#is too fucked up to engage in argument

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[sybbi]

If anybody wants an update on the precariously-close-to-failed democracy of Ohio, the Republican supermajority is attempting to keep the sitting president off of the November ballot on a technicality they created (and have previously bypassed when convenient).

These are the same people that tried everything in their power to keep an abortion initiative off the ballot despite swearing up and down it wouldn't pass anyway because they totally represent the average Ohioan's opinion on this matter so they KNOW Ohioans are against abortion, and when the measure DID get put on the ballot and Ohioans DID vote to protect abortion, they immediately said "This isn't over," because fuck the people's will.

I've said it before and I will continue to scream it until I'm red in the fucking face:

One party isn't perfect, but they have shown they value the most basic tenets of representative democracy.

The other party is pulling out all the stops to ensure we are a "democracy" in theory only.

[zipquips]

vent in tags

[faesystem]

its really hard to tell if some of yall are being purposefully ignorant, or if yall genuinely dont know the context of what people are ACTUALLY talking about

[catfishofoldin99colours]

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Bad.

[szasfuckingwife]

basketballer!Gojo who knew you from college. You often showed up to his games with your friend (who liked Suguru) and just, in the most uncreepy way possible , stare at him.

basketballer!Gojo who stayed in contact with you even when he went pro. The blinding lights of fame didn’t blur his deep attraction and fondness of you. Even on his least busiest day, which was still pretty busy, he made time for you.

‘Morning, my love…your smile lightens the world and my heart, love G.S’

You smile at the note that was amongst the several bouquets of red roses, your fave.

basketballer!Gojo who made sure he returned to you every night. Unlike his teammates, he wasn’t the type to go clubbing or anything similar. He was just a guy, obsessed with playing basketball and his girlfriend.

“Fuckin’ love you, Y/N…” He breathes into your ear. After a very deserved win, he made sure to let you know how much he appreciated your support. A string of whimpers left your mouth as his dick slid in and out of you. “Always so good for me, baby..”

basketballer!Gojo who, for some reason, gets a little jealous when you steal some of his spotlight. Maybe it was just an ego thing. He was fine at first when it came to you being called ‘WAG of the season’ after sporting some cute outfits. But then when magazines and publishers hit you up, something shifted.

It was no longer Satoru Gojo and his girlfriend. But now Y/N L/N and…what’s-his-face..?

basketballer!Gojo who you no longer recognised after a heated argument.

“You know, this is so predictable. I supported you since we were in college and the one time something good goes for me, you bitch and complain!”, you yell him, your index finger was firm against his chest. “It pisses me off, Gojo. I’m done.”

He scoffs, “I just think it’s too much. The red carpets and shit, I don’t get it.”

“You don’t get it because you’re used to me being just your stay at home girlfriend. Things change!” You release your own scoff to his response.

“Maybe I liked it that way because you had time for me-”

“But you never had time for me!”

basketballer!Gojo who has no comment to reporters when asked about the ‘break up rumours ‘with long term girlfriend, Y/N. But behind the scenes, he’s yearning for your forgiveness. He’s constantly at Suguru and your best friend’s house, hoping he’ll bump into you but you were never there.

it wasn’t until the season’s final where Satoru’s team were up against the undefeated (3 years in a row) champions. He was definitely shitting himself. As team captain, he was physically present, but not mentally.

But when he walked out and saw you in the crowd wearing his jersey, he suddenly felt calm. Were you attracting all the cameras? Yes. Were you dragging attention away from the game? At times, yes. But did he mind? No. For you were there for him. Even when you hated his guts.

basketballer!Gojo who fucks you like it’s his last night with you after his team won the finals. You can’t even remember how many times you’ve came but Satoru wasn’t gonna let you go.

“Toru-hnnnggghhh..! It’s too much!” You cry out real tears as he fucks up into you. He bites your shoulder, he wanted to be so close to you after so many separated nights.

“I’ve missed this body, I’ve missed you so much, baby. You have no clue…” He growls.

basketballer!Gojo who has the biggest grin on his face when paparazzi swarm him, asking about his engagement with Y/N. Truth be told, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he popped the question.

“Satoru, what’s next for you and Y/N?” A reporter asked.

“Babies. Lot’s of ‘em.” He smugly replies.

You’ll defo punish him for that comment.

[ikeuverse]

TO BELIEVE — s.jaeyun

PAIRING: ex!jake x fem!reader  GENRES: angst, smut, fluff WC: 15.4k+

WARNINGS: argument, swearing, mention of cheating, fights, brief description of a physical fight, unprotected sex (don't do it, do it safely), nipple play, cumming inside. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

SYNOPSIS: you have the mission of being godmother at your brother's wedding, but the only obstacle is sharing it with his best friend, and your ex-bf who you're sure cheated on you, jake sim.

NOTES: one of the many stories i have saved for my jake. it was supposed to be short, but i can't, i always get carried away writing it! i hope you enjoy it.

masterlist

“I don't believe it” you said, a sigh of weariness and discontent coming from your lips when your brother's voice informed you of this.

You had known that he and Josie would get married from the moment they got engaged in their last year of high school. Heeseung was completely in love with your best friend and you, being a great person, encouraged the two of them to get together. But what frustrated you wasn't the wedding itself, or the responsibility you had been given as a bridesmaid, but the fact that it would all be shared with Jake Sim, Josie's brother and, ironically, your ex-boyfriend.

It would be a blessing to have his friendship after the two of you broke up because, after all, both families would be united one way or another. But the break-up hadn't been pleasant at all and, after a year apart, any interaction between you and Jake was cause for friction. If you were in a cartoon, sparks would surely fly from the two of you every time you were in the same room.

“Come on Y/n, Jake is my best friend and Josie's brother” Heeseung sighed too, putting on a pout that almost had you convinced of the proposal “It was obvious that he would be best man with you at our wedding.”

Your brother was right and you knew it from the start. Since before you and Jake broke up. When Heeseung and Josie talked about marriage in college, saying that the two of you would be the best man because it was perfect that you were both also dating. A coincidence that life provided. Your best friend dating your brother and you dating your best friend's brother. But since things weren't that simple for you, only Josie was happy now.

“Can't you and she, I don't know, just have more than one best man?” your eyes wandered over to your brother who was trying to maintain a relaxed posture, his body slumped nonchalantly on the sofa at your parents' house. Where you and he got together every weekend for lunch or just to pass the time in your hectic lives without any contact during the week “I'd love to be a bridesmaid to Jungwon, for example.”

“He'll be one of the godparents, of course” Heeseung smiled at you, although his gaze was on the large television that was playing some program that your brother could barely pay attention to “But your mission and Jake's are much greater because, well… You'll be our witnesses.”

It was a more than important title. Witnessing their union from the beginning, seeing them sign the papers and then exchange vows, it was all so beautiful.

“That's not the problem” he sighed so loudly that it was only at that moment that Heeseung stopped staring at the television so that he could look in your direction “It's that I'm going to have to go after practically everything for you and Josie together with Jake.”

“A great opportunity for you two to talk and finally understand each other” he said without thinking, regretting it at the exact moment he felt a pillow fly at his head “Ouch! What the fuck, Y/n?”

“You're defending him again!”

“I'm just telling you to really listen to him” Heeseung protected himself from another pillow to the head, holding it in the air before you could even hit him “Jake wouldn't be able to do that. Even more so with you.”

Even more so with you. Why did your brother insist on defending Jake? As if you were dumb enough to have gone to meet him in the locker room before the friendly match and, unfortunately, found a bra in his locker that wasn't yours. You didn't even wear pink bows on the bulge, it was too cute. Only someone wore that kind of outfit, showing off to everyone who had the chance. So it was easy to associate Jake, the captain of the university soccer team, with the slutty cheerleader you grew to hate even more.

Both Heeseung and Josie were forbidden to talk about it, to defend Jake in your presence, or to make you talk to him after you decided to end it all. It could have been completely childish of you not to listen to him, to throw your bra at Jake and utter the last words you could, looking deep into those brown eyes you had once come to love.

“I hate that I loved you” Jake didn't think it would hurt more than the accusation of betrayal, even though he hadn't even had the chance to say anything. Your voice was like a deep cut, bigger than any injury he had once felt playing soccer.

After that day you saw Jake Sim as the biggest traitor in history and the person you had all the bad feelings for. Even if the words had to be a little more restrained in the presence of family or when you decided to omit all the bad things that happened, saying that the break-up was because you wanted to take a trip abroad. The trip happened, and spending almost eight months in Madrid was able to clear your head.

Being away from Jake and everything that involved him and your family – which was now his too – helped you to cope a little with the distance. But you came back so quickly with the news of your brother's wedding that the last few months since your arrival in Madrid have all ended in arguments, or you and Jake swearing at each other until you can't take it anymore.

You could say you felt physical pain just being in his presence because you knew it was inevitable that you wouldn't have a single argument. Did he feel entitled to feel resentful and hurt by something he had done? And did Jake get irritated by the way you got angry without even giving him a chance to explain properly? Jake would never do that, but your mind and your eyes told you otherwise. You didn't want to listen to him, you didn't want to live with him. Perhaps living in Madrid after your brother's wedding could be an almost real thought, although you would never be able to leave your family in the long term.

