’d go off birth control without talking to you?”

Smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. It just caught me off guard.”

“Sorry, just felt extra attentive for you tonight since it was my birthday,” Rosie kisses your jaw.

“Do you mean jealous?” You quip, which earns you a light slap on the chest.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I don’t get jealous,” Rosie pouts all cutely that you chuckle.

“I can’t help that I’m such a hot commodity,” Another slap.

“Yeah well you’ve been off the market for almost four years, you think I’m going to really let some girl get to me?”

“I’ve had to go on dates with people my parents set me up with. How do you know I didn’t sleep with them?” You tease, earning a pinch this time.

“Because you literally came over after every single one,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “I’d remind you that there wouldn’t be anyone else, don’t you remember?”

The few dates your parents forced you to go on resulted in some of the hottest sex you’ve had with Rosie. You remember vividly the things she did so you never had to think twice about being with another woman.

It’s making you hard again at the memory.

“I feel you twitching,” Rosie smirks, shaking her head. “Let’s sleep first, okay?”

“Fine,” You pout. Though, you have one more question. “One last thing?”

Rosie hums, snuggling into the crook of your neck.

“Marry me?”

Rosie pulls back, gaze meeting yours, searching your face for an answer she only knows. “You’re serious this time.”

“I’m serious every time I ask,” You scoff.

“No, but this is different,” Rosie sits up. “Do you have a ring?”

“In my sock drawer, all the way in the back,” You answer simply.

You watch her slide out of bed, walking to the dresser. She slips on one of your old university shirts from when you studied abroad before digging through the mentioned drawer. She pulls the small velvet box out before joining you on the bed.

“How long have you had this?” She asks softly, staring at the box.

“Honestly?” Rosie nods. “Two years. Lisa’s the only one that knows. Jennie might, but if she does, she’s never said anything.”

“You were that sure about us?” Her voice trembles as she looks at you.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what was going to happen back then, but all you did know was that you wanted to be with Rosie. You would’ve given everything up right then and there if your parents didn’t approve.

You still would.

“You’re a big softie, you know that?” Rosie smiles.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone. I have an image to uphold.”

The small box is placed in your hands, and Rosie gives you an encouraging smile.

“You sure? Didn’t you want to wait a year?”

Rosie shrugs, “It was advised by Alice, mainly because it was already a big deal that two rivaling companies’ kids were dating that she suggested waiting was the best for the news outlets to cool down. But at this rate, I don’t think I could wait.”

You open the box, the diamond shining brightly in the low lit room.

It’s a fond memory of how you picked this ring, mainly because of the woman you took with you. She dragged you to five different places, even suggesting flying to Paris since she had connections there. You argued that leaving to Europe would raise suspicion to Rosie. Lisa pointed out some ostentatious design with diamonds around the band would be the best, which the jeweler agreed—most likely wanting to get a bigger commission. You shook your head, opting for a simple solitaire, a three-carat diamond that still had a hefty price tag.

You take a deep breath, smiling at the woman in your bed, unshed tears in her eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes,” Rosie cries, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a heated kiss.

You drop the box, uncaring about where it goes. Your hands find themselves on her hips, lifting your fiancée onto your lap. Neither of you are clothed from the waist down, and you’re surprised with how wet she is.

“Already?” You murmur against her lips.

“Shut up,” Rosie breaks the kiss, embarrassed as she buries her face into your neck. “Can’t help it,” She sucks lightly, marking your skin.

“What about sleep?” You moan, rocking her body along your hardening cock.

“Later,” Rosie mumbles, “I’m engaged. Let me celebrate, daddy.”

You groan at the new nickname, earning a giggle.

“Who knew you had a daddy kink,” Rosie teases, kissing you on the lips again. “I probably have a praise kink.”

“Be a good girl for me then,” You say, easily slipping into character.

“It’s not hard to be,” Rosie trails her lips along your jaw, peppering kisses as she slyly slides her hand in between your bodies. “Especially with a cock like this,” She sighs as she slowly strokes your stiffness.

“I love you,” You tilt your head back as she moves herself lower, eager for whatever she has in store.

“I know, I love you too, my fiancé.”

-- -- --

#blackpink smut #blackpink rose #blackpink park chaeyoung #rosie smut #park chaeyoung smut #park chaeyoung

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buttercupblu · 2 months

Text

God is Fair|The Lore

Devotional Love with Suguru x Reader|Two-Shot

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

the deets: ever since you were young, you knew you were meant for each other. he came into your life like a storm and grew closer no matter how distant you seemed. he swelled and captured your heart every time he was near. so why did you keep fighting him? w.c: 12.7k (holy f*ck) out of idk yet for part-two the rest (god bless) tags: fem!reader, mostly angsty….pretty much 90% angst for part 1, repressed feelings, jealousy, lingering lips and fingers, a little bit of self-depreciation at the end but pick that crown up love, reader gets a little violent at the end 😳|if i missed anything, pls comment or DM ☺️ angel’s note: this story started as one thing and ended up as another—so goes the way of life. PSA: most of the good, filthy, mack-nasty shyt is in part 2/3, but you’ve gotta wade through the fire first to get it. It’s always worth it|thanks for reading 🖤 earworm 🐛: Chihiro|Billie Eilish

Over time, you became perfectly molded to him.

As did his lips to your tender bud that sank under his sinful tongue.

Slender fingers grip and drown under his raven locks, barely saving you from the shallow breaths you must take to stay alive.

You’re just above water, and he steals your air, spelling poetry with his tongue over your folding petals.

Broken coos spill from your puffy lips—his favorite melody to ever grace his ears.

Whether it was today, tomorrow, yesterday, or forever—you fall—in and in and even deeper into his grasp. Under the waves and trapped in his ocean—he gently pulls you under—your lungs yearning for air, but you never want out.

And the way he dives in, drowning to taste every drop, every sweet, delectable sip of your nectar like he could live the rest of his life without oxygen—tells you that he doesn’t either.

You learned to love each other’s oceans and came to mix seas. Both treaded rough waters but learned to float with calm bodies.

Now you lie hand in hand, limbs weaved like vines through each other’s arms, as you cuddle. Completely spent from another night in each other’s depths. Grateful. Grateful for his love—his patience.

And wondering how on Earth you thought it’d be possible to exist without someone you swore you despised.

Suguru has always been the best—the best at being good, the best at being kind, the best at being quiet—the best at being better than you.

When you were eight years old, he made his quiet introduction into your quaint little neighborhood, arriving in a flashy Mercedes-Benz followed by two moving trucks that pulled right into the driveway directly across the street from your humble home. Heels painted with red bottoms adorning stocking-covered legs were the first things you saw as you watched from your bedroom window.

The sound of movers drew your attention. No one ever came to your city, let alone your cul-de-sac. You felt a shift. A change was coming.

A tall woman, her long, sleek ponytail blowing in the wind, stepped out of the driver’s seat wearing large couture shades that took up most of her face. The overhanging forecast made everything bleak and gray, but the sunglasses stayed. A man exited the passenger seat and came to the woman’s side. He gingerly took her hand and looked around with a small smile, gently rubbing her arm. She slightly grimaced and handed him what looked like one of those small, overpriced designer bags.

They looked so…out of place.

They had to smell like money.

What the heck were they doing here?

In a city like yours, one of those places where everyone knows everyone and everybody's business, you instantly knew that this couple would be the talk of the town. At least with the adults.

You blew air into your bangs. You weren’t expecting new neighbors, but they could have at least come with a kid—someone who might actually want you around.

“Hey, Bug,” your dad called from the garden.

He always left the back door open so he could hear you in case you needed him. He must have heard the rumbling of their heavy trucks now being unloaded with elegant furniture. Would all of that even fit in there? Their house was bigger than yours but not by much. “Sounds like we’ve got new neighbors. Might go by later and say hi if you want to come.”