“Y/n” Heeseung called out, taking you out of your thoughts as he held your hand. The gentle, comforting touch that only your older brother could provide “I know this situation will always be bad for you and him, but—” he squeezed your hand lightly “Can you do this for me and Josie? Please?”

The pleading voice was an extremely low game that Heeseung played with you to get what he wanted, but at that moment you felt vulnerability. You felt that he really wanted you to accept because it went beyond anything between you and Jake. It wasn't on purpose that he and Josie had done this, after all, you and Jake were the brothers of the bride and groom anyway. You both had to be at that wedding one way or another.

Squeezing Heeseung's hands back, you let out a low sigh. Your eyes wandered over his face as you saw hope run through the boy's eyes. It didn't seem like he was older than you and about to get married.

“All right, I'll try” you said at last, watching Heeseung's smile widen even more.

“Thanks Y/n, you're the best sister in the world” he bent down to kiss your cheek, releasing your hands to get up from the sofa.

“I'm the only sister you've got, asshole. I have to be the best!” you protested.

Heeseung's laughter echoed down the corridor to the kitchen, where he had disappeared. Surely he was going after some dessert to share with you while jabbering on about some wedding details he hadn't stopped talking about for a second since you showed up.

Your break-up wasn't an entirely amicable affair between the two of you. Your mind and heart were convinced that Jake had cheated on you, although you had never seen him get so worked up trying to explain that it would never happen. His hands gripping his hair as he paced the room, stuttering or not finishing a sentence because you didn't want to hear it. Part of you knew that denial came because you didn't want to hear anything from him and have to go back on what you saw, but another part still kept the image of that pink bow bra inside his locker in the changing room vivid.

But for your family, the break-up had gone smoothly. You both agreed to make up some excuse, after all, you'd still have to deal with each other for the rest of your lives because now Heeseung and Josie were getting married. There was no way you could avoid Jake or he could avoid you. His closest friends knew what had happened, two of Jake's best friends besides Heeseung and Susan, your other best friend along with Josie. Even though your anger towards him still remained, you didn't want others to think the wrong thing about you and Jake. Sparing you explanations or embarrassment. Even sparing you from remembering that day.

Living in a small – and false – harmony while being close to your family or anyone else who didn't know what actually happened. That's why the two of you were together in the party store at that moment.

Being appointed best man was something Jake knew would happen, ever since Heeseung confessed that he was going to propose to Josie a month before they finished university. Jake didn't want to be selfish by seeing his best friend in love while he was on the brink of ruin because, in addition to breaking up with you, he had just learned that you were going to another country. Maybe that was a good thing after all. Having you away would help him think and even try to find some way to get you to listen to him. Jake wouldn't give up on making you listen to him, even if it took years, he would make you hear the whole truth.

Looking around with a small sigh, he returned to the present moment. Staring at some baskets that he couldn't tell the material of. Wicker, bamboo or straw? Were those ropes really woven together, one by one?

“What have you got on your list?” your voice snapped him out of his reverie and made Jake look quickly in your direction. Trying to concentrate on your serious face, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked down at his notes.

He reached for the piece of paper in the back pocket of his jeans, opening what was already all but crumpled. While you had a notebook between your fingers, he had a piece of paper.

Typical Jake Sim, he knew you'd say that out loud if you were still together. And if you were together, you'd roll your eyes playfully and walk over to him, pick up the piece of paper, and throw it away, because his notes would be in your notebook too. And that would make you lean over and kiss him on the lips ever so sweetly, mumbling something about how Jake was a bit disorganized about it and that Josie had the craziest big brother in the world.

“Jake” you called him, almost whispering.

“Sorry” he took a deep breath, trying to focus on what was happening. Rolling his eyes at the words Josie had said a few hours ago, he hastily jotted them down on the piece of paper he was holding “I have some fabrics she asked me for and about three types of flowers for the bouquet and table arrangements.”

“Really?” you walked over to him, leaning close enough to see the piece of paper. Jake held his breath for a few seconds so as not to inhale your perfume, but if he didn't breathe, he would surely die. Then you slowly let out your breath while looking at the top of your head “Do they both think we're ceremonialists?”

“Maybe so” Jake said quietly “but from what Josie said, it's because they both trust us so much that we chose this so carefully.”

They were words she would say. Trusting you and Jake to choose the small details without giving them into the hands of someone she's never seen. Even more so Josie, who had always planned her wedding down to the smallest detail since she was fifteen, back when she hadn't even dreamed of falling in love with Lee Heeseung.

“Which of these three do you think is Josie's favorite?” your eyes searched Jake's after reading the paper. At that moment, neither of you wanted to face each other with such intensity, so close together. But you didn't know that approaching him to read the list would result in being so close. Walking away abruptly at that moment would have been rude, although you had never cared whether it was like that or not with Jake.

He looked at you. Really looked. As he had done ever since he'd seen you for the first time, and it made you feel strange inside. You wanted to think that maybe it was the nervousness of being alone with him after such a long time, being assigned to tasks like being a bridesmaid.

“Dahlia?” he said.

“Was that a question?” you asked him back, raising an eyebrow when you saw the uncertainty in Jake's voice.

“Come on, she's your best friend.”

“And she's your sister.”

“So what?” Jake asked “I don't know what her favorite flower is, Y/n. I don't even know about flowers.”

A big lie, Jake understood. In parts. When the two of you started dating, he did a lot of research on the internet about flowers and their meanings, finding out about the orchid and what it represented. When he bought you your first bouquet of orchids, reciting why he had done it, that was when Jake saw you cry with joy and love for the first time since you two started dating.

And it was from that day on that you both called the orchid the flower of your relationship.

“Yes, you do” you whispered so that he wouldn't hear, you didn't want him to hear. For him to understand that you were thinking practically the same thing as him.

Having that moment of a few hours without a single argument was the result of many requests and practically an engaged couple begging you and Jake not to jump on each other for the sake of the wedding that was yet to take place. Josie knew you well enough to know your limits around Jake, just as she also knew how her brother would cope with being in your presence for so long. It had to be perfect, and it wouldn't be something from your and Jake's old relationship that would affect what she had always dreamed of.

“I'll find the decorations for the tables, can you see the flowers?” Jake just agreed with you as he continued down the aisle of baskets and trinkets for flower arrangements. Agreeing with what you were saying was something he had been practicing over the weeks as he was assigned to spend more time than necessary by your side.

Sometimes the two of you would go out with Heeseung and Josie, looking for things related to the wedding and everything that could be used for the big party. Jake saw how much Heeseung agreed with his fiancée and, with subtle comments, he managed to change her mind when she didn't agree with something. This could be the big key to why their relationship had worked so well from the start.

Where did I go wrong? Jake felt selfish for thinking so, knowing exactly where he went wrong. He didn't insist enough on a conversation, he didn't make you listen to him the way you should have and, as a result, almost a year went by with him being set up as a liar in your head. That's why he decided not to argue and just agreed when you asked or gave your opinion. He agreed with almost everything because he knew how good you were at decorating, not to mention the fact that he knew that you and Josie had talked about marriage for hours when you were still Jake's girlfriend. He remembers nights when he would play with Heeseung while the two of you watched dress fittings, giving your opinions on which one you would like to wear on the big day.

While his sister opted for more flashy things, with some stones and sparkles in the veil, you always chose the simple, strapless dress that accentuated the curves of your body and without too much lace because you didn't want something so big. This simplicity made Jake's eyes sparkle because he could clearly see you in a simple dress. Although all the beauty would turn to your face, no matter what you were wearing.

“Flowers, Jake. Focus on the flowers” he said to himself as he pushed a trolley through the aisles of the store. Memorizing the ones Josie had told him about as an option and going to where they all were.

He had to concentrate on that or he would go mad because there was no way not to have nostalgic thoughts when you were around without fighting with him. These moments were rare, but when they happened, Jake knew he wasn't the only one who thought like that.

Looking at the labels naming each flower, he wondered if it was really necessary. Whether Josie would be angry if he chose any of them instead of the three on that piece of paper because they were just flowers. A color that wasn't too flashy – the only thing Jake could think of was that his sister wanted everything in rosé and champagne tones – and the flowers could be light pink or white. If he got one of those colors, but it wasn't the one she wanted, would his sister be happy? He didn't want to risk that much, so he sighed heavily in search of a dahlia or any of the other two that were named.

Luckily, the white dahlias weren't that far away, and Jake managed to get just the right amount to show Josie and see if that was what she was going to take. Apart from taking a small bouquet, he would probably have to go back with Heeseung and pick up countless flowers just to put on the tables of so many guests he didn't even know his sister had invited.

Rolling his eyes at some of them, Jake gathered a good amount into a clumsy bouquet but organized enough to take to the cashier and pay. His eyes rolled over a few flowers until they stopped: the orchids. He didn't want his heart to race so much that he had to bite his lower lip to suppress a smile. Jake could go on for years without talking to you, but it would never leave his mind.

“You're an idiot, Jake Sim” he hated having the habit of talking to himself while he was in such an internal dilemma but taking just one orchid and hiding it under the bouquet of dahlias was necessary at that moment. He didn't know why he'd done it, but he knew he had to.

“Have you got the flowers yet?” your voice sounded a little louder than usual, at the exact moment when Jake put the flowers into the trolley and looked down the corridor in his direction. He just nodded, watching you approach with some things he couldn't even tell you what they were. Maybe not even you. But they were all named according to what the bride and groom wanted, so all was well and good.