“No thanks.”

You turned back to the window, resting your head on your arms. Meeting Mr. and Mrs. Richy Rich didn't sound very appealing to you and might only make you feel worse on this already gloomy Spring day.

For once, you wanted to be pleasantly surprised and not just surprised with something you wouldn’t expect, like hitting the jackpot or whatever.

And then you saw him.

Inky black hair drawn into a short ponytail, emerging from the back seat of the fancy car and clutching a book thicker than his torso. His starched white-collar shirt and beige shorts reminded you of school. He kept his chin tucked and looked like the wind just might knock him over if the book wasn’t keeping him upright.

He and the woman were near twins. Definitely mother and son. She smoothed her hands down her skirt and put on a genuine smile for him. The man draped his arm around the boy’s shoulders as he took in the neighborhood. Slow and sheepish. You thought his eyes caught yours when he looked behind him and you ducked under the window sill.

Sh—

“You can’t stay cooped up in here all the time, Bug,” your dad called again. It sounded like he might be wrapping up. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

You inched back up to the window and peered over the edge. The boy looked like he was just as lost as to why he was there.

Anxious. Reserved. Kind of boring.

Not your speed.

You blew a raspberry and turned away. So much for that. You wouldn’t be missing much.

In your neighborhood, all the kids walked freely to each other’s houses to see if anyone was home. This was before everyone had cell phones to save time and figure it out for them.

You watched it happen with the other kids all the time. They’d visit each other and either stay inside (super rare) or gather the rest of the neighborhood to play in the cul-de-sac or park.

But you were never quite given a direct invitation.

The few friends you were close with moved away about a year ago, and the thought of making new ones who would eventually do the same kept you emotionally at arm's length. To make it worse, you swore the group you were left with undoubtedly hated you.

Why?

Because you had a history of sucking.

Everyone else in the neighborhood was naturally good at something. Anything. Everything.

But you?

You had to try.

Mess up. And try again. At almost anything you could name.

Basketball? Trash.

Tag? You were slow.

Football? Pssssh. As if—like you’d let yourself get hurt? You sat out every time.

So, the kids stopped inviting you or always picked you last. Both were grimy slaps in the face. Because you always knew you could be better. Delulu was the solulu if they’d only give you a chance. Or two. Or a few. But damn, you were trying.

At least you weren’t the only one being left out.

It’d been weeks since you saw the new kid on the block—not like you thought about him much after you dismissed him. But slowly, as the sounds of Spring beckoned him outside, he reminded you that the new “rich” neighbors did indeed have a kid.

It started with the curtains in his living room window gently ruffling before he’d peek out, scanning the scene for signs of life. Then eventually upgraded to gracing the neighborhood with his presence to sit outside. For hours, he watched from his front porch as the neighborhood kids dashed past your houses to play in the cul-de-sac.

It kind of made you jealous—the amount of space and freedom on their porch that his parents clearly weren’t taking advantage of. Only two plastic chairs and a small table occupied the space, and they weren’t nearly as lovely as the things you saw go into the home on move-in day. If it were up to you, you’d string up one of those hammocks big enough for two like you’d seen on TV and just float in the breeze under the overhang. It had been a frequent daydream of yours long before they moved in.

Instead, a gawking boy with too much time on his hands made it his home. Watching. Fiddling with his fingers and leaning on the rail. Watching. Always seeming too afraid to approach.

He had what you thought was the best house in the neighborhood (and probably the most money), and still, he looked so lonely.

With the background he seemed to come from, you thought he’d be more ballsy.

One day, you were, and you walked right up there, took the hand of the wide-eyed kid, and led him to the rest of the kids down at the park. His dad watched the whole thing go down from the kitchen window as he did the dishes, silently laughing as the boy stumbled behind you without saying a word.

This was your chance. You were so tired of the other kids being better than you. With him being the new kid, you thought he’d at least be somewhat on your level or maybe even a bit worse. Anything was better than being the odd one out.

You and the boy just a few inches shorter than you crashed the party right before the next game started. You beamed at the group like you had caught a prized fish.

“Guys, this is um…um…” Then you realize you hadn’t asked his name. And he was still holding your hand.

You dropped it and nudged him. “Suguru,” he said softly, seeming to avoid eye contact.

Suguru hadn’t seen that many kids in a group like this outside of school. He didn’t mean to look so anxious, but he wasn’t used to being in a neighborhood full of kids his age. He instantly felt like an outsider seeing how comfortable everyone was with each other, apart from you by his side. While soft smiles offered him a glimmer of acceptance, the stares made him self-conscious. He wondered if he could ever fit in.

You repeated his name in case no one heard him. Suguru. It naturally rolled off your tongue. Soft and sweet. Like the boy. He fidgeted with his fingers, but hearing his name felt reassuring. You looked at him and grinned. It was time to see what he’s got.

Tee-ball was the game. One you hated the most. Running was not your sport, and you certainly didn’t have an arm, so it never hurt your feelings too much when you weren’t picked for teams. But you made sure Suguru was. You wanted to see him in action.

Last summer, you guys found an old traffic cone to use as the tee and placed sticks around the field for bases.

You didn’t expect much from Suguru when it was time to bat because…look at him. He was so small and timid. The bat borrowed from someone’s dad was almost the same size as him, and you swore you saw his feet lift a few times during his practice swings. Too much of that and he’d be airborne. You prepared to give him a “job well done” pat on the back once he hit the ball a few feet.

Suguru squared up at the tee—on his way to join you at the bottom of the barrel.

And wouldn’t you know it?

He knocked the ball clear out of the park and didn’t even skim the cone.

Your mouth fell open before you remembered you were the designated retriever since you weren’t playing the game. You grumbled the whole walk and search for it.

And then he did it again. And again. And again.

And surprise, surprise, he excelled at every game he played after. Everyone wanted Suguru on their team.

You gaped at the feat—so much power, strength, and coordination in such an unassuming body.

And instantly hated him.

Not because he was the best or braggy about it.

It was the complete opposite.

He barely seemed to acknowledge it—not in an arrogant, dismissive way, but more like he was just happy to be involved and doing something. He was sheepish with compliments and even seemed nervous to receive them. He’d rub his head and give a little close-eyed smile before returning to the game.

And peer over to you on the sidelines for approval.

Every swing, every hit, and every game after, his purple eyes would find yours whenever he thought he’d done something worthwhile.

You tried to hide the jealous scowl, returning his shy smile with a nod and told him to keep his head in the game.

But he noticed.

He saw it. He knew you were unhappy, and he wanted nothing more than to help.

So after that, you kind of mirrored each other.

The kids always saw you as a try-hard—constantly on repeat, trying to make yourself valid and stand out. You’d grab failure by the throat and wring its neck, determined to make it forget your name. Not because you were attention-seeking; you only wanted to be counted in.

And so the student became the teacher. Suguru began to slip you little nods as if saying he saw you—just like you saw him all those times on his front porch. It’d annoy you at first, what you thought could’ve been pity, but it felt nice to finally be acknowledged by someone.

And so gradually, you looked to him as a spectator, earning silent yeses and nos until you finally worked up the courage to do what you were afraid of most. Ask him to be a friend.

To help you perfect your skills, of course.

But the friendship blossomed like the Spring, and you and Suguru actually grew really close—instantly drawn to each other. Pop-ups to his house were the norm as you had the most advantage out of everyone in the neighborhood by living right across from him. And you both were always brought up by one another’s parents.

Turns out Suguru’s dad was a lot like yours and they got on really well. They’re both funny, kind. But your dad’s a little bit different. He’s got rebellion in his bones, as he often talked about when he told you stories about his youth and take-no-shit hippie days.

“I’m serious, Bug. So, there we were, strapped to the tree. Shackled, really.”

He mimicked the story with his arms in between laughs.