“Do we need anything else?” Jake asked after you'd put everything in the trolley, not even bothering to check that the amount of flowers he'd picked up was correct. This made him sigh with relief, so he wouldn't have to explain why he'd picked up an orchid out of the blue.

“I think we got everything in this store” you said at last, turning away from Jake to look in your notebook and make sure you knew what you were talking about.

He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, run to Heeseung, and tell him what was going on. Or even ask his best friend to take his place on the next outing for the wedding stuff. Because if it went on like this, Jake didn't know if he could take it any longer.

The look on Josie's face could only indicate two things: either she was very nervous, or she had done something wrong. And considering that all the women were gathered in the living room of Mrs. Sim's house for the pre-wedding lingerie tea, maybe your friend was just nervous.

Looking at her for a while, you saw her say something to Susan and, when they both agreed on something before telling you, you could certainly suspect the second thought. This made your heart race because, if something had gone wrong, it was your job as godmother to fix it.

“What happened?” you quickly asked when the two of them approached, Susan looking around before glancing at you and then at Josie.

“Josie needs to tell you something” she said, and then you saw your sister-in-law and best friend open her mouth to say something, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted her.

Some women were arriving, Josie's friends from work, other family friends that Mrs. Sim and her mother had made a point of inviting. Everything would be very welcome if it meant getting things from people before her wedding, after all, Josie wouldn't deny any gifts. She also called some friends from college, and for some reason, your mind clicked so far ahead that you only realized what was happening when you saw her walk through the door.

Your stomach did such a somersault that you almost threw up the lunch you'd eaten with Susan before getting things ready for Josie at her mother's house. You thought the last time you'd see Stacy Joseph, the owner of the pink bow bra, would be in that hallway where you threw it at her and nearly broke her nose when you went to make amends. The last contact between the two of you was with Susan standing between you and her after you punched her in the nose, watching her bleed while you told her to swallow that stupid fabric. After that, you never saw her around the college campus, near anyone you knew or, worse, near Jake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Girls!” even her voice made you nauseous, and you wanted to ask yourself over and over again why Jake had chosen Stacy Joseph to be the pivot of the break-up and the reason for the betrayal between the two of you.

You remained silent the whole time she entered the house, left the gift package in the middle of the living room, and walked in the direction the three of you were heading. As a little dejavú, Susan stood next to you, almost between the two of you when Stacy got close enough to greet Josie.

“I'm so happy you're getting married, that's so cool” she hugged Josie so tightly, that you wanted to rip her out of her best friend's arms.

“Thank you for coming” she just replied, letting go of the hug and looking straight at you.

Stacy didn't say your name or Susan's, but the cordiality meant that she just nodded at you both in mute greeting.

“Y/n” Josie called your name, but your head was spinning and you looked like you were going to throw up. Her voice lingered in the back of your mind as you broke away from your friends and ran to Mrs. Sim's kitchen.

This couldn't be happening, not to you. For almost a year you had managed to forget what her face looked like, her voice, and even her presence, focusing your anger only on Jake because he was the only one you were around all the time. Now seeing her in front of you again, being invited to your sister-in-law's pre-wedding party… No, that was too much for you.

“Look Y/n, listen to me” Josie entered the kitchen, followed by Susan who looked at the two of you and then towards the entrance to the room, fearing that Stacy might follow them and, who knows, start an unnecessary argument “I heard she was coming a few hours ago, and it was because of your brother!”

“What do you mean?” you didn't want to look at her now, you didn't want to show how much this affected you. So your gaze went to the counter where your mother had placed drinks to be served when all the women had arrived. You didn't mind opening a bottle with the highest proof, grabbing a glass, and filling it halfway before downing it. “Shit.”

“Y/n” Josie was on the other side of the counter, right in front of you. Susan was next to her, looking at you too. “She started dating Haechan a few months ago, and since Heeseung invited him because he was on the soccer team… He asked if he could invite his girlfriend and—” she took a deep breath, feeling her eyes burn at how shaken you had been. When you filled the glass for the second time, Josie quickly took it and drank, just like you had done a few seconds before, feeling the burning sensation go down your throat. “Haechan didn't say her name or anything, otherwise I would have made an excuse.”

“No” you quickly said. “It's okay, it's just—”

“Besides, Jake didn't even cheat on you, but you don't want to hear that right now” Susan took the glass from Josie's hand, looking in your direction with a raised eyebrow. You felt your whole body ache just thinking about starting that debate again, how tired and upset you were to see your best friends siding with a traitor like Jake. No one had seen what you saw in his locker, so why not believe you?

“We found you three” Mrs. Sim entered the kitchen with an unusual excitement. She smiled at the three of you and didn’t notice the strange atmosphere that was there before she arrived “Have you gone to taste our drinks yet?” she laughed when she saw the glass in Josie’s hand and the open bottle in front of you. Your mother came in right after with one of her arms linked through Jake’s. And that’s when your legs went completely weak.

“What are you doing here, honey? It’s a women-only party” Mrs. Sim said as soon as she saw her son enter the kitchen with your mother. She seemed to be babbling about something he hadn’t even heard yet.

“I came to get my wallet and car keys” Jake said, but his gaze was on you the whole time. You felt that he was, even though you had looked away so as not to look at him at that moment.

“Then you can leave, there will only be women’s talk here” your mother let go of his arm for a second, “Things about panties, drinks, bras, and stuff.”

She and your mother laughed, you saw Josie’s smile slowly appear, as she searched for your gaze.

“About bras? Then Jake can stay” you murmured, “He loves that.”

Oh, no. It had been too long since the two of you had had an argument since the wedding preparations began. You looked up at him, seeing that Jake seemed unreadable with that expression. He had definitely seen Stacy in the living room because your mother was there welcoming people, so he must have seen her. Or worse, he must have heard Haechan talking about her when he arrived for the boys' party that was happening simultaneously at your house at that moment.

“I love bras? Is that what you're saying?” Jake scoffed, the sound making your whole body shiver. Josie and Susan looked at the situation nervously, trying to predict the next moves to try to intervene since your mothers were there. It would be the first argument in front of them.

“Of course” you smiled falsely, “With pink bows and everything.”

The sound around happened naturally, people talking loudly and walking from one side to the other. In the other room, it was easy to hear the laughter of the women who were eager to start the party. Your mother and Jake's mother picked up some bottles, paying attention to the two of you who were standing there staring at each other. While Josie, surreptitiously, walked to her brother's side to try to get him out of there.

“I hate bras” Jake made a small face when his sister approached “You must know that Y/n, because I took yours off every day.”

“Holy shit” Susan almost choked on her own saliva as she held back a laugh, even though the mood wasn't conducive to it. But your face was priceless because no one expected that answer from Jake. Not even you.

“What?” your mother looked at you two, astonished, although she didn’t need to explain to anyone what happened in a relationship. Even more so for as long as it had lasted with you and Jake. You two were adults, above all, and no one would interfere in that.

“Sorry” Jake quickly said, feeling Josie’s hand on his shoulders, gently pushing him out of the kitchen. “Have a good party, girls. See you later!” he felt his cheeks burning, even though he had given you a good answer, it was still in the presence of your mother and his mother, so Jake acted on total impulse.

Of course, he was nervous and scared when he saw Stacy in the living room of his mother’s house. He knew Haechan was dating someone, but no one knew who she was until she showed up. Jake knew he had a lot to tell Heeseung as soon as he got to his house for the boys’ party, but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering to the moment the two of you had in the kitchen. If Jake thought that this marriage would be peaceful, even with the problems, now he had just felt that it wasn't.

Three days until the wedding, where Josie and Heeseung would exchange vows, celebrate, and finally become part of the same family. She was so happy to know that her wishes were coming true, especially with someone like Heeseung. Who had always taken care of her since the first moment they were together. So planning and executing every little thing of that party didn't become a tiring job because, in the end, it made up for the joy of both of them.

And that was why you tried to ignore the discomfort in your chest every time you were around Jake – more than usual – after the meeting between the two of you at his parents' house. A whole week passed after that and you tried not to be around him alone for so long, even though you had to hurry to try on the dresses that your sister-in-law had set aside for the bridesmaid.

Going to the wedding dress store had to be a task done by you and Jake, together. But after that, you wanted to avoid him as much as he was trying to avoid you too. So you left your apartment without waiting for his ride, which was happening in the last few moments of every place you two went together. You went into the store and gave the bride's name, saying that there were some spares for you to try on in the color Josie had designated for you. The saleswoman, smiling and attentive, took you to the changing room so you could try it on and see how it would look on your body.

Being covered in a chic, pink, almost silk dress made you feel beautiful and desired. You knew Josie had that kind of taste. It was easy to trust her taste in clothes, but it wouldn't be an effort to try them on just to make her happy. Maybe you would keep the first one you put on anyway, but since there were five more on the hangers, you would need to put each one on. That way you could tell her why you had chosen one over the other.

“This way, Mr. Jake” the voice of the same saleswoman called down the hallway and you quickly straightened up, adjusting the second dress on your body when you heard footsteps walking in front of your door.

You ran to it and unlocked it, on impulse, just as the saleswoman was opening the door to the dressing room across from yours.