“So, so we’re all chained up, right? And this bulldozer is coming right at our heads, ya? I look over to Stanley,” your even crazier God-father who showered you with gifts every time he visited, “I say, ‘Stanley, toughen up. You look like you’re about to piss yourself.’ And he goes, ‘I’m not scared. I forgot to go before we locked ourselves in.’”

Your dad roared with laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes like he hadn’t told that story a million times. Like he was going around trying to collect little activists. But Suguru almost fell over, leaning into his every word. He was such a shy laugher, always creasing his eyes and dimpling his cheeks when he did. It made your dad feel like the funniest guy alive when Suguru entertained his jokes.

“You were so brave,” and Suguru called your dad by his nickname just like your dad told him to. “I want to be that brave when I’m older.”

Your dad winked at you—you stuck out your tongue. Suguru was a good kid, he thought and reminded him a bit of himself.

Those days, your dad was mostly the same. He didn’t need much and chose to live a quaint and peaceful life. He’d talk your ear off about activism, travel, and stories about your mom who passed when you were born. You never got to “meet” her, but you always felt like you knew exactly who she was. And she was totally different from Suguru’s mom, who you learned was a hard-working corporate baddie. Red bottom heels. Makes sense.

By the end of that first summer, your families were practically joined at the hip. You and Suguru even more so. Outside of house calls and playing games with the rest of the neighborhood, the two of you also made frequent trips to the makeshift pier. Almost everything in your neighborhood and the surrounding area was walkable, including a small, wobbly, probably dangerous dock that sat over the small lake in town. You’d play a little alphabet game you made up on the walk down and constantly challenge him. Only for him to literally beat you at your own game nine times out of ten.

“Angels shop at—” You skipped down the dirt path.

“Blessed boutiques,” Suguru finished, “Beautiful coats—”

“Can clothe their wings. Dashing dolls—”

“Eat every sweet. Forks will find—”

“Giant…giant,” you thought and thought and thought, “Giant—”

“Geese!”’ Suguru tagged you and ran down the dock, deeming you the loser of that round. You strolled down to meet him near the water reflecting the sunset. A pout took up your face. He patted the deck, motioning for you to sit. “You’re gonna miss the fireflies.”

Watching them pop up one by one and glow on the water as the sun went down became a ritual. And one of your favorite memories of summer.

The following school year, you were even more inseparable. And when the end of fifth grade rolled around the year after, you knew it was fate when you found out you’d be attending the same middle school.

You were overjoyed. So was Suguru, but for different reasons. To you, now it was on.

Academics was an area where you had a fair shot at flourishing. You were studious, attentive, and almost the perfect student. And while you didn’t have bad grades, you always felt like you could be better. And you know why. Because everything came naturally to Suguru, of course.

Thank goodness for extracurriculars, though. The two of you didn’t need to do everything together, and you both benefited from the time and separation to do your own thing and discover your own interests. The Newspaper club caught your eye and was more interesting than you thought it would be—the first hobby to make you fall in love with words.

Suguru took an interest in robotics and, surprisingly, Yearbook. He was pretty crafty with a camera and made sure to snap the best photos of you during your events.

But the two of you rarely spoke of school or after-school activities. You never wanted him to know if you were struggling or needed help with anything and tried not to rely on him so much those days, so everything with you was always good.

It had to be.

He was still the competition, after all.

And you had to appear just as flawless.

Instead, you enjoyed late-night phone calls that went way past both of your bedtimes as you grew into middle schoolers. Pretending to be asleep and slipping the phone under your pillow without moving a muscle when your parents checked in was a sport, but it couldn’t be helped. The books you were reading, shows you were watching, and thoughts on what high school would be like were too good not to talk about into the late-night hours—even when your eyelids got too tired to stay open. Falling asleep with your cellphones in hand or occupying a space on your pillows was the norm.

“What’d ya think about the movie?”

“I mean, the book is always better, right? But like,” you sighed happily into the phone, “they made their lives look so…amazing.”

The two of you watched The Great Gatsby 1979 version on DVD at Suguru’s house right after school that day before you had to scurry off to help your dad in the garden. Suguru finished the book a few days ago, and after catching him with it during lunch and poking him enough to get him to spill some of the details, you were sold.

A glamorous romance about a life of luxury and passion?

Say less.

And because you couldn’t resist, you told him you’d finish it in less time than he did.

Suguru thought the movie was pretty true to the book, but man, what a sad story. You, however, were in love with the lifestyle.

“What about Daisy?” he asked.

You pondered Daisy’s decision for half a second before deciding she was a one-off. All her life she had been spoiled, something you were a total stranger to but didn’t make a point to say—only dismissed her frivolous ways and called her a coward. “Just the money and parties would be enough for me,” you said in a daydream. “It’d be too happy to be that shallow.”

Suguru laughed and said that wasn’t the point of the book. “Money can't always buy happiness. She could’ve had love. It was right there.” He sounded so sophisticated when he said it, much too wise and sappy for a 13-year-old.

You sucked your teeth. “That’s easy for you to say.” And you reminded him that he has a nicer house, clothes, car. “And when are y’all getting the Benz back?”

Lately, you and Suguru had been getting picked up by his dad in a major downgrade of a car. It’d been at least two months, and you were missing the feel of luxury against your skin.

The phone went quiet for a second, and Suguru scratched his head. “Uh, we actually don’t have it anymore.”

Your eyes widened as if he'd just told you someone died. Borderline devastation set in like it was your family losing one of its greatest displays of wealth. But Suguru didn’t sound the least bit sad when he told you that his dad referred to the “new car” as a “cash car” because they needed something quick.

And then it clicked, and you realized why you’d been noticing that furniture and things had also been disappearing in his house when you came over. And why he had to switch to the free lunch program you were also on at school. And why his dad mentioned looking for a second job the other day.

Suguru’s family had been hit by the recession.

And that’s how he became your neighbor.

Most of everything Suguru grew up with in his previous family home was placed in storage when they first moved into your neighborhood. His mom thought their stay would be temporary; she had been demoted at work but didn’t think it was a big deal, and things would quickly be back to normal—maybe even come with a promotion if she worked hard enough.

But it wasn’t her skills that was the problem. The economy was in shambles, and her company was running out of money. After two years of hoping for a miracle, she and over 40% of her company were laid off.

They kept all of this from Suguru until only a few weeks ago. He was much too young to understand what it all meant when it first happened—he was just a kid. But now, he was older, smarter, way less naïve. They couldn’t keep lying to him about why the car was away at the shop or why the family heirloom dining table went missing, among other things.

When they told him that he’d have to slow down on his growing book collection and only get one gift for his birthday that year, that’s when he started asking questions—not that either of those things meant much to him. He was more than happy to frequent the school library, and you noticed that he’d been spending a lot more time there than usual during breaks.

What bothered Suguru the most was the looks his parents gave him when they told him everything. Like they were delivering the worst news in the world. Like they were so worried that they’d be disappointing him. Like they should be ashamed.

It hurt him more to know that they felt like they had failed him.

“My dad just looks so tired all of the time now.”

Mr. Geto, who had been a stay-at-home work-from-home employee since before Suguru was born, had to get a part-time job working overnight to help bridge the widening gap between their old and new lifestyle.

Now, Suguru doesn’t get to see him as much except to make breakfast and kiss Suguru goodbye with a sluggish smile on his face before school.

He really missed his dad. And it made you feel like shit for momentarily being a Daisy.

For the rest of the night, you just listened to Suguru tell stories about back home—what his parents were like, the things they used to do, the trips they would take, and the time they spent together. Little memories from a place you’ve never been but could clearly see as he talked through the night.

Never once did Suguru mention missing the things he used to have or wanted now. The people in his life were what he cared about most.

“My dad got a new antenna for the TV to surprise my mom with so she can still watch her favorite channels from back home,” he laughed. “It’s so big. I hadn’t seen one before, so it was kinda funny to look at, but I’m glad it’ll make her happy.”

You solemnly smiled and propped up on your arm. “Do you ever miss home? Like being back there?”

He mentioned that he thought about it sometimes: the plush green grass in his front and backyard that he’d lay in for hours, the much sunnier skies compared to the frequently gray and cloudy ones, and humid air here in your rainy city, the few friends and family members he had to leave behind.

But he liked it here better and surprised the hell out of you by saying so.

Anywhere was better than being here.

Even though his family was going through a hard time, they still managed to get the nicest house in the neighborhood. You could only imagine what his childhood home looked like compared to the one bedroom and living room your dad made into his own space.

You asked why. What could possibly make this place any better than where he came from?

You could hear him shrug through the phone as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just something about this place.”

You still think about that conversation sometimes.

The end of middle school came in a blaze, and so did puberty.

Suddenly, you became aware that it was time to start caring about what you looked like.

Some nights, you would call it early with Suguru in favor of spending hours on YouTube watching videos and learning how to wear makeup. You put more thought into how you dressed and tried your best to style the little clothes you had into mostly decent outfits.

Every morning, you’d beam when you entered the kitchen to grab breakfast and say goodbye to your dad. He’d try his best not to cry, watching his little Bug grow up before his eyes.

Suguru did some growing, too.

The summer of 7th grade, he got a little taller, and when your final year started, you guys were finally neck and neck. He was beginning to be able to see the top of your head when he lifted his chin, and he would make little jokes about it in his prepubescent boy voice that was starting to crack. You’d push the too-big glasses that he got at the start of middle school up the bridge of his nose and tell him not to get too cocky. This was the tallest he would get, you’d tease. He may have been good at everything, but he’d always be a pip-squeak.

When you weren’t going back and forth with Suguru, you were hanging out with the new gal pals you made at school. Your little trio started spending more time together, window shopping at the mall, attending football games after school, and talking each other’s ears off about anything in between throughout your last year. You couldn’t tell Suguru everything, of course—there are some things that guys will simply never be able to relate to or understand.

And one day, while the three of you sat at lunch together while Suguru was off with his robotics team, one of your gals leaned over the cafeteria table to poke you with a devious smile and ask the age-old question: who do you like in school?

Your brain had the audacity to picture Suguru first.

Your friends squealed watching your face blush beet red, but you turned away and never answered the question—only said that you were more focused on school and extracurriculars to help you in college more than anything else.

But where the hell did that come from?

Suguru was, debatably, your best friend, but that was it.

Not that you needed to convince anyone else of that. Just…yourself?

Before that day, you never really thought of Suguru in that light. He was this quiet, nerdy, prodigy of a boy who was great at everything and gave you another reason to want to be just as good. You secretly looked up to him, if you wanted to call it that, but you certainly didn’t like him.

He was just the boy next door.

The boy next door who was challenging you once again: to push the little hints of affection that had been blossoming aside and dismiss them.

Bury them down, keep your eyes on the prize, and finally be rewarded for your efforts.

To keep up with him, not fall in love with him.

On a rare sunny Saturday, a month and a half before school let out for the summer, the two of you sat on his beloved front porch with the future on your minds.

Suguru picked at the grass growing between the wooden boards. “Thinking about trying something new next year?”

You popped another sugary blackberry from your backyard into your mouth while stretched out on Suguru’s favorite quilt. He couldn’t help but notice how relaxed you looked, drinking up the warm sunbeams on your skin.

“I don’t know,” your arms folded behind your head as you stared at the ceiling, “I love Newspaper, but…I don’t know. I think I wanna branch out.”

You just weren’t sure how yet. You had done some research on the high school you’d both be attending next year and ran down the list looking for something to jump out at you. Something you could really put yourself into. You still loved writing and expressing yourself, but there was nothing else besides repeating Newspaper or trying Yearbook (Sugu’s territory). The rest of your options weren’t ideal, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“How about volleyball?”

“Nah.”

“Art club?”

“Mmm-mm.”

He leaned against the wooden railing. “Hmmm, choir?”

You laughed and didn’t even bother to respond to what was clearly a joke.

He sighed and pensively licked the sugar from his fingers before asking if maybe you’d want to do something together.

You looked at him and squinted. “What?” he shrugged.

“You know what.” And he shook his head all innocent-like.

Always innocent that Suguru. Effortlessly wrapping everyone around his finger. Your dad, his teachers. Even your trio mentioned him from time to time about how helpful he was. With all the times he went out of his way to make sure you were okay, even you were starting to let your guard down. Watching him now as his ponytail blew softly in the wind, looking so naïve as to what you meant but still wanting to understand, made you blush sick.

Not having much of a reason to actually be so guarded, you made one up. “You tryna go toe to toe with me, Geto?.”

Your brow cocked, and you used his last name because you knew it’d get to him. He was fully aware that you only say it when you’re serious, and it’s mostly blurted when you guys go at it on Mario Kart.

“Just because I said we should do something together?”

“Yeah, so you can one-up me.”

If there was a hobby or favorite pastime that you really enjoyed and might actually be better than good at, you knew it was best to keep it out of Suguru’s reach. Academic and recreational competitions needed to remain separate if you wanted to keep your sanity.

Suguru took a breath. If there was one thing he didn’t bother competing with you at, it was arguing. He knew you wouldn't back down if he just sat here and tried to convince you; you’d poke a hole in every counter until he simply gave up.

So, instead, he pandered to your inflated ego, chewing his lip before telling the truth. “C’mon, Twin. I promise I won’t. Do it for me.”

His soft purple gaze landed on you, and you got a funny feeling in your stomach that you hadn’t felt before.

He was serious.

He really wanted to be at your side trying something new—exploring together—helping each other find yourselves.

The shy teen who was as quiet as a mouse and yet a beast of a kid wanted to be right there with you. And he wasn’t afraid to say it.

You cleared your throat and averted his gaze. “Fine,” you agreed, but on one condition, “It stays a hobby, no competing.” And it sounded like you were talking to yourself more than him. “But valedictorian? That’s mine.” And you tossed another blackberry into the air and caught it perfectly in your mouth, making Suguru raise his eyebrows.

“That’s a bet,” he said, reaching over to wipe a bit of sugar from the corner of your lips. You swat away his hand and punch his shoulder, but damn him if the gesture didn’t make you feel all weird inside. He faked an “Ow” and rubbed his arm before joining you on the quilt to soak in the sun. You closed your eyes and pretended to float in the breeze whistling through the railing. Even without the hammock, it kind of felt like you were.

“Sooo, what do you wanna do this summer?” And the possibilities felt endless.

Who knew this core memory of each other’s youth, the moment you finally let his fingers inch across the blanket and softly brush yours without pulling back, would be one of your last?

Two weeks before break started, after all of your plans for the summer and the following school year had been planned out, it happened.

To this day, you question the timing of your worst nightmare—just when you thought you were living the dream—coming true.

The Geto’s were moving on up.

For years, Suguru watched his mom grind in corporate America. It wasn’t new to him; she had one of the hardest work ethics he’d ever seen, but it was on a different level after his family moved to your city.

Something in her had changed—the thought of instability.

She knew Suguru was used to not seeing her due to long hours at work, but when it started to affect her husband, when it began to shift the family’s dynamic, she knew she had to figure something out, and fast.

She could sacrifice her time for the family. She couldn’t sacrifice Suguru’s time with his dad.

All these years, Suguru’s family pulled themselves up by their bootstraps while Suguru was lost in the bliss of friendship. Mrs. Geto’s hard work paid off, and she got a promotion—on the opposite end of the country.

The day was bright and sunny when he left, the exact opposite of how you felt watching the beat-up car that had grown on you drive out of the neighborhood.

You looked on from your window because you didn’t want him to see you crying, watching, or caring.