"Y/n? Are you here yet?" Jake was startled when he looked at you, but his eyes softened enough for him to make eye contact for a few seconds. You just nodded, looking away at the saleswoman.

“So you two are Josie and Heeseung’s godparents?” she asked.

“Yes” you and Jake said at the same time, her smile widening.

“Perfect” you said slowly. “Mr. Jake, your suits are in there as requested, and Ms. Y/n, did the dresses look good?”

“I’m still trying on the second one” you opened the door a little wider to show her. It wasn’t the silk of the first dress, but the lace and rhinestone trim gave a perfect glimpse of the curves of your hips. The saleswoman had a fond smile on her face, complimenting how beautiful you looked.

“It really does look beautiful” Jake blurted out, taking you and the saleswoman out of the small conversation you had both been having. Only then did he notice that the three of you were still standing in the hallway and that you were still wearing one of the dresses.

Your voice didn’t come out as a thank you, but you walked back into the dressing room and closed the door behind you before saying anything to him. Leaning your back against the cold wood and trying to normalize your heartbeat. Why did he have to say that as if nothing was happening?

In the time that followed, you tried to focus your attention on the other dresses and how the colors Josie had chosen were flattering to your skin tone and the color of your eyes. You felt more and more beautiful in each piece that slid over your body, the reflection in the mirror pleasing you more and more, making it practically impossible to choose a single piece that you could definitely choose. Going to the last dress, then, you decided to take off the one you were wearing and slide the fabric over your body.

Another silk, this time a little thinner, but not enough to be transparent. This one could have been designed for you because Josie knew you didn't want anything so flashy. You smiled to yourself after putting on the dress, turning your back to do up the zipper that was the only lock on the piece.

“Shit,” you grumbled when you saw it get stuck right at the beginning. “No, no, no…” despair began to take over your body. You couldn’t take off that dress or pull up the zipper and risk ripping something so expensive. Your mind raced to call the saleswoman quickly. She would be the only one who could help you with that zipper and would even be a good company to give advice to others who had doubts.

So yes, that’s what you would do. Holding the front of the dress with the straps hanging loosely on your shoulders, you walked to the door and unlocked it. Only sticking your head out and looking for the saleswoman. Not a soul passed by that hallway and you started to get a little scared because the only sound was footsteps coming from downstairs, where people were walking back and forth through the store.

The only sound that took you away from your thoughts of taking off your dress and giving up on trying it on was the click of the lock on the door in front of you. Jake had messy hair, adjusting his fly and the first four buttons of his white shirt open.

“Y/n?” he called you, finishing closing the zipper and running a hand through his hair to try to fix it a little. “I heard your door opening and I thought you were leaving, but— Are you okay?” he looked at you as soon as he stopped talking.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, admiring how handsome he looked even in that sloppy and unkempt way. You imagined how clumsy Jake was with formal and elegant clothes, especially since you were the one helping him with the tie knots since you had to learn because of Heeseung and your father.

“I think…” you sighed, not wanting to say it out loud. He almost scolded himself for knowing you so well and knowing that something was wrong, so he walked the few steps from his door to yours, stopping in front of you “I think my dress zipper got stuck.”

“Do you need help?” he asked. You nodded slowly and, without saying anything else, let him enter your dressing room and closed the door right after.

Jake could see how organized you were even with a larger amount of dresses than he had to try on pants and shirts. Everything was perfectly folded, some even already hanging on the hangers while the pants he tried on were on the floor and only the blazers were on the hanger because he couldn’t find a single one that he thought looked nice on him.

“Okay, what do I need to do?” he turned towards you, noticing the way you were holding the front of your dress for dear life.

“Can you try to pull up the zipper? Otherwise, we can call the saleswoman” you turned your back to him and Jake had to hold his breath a little. The amount of skin was too much for him to see, even though it wasn't an unfamiliar sight for him. But after so long having this kind of contact was something Jake wasn't expecting.

“Okay, okay,” he said more to himself, walking towards you when you threw all your hair to the side, leaving your back completely bare to him.

Jake’s fingers trembled uselessly when the tip of his index finger and thumb touched the zipper. Nothing more than that, because he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

“It’s not going to happen,” he said after forcing it a little, the zipper not moving.

“Try again, please” you asked. “This dress is perfect and I think your sister chose it because maybe it suits me better than the others.”

He didn’t want to admit that yes, that dress was perfect on you. Even if you weren’t dressed properly and you still had to close the zipper to see the final result, Jake didn’t need that to compliment you or find you beautiful in any outfit. Taking another step forward, Jake thought he could dare and listen to his instincts, or he simply wouldn’t have a chance of doing that anymore. So he muted any other voice in his head and listened only to what his heart was telling him to do. With his free hand, Jake grabbed your waist under the thin fabric of your dress. He had touched your skin before under some silk that you had worn during the years of your relationship, but nothing compared to the dress you were wearing now.

You tried to hold back any sound that might come out of your mouth as his hand slowly squeezed your hip, while the other tried to pull up the zipper of your dress. Jake seemed focused on that action that bent over enough for his breath to hit the back of your neck. His eyes traveled up the length of your back and saw your skin crawl with that simple gesture.

So he still had some effect on you.

It was too much information for him to process. Jake affects your body, the closeness of the two of you, and the even heavier atmosphere between you after Stacy's arrival. It was too much for him to process. Jake could never do anything rational under pressure, so he knew it would have a drastic consequence, he wouldn't stop trying.

Turning your body and pressing it against his chest, you didn't have a chance to swear at him. There was not even time to speak a single syllable when Jake's lips quickly sought yours. It was like an act of returning home, where he already knew the way and only needed those few seconds to have his lips on yours.

If Jake was being irrational about the whole thing, you weren't going to be the only thinking person or get in the way of what was happening. Part of you wanted it, although the other part of you disagreed with having the tip of Jake's tongue poking at your lower lip. With a low moan, you gave way and that was all he needed. To tangle his tongue in yours, to taste you in his mouth again while his hands ran down your hips and gripped your body as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it did because to go a whole time like that without feeling his lips, without sliding your teeth across his bottom lip or having your hands wrapped in his hair. Your body pressed against his while you moaned low against his mouth every time the kiss intensified. Jake missed that as much as you did. And seeing how intensely you were giving yourself to him was more than an answer to what he needed.

Walking towards the nearest table, careful not to ruin his clothes on the way, Jake leaned you against the wood without interrupting the kiss in the process. He didn't want to pull his mouth away from yours and even though you both needed air, he wanted to be able to breathe the air from your mouth if at all possible. His hands, still on your waist, slid all over your back, still uncovered by the fabric that wouldn't close at all. Thanks for the stuck zipper, he thought, running his hand up your spine until he tangled the fabric of the dress between his fingers.

Jake's mouth parted from yours just then, his forehead still pressed against yours and his eyes slowly opening to search for yours. A silent request as to whether he could go on with it or whether you were sorry and wanted him to leave the room.

Your hands found his and as if to help him, you pulled the loose fabric down your body, revealing your chest as all the silk bunched around your hips. His eyes shone brightly. Jake could tell it had all been worth it just from that sight. Your hands found his hair and he slid his lips down your neck as you spread your legs, beckoning him to snuggle in.

Jake ran his hands up the sides of your body, his thumbs finding your erect nipples and putting a fair amount of pressure there, just as his lips found your earlobe.

“Jake” you moaned his name, and that sound he missed so much. How slyly you used to moan his name.

“Yeah, baby?” he whispered against your skin, his hands gripping your breast a little more firmly before he released his lips from your neck and moved down to your collarbone.

Your voice gradually died away as Jake's mouth descended your skin in slow, wet kisses, his tongue tracing a teasing path down the middle of your breast. His breathing made a point of getting heavy with every line of saliva he left against your skin, the heat building there and intensifying between your legs.

“Fuck” you moaned as his tongue flicked across your nipple, the tip circling a few times before he took it all in his mouth. Sucking and making it even more sensitive with every warm touch of his tongue and the light scrape of his teeth on it. Jake's attention took turns on each of your breasts, leaving enough of a mark for you to remember him when you got dressed for the wedding a few days later. Or when you came home to take a shower, looking at your chest and the amount of hickeys he was leaving.

You arched your back and, with some difficulty, pulled the rest of your dress down to your feet to get rid of the fabric that was now bothering you so much. The amount of clothing was unbearable for you as Jake settled further between your legs, still sucking on your nipples.

“Jake, please” you practically begged him as he looked more and more hungry with his mouth on your nipple. Circling his tongue and letting go with a low, teasing pop, raising his face to meet yours.

“Do you want it as much as I do?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low, his lips red and shiny from the amount of saliva that had been smeared across your breast.

“I want it, very much” if he kept teasing you, you'd be pathetic enough to cry out for him and ask him to fuck you right there.

Fortunately Jake understood you so well and you knew he couldn't stand teasing you for so long, even more so with the hunger and thirst he'd been teasing and kissing you with minutes ago. He didn't want to waste any time, lifting his shirt over his head without bothering to remove the buttons, the zipper of his pants came down in seconds and he quickly removed the fabric along with his underwear. Jake didn't want to wait any longer.

He went back between your legs, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Caressing the soft skin he had felt for so long. Nostalgia washed over him with every touch, going down to your hips to grab the fabric of your panties, throwing them on the floor as quickly as he did his clothes.

“Y/n, we—” you kissed his lips, not letting him finish saying anything. You knew Jake would explain himself, say something to try and comfort you from what you'd felt for so long. But the heat of the moment demanded that he just be inside you. And that's what you did. Holding his cock and pumping slowly, you heard Jake moan against your lips, his brow furrowed as you rubbed the head of his cock against your pussy lips to gather the perfect amount of your juices.

Jake arched his hips against your hand, feeling his cock get wet with the union of your arousal and his pre-cum, without having to worry about preparing you or anything. It was also because of the rush you were both in to feel each other, but he wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you, and the way you were calmly taking it all in was driving Jake crazy.

“I don't want to hurt you” he whispered when you stopped teasing him and stopped rubbing the head of his cock all over your pussy. Jake's cock was already wet enough and you were already more than lubricated, he wasn't going to hurt you.

“You won't hurt me, I promise” you whispered with your lips close to his, without kissing him, waiting for Jake to take the next step between the two of you.

As if it were a communication just by looking, as soon as Jake leaned his forehead against yours, he understood that it had to be done. So you thrust your hips slowly, feeling your entrance suck the head of his cock. Just the tip penetrating you was enough to make you moan, pressing your lips against Jake's and bending your body over the table. He wrapped his arms around you, gripping your body between his arms, afraid that you would run away at that moment. Afraid that everything you were both experiencing would be thrown away and that maybe it was Jake's dream, where he dozed off in the fitting room opposite yours, idealizing what was happening.

But no, it was all real. He was slowly penetrating you, gripping your body between his arms and feeling your arms around his neck, as if you needed to steady yourself just by hugging him.

Reaching the bottom, with his cock completely inside you, Jake didn't let go of your embrace. He moved his hips slowly, withdrawing his cock and leaving just the tip inside you, only to return slowly and intensely until his cock was inside your pussy. The movement of your hips became constant, and the sound of the moans that the two of you shared in whispers gave the moment even more intensity. Jake was careful not to go too fast and hard because the way you squeezed his cock showed how sensitive your pussy was to receiving him back.

“You don't know…” Jake sucked a moan from your mouth, pressing his forehead to yours when a particularly intense movement hit you, making the head of his cock touch your spongy spot and your walls tighten around it. Jake could have sworn he was going to come right then and there, but he had to stop himself, he didn't want to finish yet “You don't know how much I've missed this… How much I've missed you.”

Your fingernails scratched Jake's shoulder blades, making the thrust forceful as his skin burned a little. You bit his lower lip, stopping yourself from moaning loudly so that the whole store could hear the two of you. Your legs wrapped even tighter around Jake's moving hips, giving him no room to pull away for even a second.

“I've missed you, Jake” your hips were now moving along with his, but slowly, while Jake was intensifying his thrusts, wanting you to feel every moment of his cock moving in and out of you. Withdrawing his cock slowly and putting it back in just as slowly, going hard only at the end so that the head of his cock touched your cervix or you felt every rise in your walls with his size “I've missed you so much.”

Jake could cum with the intensity of your gaze, your fucked-up expression, and how you moaned his name as you said those things. He knew that anything you did while he had his cock buried in you was a reason for him to come, and he didn't want to hold back any longer.

With a silent request, Jake kissed your lips and moved his hands down between your bodies in the small space you left between the two of you. His fingers soon found your clitoris and he circled it at the same speed as his cock moved in and out of you.

You could see stars with the double sensation, your body writhing between Jake's arms as his thrusts began to pick up speed. He was close to cumming and you weren't much different, you knew him well enough for that. You both knew each other's bodies that well.

“I need you to cum with me, please” Jake asked against your lips, his cock driving in a little harder, along with his fingers circling your clit a little faster.

Without the strength to say anything, you just agreed and continued to move your hips so that you were in sync with Jake and what he was doing. Your hands grabbed his hair, keeping Jake's mouth close enough to yours and catching his tongue between your lips. Sucking on his tongue with the same intensity as your pussy swallowed his cock was divine, Jake was losing count of how many times he came with this sensation. Being swallowed by your pussy and your mouth sucking his tongue just like you used to suck his cock.

He could hear you moaning his name in a muffled way, your lips around the tip of his tongue and your pussy swallowing more and more of him. A precise circle on your clit along with his cock moving in and out was enough to make the knot in your stomach burst. Your pussy convulsed, and your walls fluttered around his entire length, cumming all over Jake's cock. The heat of your pussy, the oozing of your cum, and the way you moaned his name over and over were too much for him to bear, and not a second later Jake's jets of hot, thick cum spurted into your pussy.

His thrusts became more and more erratic and sloppy as he still came inside your completely fucked pussy, pushing his cum that threatened to fall out of your hole by the amount he had cum in so long. You were still sensitive and the overstimulation wasn't bad, although you felt like crying at the way Jake still kept his cock in you, moving in and out until your pussy milked the last drop out of him.

Jake rested his hands on either side of your body, next to your hips on the table. With his cock still inside you and his body still between your legs. He opened his eyes slowly to find your face calm and serene, your expression a little more relaxed than before.

“Jake…” you whispered, not wanting him to pull away from you.

“Yes?” he said in the same tone, one of his hands coming up to push your hair out of your face. He shifted his gaze down your body, the sheen of the light layer of sweat forming against your skin, your hips still joined without the strength to separate. The skin of his chest covered by the marks of his mouth made him smile with satisfaction at his work.

“Can we stay like this for a few minutes?” your request made his heart race, even though it had been racing since the first second you two kissed in that fitting room.

“As long as you want” he moved a little closer, giving you a small kiss on the forehead before placing his forehead against yours. Not wanting to leave your side even after the post-orgasm sensation had passed.

The rest of the days passed like a blur, and not because you or Jake were avoiding each other after what happened. But because time got too short it seemed like more things were happening until the big day. You and he didn't seem to mind each other's presence while you had to sort things out, the tiredness of the final preparations giving way to each other's bodies while all you could think about was getting it over with.

You could breathe a sigh of relief after walking in with Jake at Josie and Heeseung's wedding, listening to the whole ceremony in silence and admiration. Smiling at the vows of the two newlyweds and holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Finally, it was over and you could proudly say that you had been a great godmother. That your brother and sister-in-law had been right to appoint you and Jake to that role.

Now, enjoying the post-wedding party was the only thing on your mind. The glass was freshly filled with booze for the fourth time, the empty hand resting on Susan's shoulder as she hugged Josie's waist, humming the song that was playing throughout the huge hall. This is what you three thought it would be like. Drunk, happy, and laughing as you remember how you met. The time you shared and how much your friendship meant to each other.

“Even though Y/n is my sister-in-law now” Josie swallowed a drunken sob, smiling as she pulled you into a hug with Susan “you two will always be my heart sisters.”

“Is that supposed to make us sentimental?” Susan asked.

“Is it working?” Josie retorted.

It might work because you all already had a fair amount of alcohol in your system, considering how long you'd been here after the ceremony. You still spent time with Heeseung, congratulating your brother and warning him to take good care of Josie. Although he was your brother, your brotherhood with her was strong enough for you to take her away from their house, which hadn't even been furnished yet. With Susan's help, the two of you would take Josie away without a second thought in case Heeseung did something to her. Even though you knew it would never happen.

After a few minutes of exchanging warm, sentimental words, laughing until your belly ached, and refilling your glasses, the three of you broke away from the hugs to go around the party in search of something different for the next few minutes before meeting up again. Josie would go after Heeseung or your mother because she wanted to talk to her new daughter-in-law. Susan would go after Sunghoon, for sure. She missed her boyfriend, who would probably be hanging around the party clutching Heeseung's tie and collecting funny nicknames for the newlywed. Your mind immediately wandered to Jake, thinking that you could go after him and just talk about what happened, maybe. But your feet were killing you enough that you didn't even consider the idea of going out, so you walked over to the nearest table to sit down.

“Can I join you?” your gaze lifted to the person in front of you, smiling when you noticed Haechan's presence.

“Sure, join me” he smiled back at you, taking off his blazer and putting it on the back of his chair before sitting down. You could tell by the lazy sound that came from his lips how exhausted he looked.

“Getting around with your brother and Sunghoon wasn't an easy task” he grumbled, his fingers lightly massaging his left temple as he looked around. Looking for one of his friends or even his girlfriend.

“Are they giving you much trouble?” you asked.

“Enough that Sunghoon and Jake made him almost undress three times” Haechan said, making you laugh.

“Hey, I didn't do anything like that!” the defense in Jake's voice took you by surprise, and both you and Haechan looked in the direction of the slowly approaching voice. At the beginning of the party, Jake looked impeccable. His hair, which he had let grow – because Josie had asked him to, wanting his brother to have an impeccable hairstyle for her wedding – had been slicked back with a little gel, and was now disheveled and messy. The first two buttons of his shirt were open and Jake's tie was completely loosened, but still around his neck. The typical scene of how relaxed he was, but not to the point of getting drunk like you were starting to.

“You'll have to fight with your sister if her husband gets naked in front of everyone” Haechan defended, having his train of thought interrupted by him making Jake laugh. The sound of laughter calmed every cell in your body.