You had been right from the first time you saw him.

And were back to square one.

Alone.

You guys tried to stay in touch, you really did, but being in totally different time zones made keeping up with each other a little harder. New apps for your phones, like Snapchat and Instagram, helped a little, but they didn't compare to the late-night phone calls you missed so much.

At first, Suguru would Snap you about how he was getting on in his new city, neighborhood, and places his family would explore over the summer.

The thought of him being someone’s new boy-next-door made your stomach twist.

When school rolled around, he’d send Snaps and joke about his preppy new uniform that came with a vibrant red tie and over-starched navy pants. His mom got him into a fancy private school because, of course she would, but they were really strict with phones, so you weren't able to talk to him until he got home. By the time he did, the sun had already gone down for you, and you’d be too tired from your own after-school activities to keep your eyes open.

You missed Suguru—even your dad missed him and his family terribly.

You missed him so much that you began to resent him—his new life, fancy school, and new “friends”. Jealousy reared its ugly head, forcing you to put your walls up again.

Another friend, gone, moved on to bigger and better things. Leaving you behind once again.

You had finally found a friend, a real friend, who never made you feel bad—someone you could tell almost all of your secrets to.

Who got whisked away.

Who you’d give anything to see again and go back to the way things were.

Though it’d only been five years, you felt like you’d known him your entire life.

But what you thought was fate, turned out to be folly.

It wasn’t fair.

Sometimes I fall But still, I rise To the skies high above In the clouds my ego Will go where no one knows

Why I am here

And why I try

To defy what I believe What it means to succeed To be won

To be one

To be “the one”

A smoking gun.

“Thank you.”

The cafe filled with snapping fingers as you walked off the stage, heart pounding and a smile plastered on your ducking head.

Look at you now. Performing in cafes, libraries, open-mics, wherever you could be that called for an audience. Still a little shy, but letting it motivate you and pour out on the floor to be soaked up by the listeners. It was an adrenaline rush, finally finding something you knew belonged to you and being damned good at it.

No one was better than you at telling the world how you felt while simultaneously mesmerizing an audience with your soliloquy and speech. Words still had a hold on you; you just figured it was better to say them out loud than keep them written down.

“Good job, Bug.” Your dad handed you a hot cup of tea fresh from the counter with your nickname scribbled in big cursive letters across the cup.

“Dad, please stop calling me that.”

He frowned. “But you’re my little bug.” He threw an arm around you, almost making you spill the hot liquid.

You groaned and protested. “I’m not a kid anymore.” And took a sip too soon, burning the tip of your tongue. You held it in and swallowed, looking around to see if anyone else saw the scorned look on your face.

You thought of 15 as one of your prime years and kept yourself busy to prove it. Just a sophomore in high school, Baby had a new hobby: dominating slam poetry. You had taken over the scene in your city with expansion heavy on your mind.

Though it was hard for your dad to hear, you were right; you weren’t a kid anymore. But you knew he was just proud of you. More than you could ever know. It made him happy to see you had something no one could take from you.

With a tsk, you leaned into his hug. You should be thanking him more. When the idea of doing slam poetry first crossed your mind, you were a hot mess (surprise, surprise) at being confident (BIG surprise)—your stage presence was lacking, to be specific.

On the page, your poems were like water in a desert, but opening your mouth and performing it with your whole chest was…different.

Fixating on your lines and rhythm made you want to pull your hair out. It was hard making sure your words sounded like you and would be understood. You needed to be understood.

You’d practice your performances in front of your dad until you were blue in the face. A show was put on for anyone who would listen. And secretly, you missed Suguru’s presence because he’d be perfect for it.

But you didn’t need him. You were on your way to competing in your first official local competition. All your practice around the city and long hours at home agonizing over your talent for slam poetry built up to that moment—the time to show the world what you had to offer.

Nothing felt better than holding the gold 1st place medallion between your fingers afterward. Regionals came next, and nothing could have validated your talent more than the medals you took home on top of the prize money your dad stashed away for college.

It was time to travel, and Nationals was your next target.

You couldn’t describe the feeling of finally being outside your city. The thought of being beyond the walls of home once felt like a hopeless dream. New cities, new friends, new organizations, and new styles of poetry were within your reach. The exhilarating travel that worried your dad put a thrill in your heart. You wanted to see everything—be heard everywhere. Life was full of opportunity and everything it had to offer.

“So you’re gonna do the group piece and then an individual one, maybe?”

You leaned against the cool bus window as you and your teammates winded down the road to your next hotel. Over the summer, you traveled with your state’s top slam poetry organization to compete in regional cities around the coast. All of this was practice for the Nationals coming up that August before school started. The day was coming faster than you could imagine.

“I don’t know about a solo,” you wondered.

You looked out the window and chewed your bottom lip. Your team lead had been pushing you to do a stand-alone piece for the Nationals for weeks, but you felt far from ready. You were strong in a group, but on your own, looking out into a crowd of people while demanding their attention on an empty stage, the thought made you queasy.

This wasn’t your local library or a small regional contest. Nationals is where you tell the country who you are and why you matter.

“Hey,” a hand rested on your shoulder, calling you back. “You’ve got this. You deserve this.”

And you did deserve it. You’d worked too hard and advanced so far in such a short amount of time. You didn’t think you’d get here so fast, but here you were, on a double-decker bus full of others who were just as talented as you, in a place where you belonged. In a place where you didn’t have to try so hard or look for that slight nod of approval to let you know you were seen.

August was in a hurry to put you on the stage because, before you knew it, it was time to head to California for the Nationals. What better place to begin to live your dreams than in the place where they all come true? Sunny skies, sandy beaches, and the aura of art and performance lingered in the air. It was the complete opposite of where you came from. It felt like home. You could see how Suguru could get easily lost in all.

You always wanted to visit the West Coast and see how he was living.

It’d be so funny to randomly Snap him after all this time and tell him you were so close, but you decided against it.

Cali was HUGE; there’s no way the competition would just happen to be in his city for you to casually bump into him.

Plus, imagine that awkward reunion after a few years of radio silence.

You two could be completely different people now.

He probably wouldn’t even want to see you.

Maybe you didn’t want to see him.

So many great things happened since his family packed up and left. In fact, without Suguru around, you found yourself excelling more naturally at anything and everything than ever before. Comparisons were a thing of the past, and you knew you had something no one else could take away from you.

Except maybe the competitor going on before you at the Nationals.

The audience was loud and clearly approving of his killer performance as they ate him up with whistles and snapping fingers.

Who needed a mic when you had a voice like that?

Easily projecting across the entire venue with every rhythmic pop, beat, and enunciation of his words.

You might have met your match or worse.

For the first time in your poetic career, you thought you just might lose your winning streak.

Anxiety convinced you to head back to the holding area. You just needed to run through the lines of your solo only a few more times.

You’ve got this.

He was nothing.

This was nothing.

You were taking home first place—absolutely positive that success was literally on the tip of your tongue. Until you saw him.

The boy with the raven hair.

Unmistakable and stopping you dead in your tracks as you saw him in the flesh for the first time in 2 years, standing long and tall in the venue.

Not in the audience.

Not as a stagehand.

But in another team’s holding room.

As a competitor.

Your heart plummeted into your ass.

What in the fuck was he doing here???

You swiftly ducked behind the wall leading to your team’s holding area, hand flying to your chest to still the thunderous beating.

Deep breaths, deep breaths. DEEP B R E A T H S.

Suddenly, your mouth was desert dry.

The entire summer, you prepared yourself to keep from slipping up—how you would suppress the urge to call him, think about him, or wonder where he would be when you were here.

You covered all of the bases.

But here he was in a place you least expected.

In a place you now knew you’d dread seeing him the most.

The boy you had become a ghost to was haunting you, but somehow, you knew this would happen.

You only got a quick glance at him before you vanished, but it was enough of a glimpse to notice the chances.

And God, were there changes.

As teenagers do, you both had grown out of your prepubescent bodies and into your young adult ones. And while you thought you looked relatively the same with a few upgrades here and there, Suguru had gone through a full-blown glow-up that set yours on fire.

“Almost ready?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Your teammate followed your line of sight and smirked. “Know him?”

You shrugged a bit too nonchalantly and said you thought he looked familiar but didn’t. “Shame,” she rested her shoulder on the wall with a dreamy gaze. “He looks like a dream.”

You turned away before you threw up and realized that you were about to be called up next. The frazzled look on your team lead’s face let you know she’d been looking for you, and you took a synced deep breath when she spotted you. Her hands fell on your shoulders before you went up the stairs to the stage. “You’ve got this.”

I’ve got this. . . . You don’t got this.

Your legs felt like Jell-O walking up the short set of stairs to the black platform in the middle of the stage. You hadn’t been on one this big, in a venue so large, with an audience so vast and eyes in the hundreds. The row of judges sat below you, yet looked so intimidating. Heat engulfed you from the lights above—a literal deer playing the lion in the headlights.

Sight zeroed in on the judges, you avoided the audience. Hoping that he wasn't still there because you knew seeing him WOULD freak you out.

In the silence Between the shattered and oppressed dreams I found, I tore The roar Of my own voice Reclaiming the night

Your lines flowed out of you more naturally than water, eyes closed, unfocused, or hazy as you transformed your surroundings into the scene of your story—the journey from struggle to empowerment—the story of why you deserved to be here. In that moment, there was no one else—not even the judges—just you, the stage, and the song that belonged to you, even if it mattered to no one else.

But it mattered to him.

And you didn’t see him until near the end of your set.

The familiarity of your voice called him to confirm it for himself. To make sure it was you. He couldn’t believe it. You looked so…powerful. Fully fledged in your adulthood, kicking ass and taking names. Fierce and poetic. The same attitude as the girl he grew up with but in its full realization.

Your voice cracked a little when you spotted him, completely awe-struck by you, but you played it off like it was part of your set. Damn the boy who had the same gawking eyes that used to watch the neighborhood kids—quiet and longing. You hoped it wasn’t obvious, but Suguru noticed. He knew. He still had some kind of effect on you. He could tell by how quickly you looked away. You still felt a way about him. He wasn’t just a nobody to you. But given the circumstances, he didn’t know whether to love or hate it by the time he took the stage.

The mic fit snuggly between his fingers. It was rare that someone fully approached it without starting their piece first. You wondered where he was going with this, why he looked a bit tense, why he kept his gaze low—if it could be because of you.

You held your breath and crossed your fingers. Once again, it was time to see him in action under the sweltering stage lights. And in seconds, you saw your gold medal fleeting.

You expected nothing less.

His voice was lined with melody—a sweet, ethereal flow and a melodious string of vocabulary that wrapped you in an envelope and swaddled you like a baby. He sounded so mature. He sounded so much better…than you.

The nerdy boy with too-big glasses and cracking voice had been replaced by a young man who towarded over the audience with a long side-bang and gauges in his ears. The red tie around his neck did look absolutely ridiculous like he said, but the rest of his navy blue uniform was tailored to perfection and fit like a glove.

He looked and sounded like where he came from. Money. But he was more than that. You found yourself hanging onto his every word as you watched from out of sight. He couldn’t see that he made your heart thump, but it was begging to fall out of your chest by the second.

This wasn’t about slam poetry anymore.

Suguru had entered your arena.

Shy, reserved, and knocking the ball out of the park.

Out of over 200 solo acts, you came in 6th. Suguru came in 5th.

And you couldn’t even feel good about it. Because you knew what this meant.

Regionals took over the remainder of your sophomore academic year, but when summer rolled back around, it was time to look Suguru in the face again at almost every out-of-state competition. The West Coast was once a dream—now you dreaded touring the area because you knew he would be there.

Performing.

Waiting to chew you up and spit you out.

Over the final two years of high school, you both spent most of your free time hopping around the nation and directly squaring off with each other.

Growing more apart as you did.

Silent hatred brewed and led the way every time you saw him—unmistakably written on your face.

He chalked it up to the fact that the two of you had changed over the years, and maybe you’d simply outgrown him. But he never thought someone he used to call his best friend could give him a look so cold. With no other choice but to follow your lead, he kept his distance and pretended you weren’t there.

But the way he racked up medal after medal, winning over judges and audiences alike, was loud and clear.

With him, you could only hope for second best. Though out-of-state competitions were just practice, losing to him in any capacity was a constant reminder that what was yours, wasn’t anymore.

If it ever was.

This time, anxiety burned through you instead of helping you.

During junior year, one of the most pivotal moments of your poetic careers, you met face-to-face again at the Nationals. Both of your organizations fought their way to the semifinals, but as you held your breath waiting for the judges to call his team’s name, silence swept both of you when you realized that neither of you made it to the finals.

Again.

By that summer, you were tired, good and tired of inching closer and closer to third place, then second, but never first in out-of-state competitions where Suguru was in the mix.

He was sucking the life out of you, but you couldn’t show it, especially when on stage where you knew he’d have his eyes glued to you.

Then, in August of your senior year, it finally happened; you returned to the Nationals, your final opportunity to win and go international. This time, it was close to your territory, in Georgia.

All bets were off.

The winner was a toss-up.

And what a slap in the face to finally win….and tie with Suguru.

You sulked on the inside the whole ride home while your teammates cheered and celebrated around you. To them, you’d just made history with your organization being the first in your state to go to the continental competition and have a shot at the World Poetry Slam Championship.

To you, your freedom of expression kept escaping you.

You felt yourself starting to mold into something outside of yourself.

Some nights, you lied in bed, unable to sleep hearing Suguru’s rhythmic beats rack through your brain.

Analyzing them.

Judging them.

Mimicking them.

Wanting to be like the best.

Your foundation was shaking.

At least you didn’t have to worry about the continental competition. Winning wasn’t the point; only earning one of the top 10 high scores to be automatically qualified for the WPSC.

It was a dream come true.

But how come it tasted so sour when you stood on that stage, your teammates going absolutely insane in the crowd at the news of you advancing to the international championship, but once again with a score just shy of Suguru’s?

The two of you were declared the best in your country…and you were sulking.

It shouldn’t matter!

You're one of the top 40 poets in the WORLD, babe!

And, for Godsake, a free plane ticket and trip to leave the country was waiting for you with your name on it! Belgian waffles and fountains of chocolate are more than enough reasons to get over yourself and this one-sided beef.

But your dad still got an earful about it.

Weekly chats with him almost always centered around poetry and Suguru ever since you first saw him sophomore year.

The closer the world championship came, the sadder you sounded.

“What if I-”

Your dad stopped you. “Don’t even finish that sentence. What have I always said?”

You hugged the phone to your ear, rolling your suitcase back and forth between your legs in the airport terminal. “Bug,” your dad said after a moment’s silence.

You groaned. “We don’t say ‘what-ifs’. We say ‘what is’.”

“And what’s going to happen.”

You looked over to your team lead, soundly napping in the corner. It was the butt crack of dawn, and both of you had gotten to the airport way too early for your liking to make sure you didn’t miss your flight. Your first international flight. You actually had a passport, like???

So much had gone into getting you here.

Energy. Time. Effort. Trust. Encouragement.

People were rooting for you. They wanted to see you win. You wanted to see you win.

“I’m gonna do my best.”

“Then you’re already a winner, Bug.”

God, your dad was gushy. And God, you loved him for it.

You didn’t feel so bad by the time you watched the sunrise in full bloom through your airplane window.

Pink, orange, and yellow washed over your face, making you feel so small. It wasn’t your first time in the sky, but definitely the most nervous you’d been.