You noticed that he was a little more relaxed, smiling at some of the things Haechan said to him while you switched off a little. Your focus was now on the heel you were trying to take off and how much your feet might scream if they could talk. Without much delay, you unbuckled your heels and took them off, leaving them in a corner under your chair.

“But seriously, this wedding is just the way you two wanted it, isn't it?” your attention returned to the two boys talking right in front of you. Jake slyly pulled out a chair to sit next to you and his gaze ran down to where you were futilely trying to massage your feet.

“In every detail” he smiled at Haechan “Heeseung tries to deny that it was all my sister's doing, but we know he wanted it that way too” seeing how much Jake knew your brother was very gratifying, to know that someone understood him as much as you did.

At some point in the conversation, you found yourself looking between the two of them as they talked about how nice it was to be friends with Heeseung. At the time in college when Haechan wanted to join the soccer team and almost didn't get accepted because he had missed the time to introduce himself to the boys. Jake had his full attention on him, listening to every word while his hands thought differently, running down your calf until they caught your ankle. Without saying a word to you and without looking in your direction, he picked up your foot and placed it on his lap. The fingers lightly squeezing the sole of your foot almost made you moan at how good it felt, how much you needed that silent massage from Jake.

“One relationship I also admire is the two of you” Haechan pointed at you and Jake. Your eyes quickly met his for a split second, Jake's fingers stopped just as Haechan smiled, and then he went back to massaging your feet.

“Why?” Jake asked for you, knowing that his concentration was on the pain that was leaving, and how his body was slightly tense from the question.

“Because even after you broke up, you two carried on as friends” Haechan sounded dreamy as he said that little bit of admiration, even if it wasn't true. That the image you and Jake passed on to your friends was false, because you and he weren't friends, you never were. The war footing you two were on was hell on earth and neither of you knew how you were surviving until the present moment “I don't know if I'd be able to be friends with Stacy if the two of us broke up.”

There was a brief pause when Haechan spotted one of his friends with two glasses in his hand. He asked for one, even though the guy wasn't a waiter, but he smiled and handed it to him, asking if you and Jake wanted one too. Denying it and thanking you both, Jake smiled at him and let Haechan take a good sip of his drink.

“How long have you and Stacy been together?” Jake asked, not knowing the origin or the reason for all this. Maybe it was to get away from the attention his friend had given to your relationship, but he just wanted to deflect it and do everything he could to keep you away from him.

“Since college” he replied, taking another sip of his drink “our relationship is a little crazy.”

Jake knew you were looking at him at that moment, he could feel the weight of your gaze almost smoking on the back of his neck while his gaze was on Haechan.

“Tell me about it, I never knew” Jake prodded.

You didn't know why he was doing it. Whether it was to torture you for talking about Stacy so freely in front of him or whether he wanted to talk to Haechan, who barely knew that you had almost broken his girlfriend's nose in college.

“Well, we started going out after a fraternity party, it wasn't anything serious at first” he shrugged, the unfinished drink in his glass now playing between his fingers and a small smile on his lips.

Haechan talked about his and Stacy's relationship carefully, as if the image she had made of herself to him was a version you had never met. But then your ears perked up a little more when he got to a particular moment in the story.

“Dude, I… Y/n, do you mind if I say that?” Haechan looked at you, noticing that the story was taking a turn that only boys could be interested in.

“Not at all” you tried to smile at him, almost grimacing at the way it had come out “I'm just focusing on my massage” you pointed downwards where Jake's hands were still occasionally squeezing your feet. He laughed and continued, looking at Jake this time.

“I went crazy when we started dating because Oliver talked about Stacy's fame and for the first few weeks I wanted to prove whether it was true or not.”

Stacy's fame in college was her cute lingerie, the famous – and hated by you – pink bow bra. It wasn't necessarily fame because she made a point of showing part of her bra with a tank top during training and it had even been proven by those who slept with her. It wouldn't be a fame if they already had proof.

“When I saw it, I made a point of… spicing up our relationship at the beginning, to prove that she wanted it and that it wasn't the same with everyone.”

“And how did you get her to prove it?” Jake asked Haechan.

“Oh, you know” he leaned back in his chair, stretching as much as he could and almost yawning, but he wasn't sleepy enough for that “I asked her to leave a bra in my closet on the day of the game.”

Jake was the first to make eye contact with you as if he'd expected that answer or any reaction to it. Your eyes sought his and, a few seconds later, you looked at Haechan.

“What day was that?” you asked “I mean… what game?”

“The last friendly we had against the University of the South” he looked nostalgic as he recalled one of the last games he'd played in a university shirt “I told her to leave it in my locker and then we'd celebrate under the shower, you know.”

You didn't know what it was like because you were disgusted to do anything in the university's men's locker room, but that didn't stop you from finding Jake and going home with him to celebrate. That's how you ended up in the locker room on that fateful day.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Haechan asked after a while. He was still talking to Jake about something you didn't even know you wanted to hear right now, your mind was racing. If Stacy had done that in Jake's locker, what story had she told Haechan to make him think he was the only one who had received a pink bow bra in his locker?

“Excuse me” you asked, taking your feet off Jake's lap so quickly that he didn't even have time to hold you or ask where you were going.

A lot of questions were running through your mind at that moment, for example, how Stacy was managing to cope with a lie that she maintained even after the encounter you two had? Even after you hit her and cursed at her even though she was dating Haechan after everything. While you maintained that Jake was the liar in all this, the big liar was there all along.

You didn't know what you were doing, but the next thing you knew, your feet were leading you in the direction where Stacy was. Near the bar and away from the many people at the party, she was chatting with Susan and Sunghoon as if she had been friends with them for years. Although you knew that your friend and her boyfriend were very polite, you didn't like the closeness she was trying to force.

“Hey, Y/n” Sunghoon was the first to see you coming, his smile showing the fangs that you heard Susan sigh almost all the time. He waved at you without a response, only to see you advance towards Stacy as soon as you got close enough.

“You slut!” your hands grabbed the fabric of her dress, almost tearing it with how hard you were squeezing.

“Let me go, you're hurting me” she whimpered, feeling your nails dig a little deeper into her skin as you gripped her dress even tighter.

“So you've been lying all this time, have you?” you pushed her away when you felt Susan's hands pulling at you, wanting to push you away from Stacy, but unable to put that much force into your actions. She was drunk enough not to be able to separate you as she normally did. Then she looked in Sunghoon's direction, searching for some kind of help.

“Lied about what?” she asked.

“Don’t play dumb!” you yelled, but your voice couldn’t be heard the way you wanted to by the people around you, only Stacy and Susan were able to hear how loud you were talking because of how close you were. “That day at the game, Jake’s locker. Tell the truth, you slut—”

Sometimes you had the slight impression that your brother arrived at the worst times, like in a suspenseful scene from your favorite series, or when you and your mother wanted to listen to the neighbors’ fights and Heeseung slammed the door right when one of them told you something very important. And like now, when you were about to live the nostalgic moment of punching Stacy right in the nose, but your brother’s hands were quick enough to grab you and pull you away from her.

“What’s going on?” he asked, standing between the two of you and facing you “Hey, sis, look at me.”

“Let me go or I’ll finish her off.”

“You’re not going anywhere” Heeseung said. His eyes searched for something behind you and when he found it, you didn’t even need to turn around to know that Sunghoon had gone after Jake and Josie.

“What’s going on here? Are you okay?” Josie asked as she looked at Heeseung and you, but when her eyes landed on Stacy, some of her sobriety returned. She knew that this could happen at the party and was already preparing for some argument between the two of you, she just didn’t know it would be practically halfway through the night.

“I… I was at the bar talking to Susan and Sunghoon when Y/n arrived and—”

“Oh, for God's sake, stop your shitty little act” you snapped, almost advancing on her if it weren’t for Heeseung’s strength still holding you in place. Your brother didn’t move an inch until Jake took his place, standing in front of you and holding you. On another occasion, you would be cursing him and not wanting Jake to touch you, but seeing him there at that moment seemed to make all the difference.

“Stacy, love, what’s going on here?” when she heard Haechan’s voice, Stacy seemed to freeze in place. She looked at him with wide eyes and rapid breathing, perhaps even more than before when the two of you almost argued.

She found herself between a rock and a hard place now, maintaining that lie was no longer hers and she knew that sooner or later it should have been said. Stacy just didn’t know why it had taken so long.

“I… I think I did something wrong and…” you couldn’t swallow her fake crying and the sobs that threatened to come out of the girl’s lips who, with the help of her boyfriend, took a step forward to tell the whole story to your friends.

Hearing all of that from the point of view of the one who had caused you the most pain only made your blood boil even more. You – and the entire campus – knew how much Stacy always bragged about getting with every guy she wanted, with only Heeseung and Sunghoon being the only ones under the radar, she wanted to be content with that. But when she found out that Jake, besides being on the soccer team, was coveted for dating the team captain's sister… Oh, she wanted him. It was impossible to get him, but she would do anything to try anything and get with Jake at least one thing. It was then that she had the brilliant idea of ​​replicating Haechan's wish.

The friendly match against the southern university was packed, with everyone on campus stopping to watch the match and cheer for the team. You and your friends weren't much different, wanting to see the boys and supporting them at all costs. Unfortunately, Stacy heard how lovingly you told Jake that you would wait for him after the game in the locker room to get his things and go home.