Local papers, blogs, and newsletters featured your name—people knew you now; they had expectations.

A reputation had been made, and now you were in the fight of your life to keep it.

You sighed into your palm with your dad’s words in mind.

David was determined to take Goliath down.

Belgium.was.cold.

Like you hadn’t packed nearly thick enough coats type of cold.

You felt like an idiot.

You were a lyrical genius but couldn’t even put ‘Belgium in December’ and ‘it might be freezing’ together. But the lobby of your quaint little hotel with hot chocolate on tap was warm and inviting.

Your team lead handed you a cup, and you found yourself missing your teammates. They would have loved this and cheering you on at the top of their lungs.

The feeling was lonely—nerve-wracking.

You were in the beautiful country of Germany for a competition, not leisure, so you couldn’t even relish in the fact that you were overseas.

At least the food was good. Nervous eating made you binge until you felt sick the night before the competition, but a quick stroll in the brisk morning air made you feel better.

The bus ride to the venue felt like you were about to hop into a boxing ring. And the gloves were off.

Crossing the threshold into a space full of chosen people was like marveling at the diamonds of top-society. And you were one of them. Your team lead walked by and closed your gaping mouth with a smile. “Chin up, dear.” And disappeared into the crowd.

You'd never met a foreigner before and were thrust into a venue full of different skin tones, accents, languages, and ages. It would’ve been even more overwhelming had it not been for the smell of coffee wafting through the air, reminding you of your last safe space for poetry before you went pro. With half an hour left until the competition, you thought exploring a little wouldn’t be a bad idea.

The venue was dark and moody, perfect for setting the atmosphere and circulating the rising tension in your body. The main stage basked against the background of darkness under a single warm light that cast a circular glow.

Your final destination.

His burial sight.

Suguru was nowhere to be found, but by the looks of the thick crowd shuffling in to fill their seats, it was easy to get lost. You met back with your team lead to run your rhythms a few more times.

“Please don’t say it.” And she laughs, giving you a small nod and shoulder squeeze.

You still hear it in your head. You’ve got this.

But man, were these poets giving you a run for your money.

It was exhilarating and terrifying—a glaring reminder of why you were here among the best.

Translations were available on the screens behind the performers as you ping-ponged between their words and their expressions. Both demanded your attention and the crowd’s.

But so did you and Suguru when you both breezed through the semifinals.

For a second, you thought he hadn’t made it to the venue at all when you looked for him during your performance. But he let you and everyone else know he was in the building when he graced that stage. A hush fell over the space, and even you felt your face go soft while watching him.

He more than deserved that advance, but you weren’t done just yet.

After a brief intermission—the DJ wasn’t playing any games—you turned the corner to line up for the final round when you collided at 100mph with Suguru.

“Fu— oh.” You held your arm as you looked at him—really taking him in.

When he was on stage, you noticed he wasn’t in his usual uniform, but up close, the alternative was definitely a choice. The loose black tee ruffled as he smoothed his bang.

“Sorry.”

He rubbed his shoulder and kept his eyes low. His hands stuffed into his black cargos as he looked away, not wanting to upset you. Or see the look of resentment on your face.

You could tell he knew he made you uncomfortable, but you didn’t know how different he wished things could have been.

Hurt was written all over the face of your childhood best friend, and you never knew Suguru to be upset about anything.

You cleared your throat. “Good luck.”

His head drew back like he’d seen a ghost.

His lips parted.

Then he kind of smiled, leaning against the wall—looking at you for a moment.

You were so grown up and had accomplished so much.

Suguru was fully aware that you hated his guts and was so proud of you—even if you didn’t need him anymore.

He reached out to shake your hand. “Good luck, Twin.”

Your heart thumped—no one had called you that in 4 years—sweet and low from honeyed lips.

Suguru’s hand lingered in your air for a second before you gingerly took it.

Soft and warm.

Just like you remembered but stronger—firmer.

The gloves were off for him, too.

Things were done a bit differently for the final rounds. Instead of holding deliberations for the end of the rounds after everyone had gone, everyone got their votes front and center from five random audience members.

Paddles would fly in the air, displaying the scores to be tallied up and held until the end.

Thank God you could do quick math. Numbers were racking up—bone-chilling talent was on full display.

You were amazed, laughing, shocked. Every set was different from the last.

The crowd fell into a hush when one guy came on stage and laid straight down. Bareback to ground. Then fired off rhythmic jokes that made you laugh at some and ponder the seriousness of others.

Dark humor often has truth in it.

Most sets were in a completely different language yet spoken so beautifully that you dug your nails into your palms to keep from crying. Emotion was universal. And you were feeling a lot of them.

Suguru walking onto the stage snapped you out of it as you watched from the other side of it.

Though you’d just seen him a few minutes ago, this was a completely different light. Something had shifted.

Nice to meet you My name is Suguru Oh really? So is mine! It’s nice to meet you too.

Tell me what you’re like, what do you like to do? Lately, I’m not sure Was hoping for a breakthrough

In a world where masks are sticky and glue I’m lost in a maze with no clear view Doubt will cling like morning dew Caught in the storm of shifting hues

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought Suguru was having a mental breakdown.

Your jaw tightened, clothes fidgeting between your fingers.

It was the most unexpected thing you could’ve imagined. And this was just the beginning of the journey through his paradoxical mind.

His ship was sinking. And he was taking you all down with him.

…I wear many faces each one feels new, But none will fit like I want it to Left with a voice that's small and untrue Burying deep I don't know what to do

In this mirror, I’m searching for clues, But this reflection is oddly askew. You scream through the glass, “Stay real and stay true!” But if you’re me, then…who are you?

You could hear a pin drop.

Suguru stopped breathing.

He couldn’t believe that he actually did it. He had never been so vulnerable.

If you thought you knew him and what he was going through before, you were left stunned and corrected.

A few of his scores floated into the air, and though you couldn’t see them all, the few you did were perfect 10s.

It would’ve been hell to go directly after that—thankfully, you had a few more people before you.

Time crept closer and closer to your set—nervous sweats and fidgeting fingers kept you company.

So much for keeping a hobby a hobby, you thought, pacing backstage.

This wasn’t fun for you anymore; it was always supposed to be fun, easy, natural.

But this was no longer just about you.

It never was.

It was about proving anyone who ever doubted wrong.

When the host called your name, you made those 3 minutes on stage feel like your last.

Rain, rain don’t go away, You’re the only one who stays, Cross my heart and hope to die I promise that I will not cry

Build and build and There it goes! All for naught and just for show Hypnotize your guards to grave Leave the trust to fade away

This was your final plea to be heard by the world if you had ever made one.

A letter to those who ever dismissed, ignored, or left you.

Fire and brimstone poured from the pit of your soul—served up on a plate with the audience in mind but Suguru as the guest of honor.

You thought he’d be away in the dressing room or at least within earshot, but no. He stood tall and bright, leaning against the door frame that led out to the hall, backlit by the warm lights that framed his figure, watching.

Listening.

Knowing the poem was partially about him.

You hoped it hurt him as much to hear it as it did for you to write it.

Deep breaths kept your voice steady—he wouldn’t hear it crack this time as you powered through your trembles. Bold and brash. Unleashing your truth.

He saw it in your eyes and unconsciously did the only thing he knew to support you, the beginning of your connection—trust that blossomed into turmoil. The small nod of approval.

Years had passed.

Envy had pushed you to avoid him.

He accepted that you no longer saw him as a friend.

Yet he still wanted to show his support.

And it pissed you off.

…Lo and behold the savior's light Here to take another flight Take me by my desperate hand Lead me how you only can Fragile like a gentle rose I will follow where you go.

Shadows whisper of the known What I am. I am alone...

You walked off stage before you could see your final scores.

Whatever would be was now out of your hands—the relief felt agonizingly sweet.

Your team lead wrapped you in her arms as you silently cried. You didn’t know how long the tears had been building up, but the release was like a dam burst.

Crying on your first international trip to Belgium.

Nice.

A final intermission was left, and the scores were tallied. You guzzled down some water and took a few breaths before meeting the rest of the contestants. Finally, finally, you and Suguru stood side by side again on stage. Your entire history had built up to this moment—ready to declare a winner. Ready to determine whether you finally caught up.

His pinky brushed yours, sending sparks to your belly like that day on his porch.

Head down, you waited for a name to be called.

Any name, every name, would be better than—

“Suguru Geto.”

Naturally rolling off their tongue.

Suguru stiffened beside you like he couldn’t believe it himself as they motioned for him to come forward. In your mind, everything went quiet. You couldn’t feel anything but emptiness in the pit of your stomach. Not even anger.

Before he moved a muscle to claim the spotlight, he turned to you, daring to offer his hand again. But it felt less like a “Job well done!” and more like a pitiful “I’m sorry.” And you had had enough of condolences.

You turned away and left the stage in the midst of the raging applause for Suguru. No one else may have caught the cold shoulder, but to Suguru, it felt like he was trapped in ice. He could leave your life forever now for all you cared.

This was your one, final chance to make things even between you two.

But reality was a bitch.

You couldn’t get away from him quick enough.

Yes, you’ve gotten to travel the country. Yes, you got the opportunity of a lifetime to go overseas just off your hard work alone, but all of that meant nothing if you were only second best.

It was redundant.

What was even the point in trying? You would never be good enough to stand on your own. Always under his shadow, drowning in his wake.

It wasn’t.fucking.fair.

You brushed past your team lead, contestants—anyone trying to tell you how amazing you did. You couldn’t stand being bathed in lies and beelined out the back of the venue.

“Fuck this.” You choked back tears, breath escaping you as you pushed the door open.

The contrast of sharp, cold air whipped your face, making you realize you didn’t grab your jacket, but it was just what you needed to set the gravity of your situation in.

You were nothing.

You bawled your fists.

And foolish for trying.

Hyperventilating.

Look at what you came from. Look at what you get for trying to change that.

Hot, fat tears spilled down your face as you huddled in a corner of the building. You wrapped your arms around your knees, trying to shield the icy winds, but you already felt dead inside. Pathetic and worthless. It was out of your hands to change that.

A voice called after you, belonging to the last person you wanted to see right now. That soft, angelic voice that swooned the world and made your insides boil. Why couldn’t he just get it?? Why couldn’t he stay the fuck away??

You thought you had hidden yourself well by putting a bit of distance between the exit and the corner you tucked into, but he found you in seconds, tears dried on your face, crouching into your knees.

He stood there gaping, completely overwhelmed by the state of you.

For once, he was out of words.

“Well??” It was hoarse and cracking.

“I-I’m—”

“Oh my God, pLEASE fucking save it!” You shook, burying your head into your arms.

It was enough that he got to bask in your pathetic breakdown with front-row seats. He didn’t need to pretend he didn’t enjoy it.

But Suguru was fed up with your bullshit and came looking to tell you about it. The final straw was leaving his extension of sympathy high and dry as you walked off stage. Giving him the ultimate “fuck you” in his moment of congratulations.

He never understood why you hated him—the resentment, what happened, what he’d done. But he was about to make you explain yourself.

“Get up.” Gentleness left his voice.

He came closer and towered over your petite frame, cornering you so you couldn’t run away. “You think I don’t know how much this meant to you?”

When you didn’t answer, he crouched down to your level.

“Hey.”

You buried yourself deeper.

“Hey.”

“Don’t touch me.” You brushed him away, pressing your back into the wall as you stood up, shivering in the wind.

But it felt like you had punched him in the gut.

He had never seen you so bothered before, and the revelation that you were pointing the finger and naming him the culprit made his chest feel tight. It felt worse attempting to bury your heart on your sleeve. But the extent of your scorn was on full display.

After a moment of looking your bitterness in the face, it finally clicked for Suguru.

Why you hated him. Couldn't stand to look at him. Avoided him.

Why you started all of this competitive bullshit in the first place.

The root of it was more painfully obvious to see than the daggers in your eyes. What else could it be?

“You’re jealous.”

And that set you off.

“HA!” It almost hurt to laugh. “Jealous?!”

People could probably hear you inside the venue. But Suguru knew just what to say to get you to talk.

“This whole time, I thought you were upset because I left, but…you’re just jealous.”

You snorted. “You’ve never worked hard a day in your life.”

“What? You don’t think I earned this?”

“Who knows? Mommy buys you everything.”

“Woah,” he held up a hand and laughed, “Is that what this is about?”

Your cheeks burned hot, but you had egg on your face and had just spilled the beans. But fire still raged in your chest.

“You could have had anything else. Anything! Anything in the world, but you just had to take this from me!”

“How was I supposed to know??” he cut you off, “You stopped talking to me.”

You felt a pang and fell silent—flurries of unread texts, unopened Snaps, and missed calls played in both of your minds.

“How was I supposed to know anything? How was I supposed to have anything without making you feel bad?”

“Me?” You scoffed. “Without me, you’d probably still be sitting on that dusty ass porch (you loved that porch), watching everyone go and fucking live life.”

“I was like 7.”

“9.” You rubbed the blooming goosebumps on your arms.

“Whatever, you think I owe you or something? You want a ‘thank you’?”

His tone made you shift, but you puffed up your chest.

“No, I don’t need a thank you." Your eyes narrowed. “I’m just not that impressed.”

Oh?

He scoffed, backing away with a smirk, arms swinging as he looked away then back at you. “You’re full of it.”

“You’re not that talented.”

He cocked his head, raising a brow. You were questioning his talent—clearly emotional and spewing lies—but it was a shot at his reputation nonetheless.

His smirk faltered as he clasped his hands. “You wanna go?” And then he got closer. Your breath caught as he studied your face, his left arm shooting out to frame you, pinning you into the corner.

The heat radiating off his body should have been a comfort in the frosty air, but fuck, you also felt other things that raced your heart and made you hate yourself.

He leaned over you. “How would you like to eat your words? Fried? Or sautéed?”

His eyes bore into yours, daring you to buck up or back down. But just because he finally had the balls to challenge you and take up space didn't mean you were intimidated.

He was the same little boy he'd always been.

And you were quick to remind him.

“Bite me, Get—”

Instead, he kissed, capturing your lips in a way that shot electricity down your spine and stole the breath and shriek right out of your body.

In an instant, you swore your pupils morphed into hearts. For so long, he's wanted to do that—kiss your sweet, supple lips that ramble nonsense and shut you up—bridge the gap between your broken friendship to ask for more, to make all your fire, resistance, and anger melt away...so you could come back to him.

Knees weak, you nearly staggered, scrambling for the walls to keep you up, but was saved by his hand cradling your hip to hold you. Keep you. Protect you. Your heart burst.

You pulled away, eyes heavy. Leaving a sliver of space between your lips to see your heated breaths mingling in the chilly air as he rested his forehead against yours. Softly, you cradled his face in your hand, feeling waves of longing swell through your body—his had already burst. Then you slapped him.

“How’s that for poetry?” And left.

extended angel's note: this story took a TOTALLY different turn from what i originally planned (thanks Mac Miller) but omg it's sO much better and kinda fits into all of the sugu angst i have planned (oh how i love to hurt myself so). this story in particular was supposed to be like all smut and no exposition but um…things happen 😅 sO, all of the low-angst, ‘enemies’ to lovers lives in part 1, with a focus on the resolution in part 2: lovers who give in and chose each other arc while remaining focused on my original goal of making a smut that spotlights and actualizes realistic sex. learning each other, listening, patiently growing, and choosing.

#bluuharem #God is Fair #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk poc reader #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #suguru smut #jjk smut #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #anime fanfic

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