“Can you get my shirt from my locker? I left it open, you can wear it, it's for good luck in my game today. Then I want to take you out of here” his locker would be open, and fitting like a glove, Haechan's idea could serve Jake at that moment. Stacy would put her bra in his locker, let you think whatever you wanted and then she would go on with her life as if nothing had happened. She did that and took off the bra she was wearing to put in Haechan's locker, so she wouldn't waste time because she didn't know if you would throw the fabric away or if you would confront her. She found herself in the unfortunate decision of having the latter option two days later.

“You already got revenge on me for that day and I apologize to you.” Stacy felt her eyes burning, she was embarrassed for being caught and confronted at a wedding party she didn’t even know why she had gone to. She thought that not telling him she was Haechan’s girlfriend would be the best choice to see the faces of familiar people once again since no one had kept in touch with her besides her boyfriend.

“Did you get revenge on her? What did you do?” Jake looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, doubt in his expression, and his lips in a cute pout. If it weren’t for the current situation, you would have kissed him for sure.

“I didn’t do anything” you said softly, just so he could hear. But Stacy didn’t listen, so she kept talking.

“She hit me in the hallway of the north block a few days later” she sighed “Almost broke my nose.”

“What?” Sunghoon shouted in surprise “So our last fraternity party… The injury on your nose…”

“It wasn’t a cheerleader stunt” she continued.

A short silence fell between you all, only the music of the party and Stacy’s small sobs could be heard. You could notice how much Josie was trying to calm the situation and disperse the people so that everyone could enjoy the rest of the party.

Your gaze went up to Jake’s face and he was expressionless now. The astonishment that had taken over had given way to a neutral look, but it contained something that you couldn’t identify. Remorse? Fear? Anger?

“Jake…” you called him without knowing why you were doing that. He was still looking at you with the same expression, not even softening at the sound of your voice.

“Can we talk later?” he asked, his tone serious, but somehow trying to sound a little calm for your liking “I’ll take you home and then we can talk, okay?”

There was no way you could insist or say no, just accept it because you didn't even know why you wanted to talk to him at that moment. Everything had hit you like a blow, and just like you, Jake might need some time to cool down and talk to you at the end of the party.

Waving slowly, you watched him walk away as Haechan pulled Stacy away and the others walked through the party until it was just you and him left there. Or just you, as soon as Jake walked away and walked to the bar to get something to drink. So, you allowed yourself to release all the air you were holding, refusing to cry after reality hit your mind and heart.

You believed a lie for all that time. And there was no going back now.

Jake tried to loosen his grip on the steering wheel, but his firm grip on the leather showed how nervous he still was. Spending the rest of the party brooding over everything that had happened, in addition to seeing how shaken you were by it all, made him feel even worse. He thought he would be fine after you heard that he had never cheated on you, that you had believed a lie… But he didn't feel good. Jake seemed to feel even worse after seeing how bad you were.

That was why, when he guided you to the car to take you home after the party was over, he preferred to stay quiet and let you be quiet too. The whole drive was in complete silence, with the only sounds being the car engine and the city's movements in the early morning. Occasionally Jake would look in your direction to see if you had fallen asleep or if you were okay, checking on you or waiting for you to look at him too. The only time your eyes met his was when you pulled up to your apartment, Jake turning off the car engine as soon as he parked in the parking lot of your building.

He didn't have to ask if you wanted him to come with you, because you got out first and left the keys with him, as a silent request that he could go up with you. And Jake did just that. From the hallways of the building to the elevator, going to your floor in the most absolute silence. Maybe even more than when the two of you were inside the car.

He turned the keys when you both reached your door, letting you enter first and leading the way in the small darkness that formed inside your apartment. After locking the door, Jake took off his shoes and threw his blazer next to the hanger by the door to make himself a little more comfortable as he followed you to the kitchen still without saying a word.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Jake asked for the first time since the two of you left the party after the wedding. Your eyes followed his figure who was standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the wood as he looked in your direction.

“I think…” you sighed, looking around after Jake held your gaze. Feeling a little shy from the intensity with which he was looking at you “I’ll make some coffee and…”

“I’ll make the coffee” Jake interrupted you slowly “Go upstairs and put on something more comfortable” he tried to sound a little softer with you, but there was still a hint of seriousness in his voice that you recognized. A palpable tension that he finally had the whole truth exposed, he just didn’t know how to act after all.

You wouldn't deny it, especially since your feet were almost killing you from the pain from the moment you took off your heels in the middle of the party. You definitely wanted to take off that silk from your clothes, even though they were so comfortable that you danced all night without worrying. But at that moment, your body just needed other fabrics. So you quickly went to your room, passing by Jake without looking at him because you knew that if that happened, there would be no way to go back or simply remember to change your clothes.

As soon as you got to your room, the first thing you did was slide the dress down your body and leave it lying anywhere on the floor. The air blowing against your almost naked skin was a soothing balm for everything you had witnessed in the last few hours. When you got to the bathroom, looking at your appearance in the mirror, Jake's idea of ​​taking a shower didn't seem so bad after all. Turning on the shower and letting the water run wasn't a thought you were reluctant to do, it had to be done. Getting all the dirt, sweat, and exhaustion off your body, both for the fun and for the mix of sensations and how sore and tired you felt. The pain in your feet went away as you squeezed them – not as gently as Jake did – with the help of the soap and hot water. Everything goes down the drain minutes later: dirt, tiredness, and a bit of sadness.

Quickly drying yourself, you grabbed a pair of old sweatpants that belonged to Heeseung and that you never let him take possession of. They belonged to you since the day you put them on by mistake at your parent's house when you and he still lived there since then those pants became yours and no one would say otherwise. For the top, the only comfortable thing you could wear was a sports bra. Without the clinging fabric of a t-shirt on your torso, you wanted something breathable and that would make you feel freer, this was perfect.

“Time to take off my makeup” you muttered to yourself after you had finished changing properly, looking in the mirror to find your mascara slightly smudged and the red lipstick already coming off your lips. You remembered the tireless hours you spent with Josie and Susan at the beauty salon that same day, in the early hours of the morning. Not even thinking that you would have to take it off at the end of it all, ending up with a beautiful job, even though you felt like you couldn’t keep your makeup on for so long.

Taking the cotton and the makeup remover, you moistened the cute object to wipe your face and, before doing so, looked at your reflection once more. Something in your mind made you think of everything besides the time you had taken to put on your makeup and get ready for the wedding. That had been the makeup for your brother and sister-in-law’s most important day, but it was also with that makeup that you faced the biggest event of your life. With that mascara on your eyes, you were able to witness the lies that Stacy had told you for so long. It was with that lipstick on your lips that you cursed her, and with all that makeup on you stared at people and saw Jake's gaze on you all night. Without being able to decipher, what he was feeling.

Everything, at that moment, was a shock and you only realized that you were crying and looking at your reflection when your vision blurred and you heard Jake calling you in the background. His hurried steps through the room before Jake's figure stopped right at the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” the desperation in your tone, the look in Jake’s eyes as he turned you around, making you face him. This made you cry even more. Your mouth opened and closed to say something, but nothing came out, just silent sobs as you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “Hey… What happened?” he asked again.

“I just—” you sobbed again “I ruined everything.”

Jake’s hands found their way to your waist in a matter of seconds, bringing your body close to his in just enough space for him to tilt his face and be close to yours. Without saying a single word, he looked deep into your eyes, letting you shed as many tears as you thought necessary. His fingers held tightly to your skin and, with a small push, he picked you up and placed you sitting on the bathroom counter.

“Ruined what, exactly?” he asked, taking the cotton from your hand. Jake wet the makeup remover again and straightened up between your legs to take off your makeup for you. A few days ago, this position between the two of you yielded something beyond what was happening, and butterflies in your stomach hit you at the thought of it. But there he was, with the utmost sweetness and affection, carefully passing the cotton pad over the entire length of your face. Completely the opposite of what he had done to you last time.

“Us” you answered when Jake passed the cotton pad over one of your eyes, forcing you to close it so he could remove the mascara. You heard him sigh right in front of you, the air blowing against your face due to Jake’s proximity to you.

The silence that settled between you was strangely comfortable. Now and then your sobs could still be heard as you tried to normalize your breathing and stop crying. Jake was completely focused on wetting the cotton pads, removing your makeup, and making sure you were clean and comfortable enough. Once everything was over and he threw the rest of the things in the trash, he remained with his body still between your legs.

“You didn’t ruin us” he finally replied, his hands resting on your thighs instead of touching the marble of the bathroom sink. Jake’s fingers, although blocked by the sweatpants you were wearing, were a warm and comfortable touch. Something you missed and only realized the last time the two of you had a little more contact.

“Of course” your eyes burned again and your vision became blurry again. Jake’s figure in front of you was like a blur when you felt like you were going to cry again. “I spent all this time thinking that you—”

He knew what you would say, but he didn’t want to hear it out loud. It was a past completely behind him, one that Jake didn’t want to dig up and much less make you remember. So the only way for it to end was when he touched your lips with his. A soft kiss, placing his mouth on yours and slowly sliding the tip of his tongue along your lower lip. It didn't take long for your passage to be accepted, letting him guide the kiss while one of his hands came up to hold your face. He held you in his hands with such care, kissing you and making you feel every little touch.

That should have calmed you down, but it made you shed the tears that still insisted on appearing. Jake felt each one of them between the kiss you shared, each time softer and slower, the movement of your tongues in sync as he let you feel each small slide of his mouth against yours. When you both needed to compose yourself, Jake pulled his lips away from yours enough so that you could both breathe. Still keeping your mouths closed and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“You know what?” Jake said, still breathless and a little hoarse. You just murmured in agreement, letting him continue his train of thought “When we started dating, one of the first things Heeseung told me was that you were the most stubborn person I would ever meet in my life.”

“Really?” you opened your eyes in shock, staring at Jake who was still between your legs. His lips reddened and smiling at you.

“Really” he kissed your lips once more, his hand still on your face caressing your cheek and sliding his thumb to your lower lip “What happened in that locker room was shitty and I don’t blame you for feeling that way. I just…” he took a deep breath, his hands finding their place back on your waist. “I needed time until I made you listen to me. I would never rest until I knew I would never do that to you.”

It was your turn to pull Jake into a soft kiss, just to feel his mouth against yours again. The slow, calm slide of his mouth against yours before you pulled away.

“Do you forgive me for being so stubborn? For wasting our time?”

“I have nothing to forgive you for, baby” Jake took a few steps back, his mischievous smile making your heart race a little faster than usual. “By the way, I have something for you.”

“For me? What is it?” you asked.

“I’ll be right back” Without giving you a chance to answer, Jake ran out of the bathroom, leaving you still sitting on the sink counter. You decided to go downstairs and walk to your room, trying to think of what he could have for you. It couldn’t be coffee, because the cup he brought was resting on the nightstand on your side of the bed. Running to the bathroom while you were crying made him completely forget about the drink there, maybe it had even gone cold. You didn’t care, after all.

Jake’s footsteps were heard on the other side of the door and, before you could walk a little further and open it, he did it himself. One hand was hidden behind his back as he entered your room.

“What’s all this suspense, Jake Sim?” you raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical about all the mystery surrounding the two of you. Jake chuckled softly, walking slowly but nervously towards you until he stopped right in front of you.

“I bought this because I knew I could give it to you one day” he said softly, not quite a whisper, but his tone was still soft. Jake’s eyes were focused on every corner of your face, wanting to convey a little of everything the two of you had shared so far. Or at least try to understand a little of the emotion he felt after everything that had happened.

He pulled away until he showed you what he was holding and, as soon as you saw the only orchid he had between his fingers, you almost cried for the third time that night.

“Jake…”

“It was the flower of our relationship, I—” he held it out to you, letting you take it and smell it as you always did with every orchid he gave you over the years. The characteristic smile that showed you were truly surprised, but without a single word to express what you were feeling. While your free hand went to his face and caressed Jake's cheek, the skin against your fingers so soft “I bought it the day we went to see things for my sister. I thought I could give it to you at some point.”

“Did you think it would be soon?” you asked.

Jake took a step forward, getting close enough to be able to hug your body with his.

“I didn't think so, but I hoped it would be. I couldn't stand being away from you anymore with all these wrong and poorly explained things” he huffed, his forehead pressed against yours when Jake's head leaned forward to get even closer to your face. You allowed yourself to laugh for the first time since you had arrived home, holding the flower tightly in one hand, while the other still held Jake's face.

“So go take a shower, take off those wedding clothes, and stay with me in bed all night.”

“Just tonight?” Jake asked, pouting. Which didn't last long because you broke it with a quick kiss.

“As long as you want…”

“I think my whole life is perfect for me” he shrugged, kissing you once more before pulling away and quickly taking off his white shirt. Both because of the shower he was looking forward to taking and because of the lack of contact with you.

Jake wanted to make up for lost time and everything you two didn't experience because of the lies that surrounded you, him, and your relationship. A silent promise that, even if you were stubborn, you would never stop believing in him again.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[sailorrhansol]

Amnesia | c.sc (m)

❀ Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f. reader

❀ Summary: Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 

❀ Word Count: 11,920

❀ Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers 

❀ Type: Smut, Angst if you squint 

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Recreational drinking, mild jealousy from both reader and Cheol, themes of self doubt/relationship doubt, light depictions of anxiety regarding ambiguous relationships, explicit language, Cheol and reader are both idiots, explicit sexual content including oral (f. and m. receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple stim, breath play if you squint, unprotected vaginal sex, a lot of bodily fluids like spit and cum, multiple smut scenes, hair pulling, light spanking, sub-space adjacent feelings, being a lil silly goofy during sex sometimes, stupid ass nicknames at the end because I’m a millennial and I’m cringe sometimes. 

❀ A/N: This was absolutely not what I originally imagined when I wrote this fic - it was supposed to be angsty and frustrating and a lot of back and forth and instead I wrote two fucking idiots who obviously like one another just being down bad. I don’t know how or why I got here, but here we are. Also - Jeongcheol coming out with billiards content after I posted the teaser for this is fucking sENDING me, thank you for making Pool Shark Seungcheol canon. 

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

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DAY ONE

You’re a goner as soon as you lay eyes on him. You know it before Jeonghan properly introduces you, shouting over the rock music that is blaring in the dive bar you like to hang out at on Friday nights. The neon from the sign creates a blue silhouette around Seungcheol as he smiles and holds a hand out to you. You can barely pull yourself together to shake his hand - warm, firm - too busy staring at his face. 

Choi Seungcheol is what your best friend Vin likes to call pretty motherfuckin handsome. He’s got dark, warm eyes that light up playfully when they meet yours, full lips the color of crushed rose petals, a square, firm jawline and silky dark hair that falls in his eyes when he tilts his face down to hide a smile at something Jeonghan says. 

Crushed against the wall of the booth, you feel the cold glass of your beer warm against your palms as you steal glances at Seungcheol. He’s directly across from you, angling his broad shoulders to fit snug into the corner of the booth, lounging backward as he observes the argument brewing between Joshua and Jeonghan. 

He even dresses well. Fitted t-shirt paired with light wash jeans and boots, a fancy watch reflecting the burning neon on the wall next to him, delicate chain necklaces tucked into the collar of his shirt. 

It’s the way he wears them that speaks to you, though. 

“Do they do this often?” his deep voice drags you from your reverie. You blink, gathering yourself when you realize he’s leaning forward a little, addressing you. He sips his beer before tilting the tip of the bottle toward Jeonghan and Joshua. “It’s like they're married.”

“You have no idea. Wait until game night.” 

“Oh yeah. Jeonghan told me about game night.” Seungcheol’s mouth twitches in a smile. “You’ll be there?” 

“Every Sunday. Do you like games?” 

Something about the glint in his eye makes your stomach flip. You sip your beer just to give you something to do, feeling more drunk off the easy confidence he exudes as he shrugs. “Depends on the game. I’m competitive.” 

“So am I.”

He grins. “I look forward to it, then.” 

Warming up to Seungcheol is easy. He’s the new hire at Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s office, and they both felt confident enough to bring him into the fold. You can see why - he’s kind and funny, and there’s a charm to him that draws the people around him like moths to a flame. Even with just the four of you sitting in the booth, you feel the magnetism. 

Friday nights at Rusty’s has been a tradition with Jeonghan and Joshua since you had been in college, filling yourself on five dollar wings, three dollar beers and occasionally lukewarm mozzarella sticks. Normally Vin, Wonwoo and Mingyu would be around, but tonight it’s just the smaller group. 

Jeonghan and Joshua slide out of the booth to play darts, shoving one another back and forth, the drink in their step making them a little off balance. You smile fondly as you pluck another beer out of the bucket of ice, struggling to pop the top, your wet hands sliding against the metal cap. 

Wordlessly, Seungcheol holds his hand out. Flushing from the neck down, you hand it over to him with a silent thank you. He pops the top easily, bicep flexing for a moment before he passes it back over, shooting you an award winning grin. 

“Wow, so strong.”

He pouts and you swear you see stars. “Hey, I am strong.” 

“No, no, you are. Thank you.” 

“You shouldn’t tease me. I’m new.” 

“Huh.” You sip your beer, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat. It does nothing to soothe the heat spreading over your skin under the sole attention of Seungcheol. “I don’t remember that being a rule.” 

“I never was one to play by the rules anyway.” 

“Oh, so you’re saying you cheat at games like Jeonghan does.” 

“I like winning.”

You roll your eyes. From the edge of your vision, you see people leave the pool table. Eager to stand up and stretch your legs, you start to slide out of the booth, the wood grain scratching against your jeans as you do. 

“Come on then, cheater. Let’s play pool.” 

“I’m down.” 

Seungcheol follows you. Your fingers grip the glass of your drink tight, knuckles straining. You move around tables and duck around other patrons, hyper aware of the way Seungcheol keeps close to you, the heat of him against your back. 

Next to the rows of dart boards are two pool tables, the felt a faded green with beer stains and other mysterious smudges on the surface. You grab a cue from the rack on the wall, spin it in your hands, and hand it over to Seungcheol. He eyes it, running his fingers along the splintered and dented wood.

Grabbing your cue in one hand and the triangle rack and set it on the table while he collects the balls from the table and the pockets, rolling them over to you. A few feet away, Joshua is already accusing Jeonghan of cheating. You don’t know how you cheat in darts, but you do know if there is a will, Jeonghan will find a way.

“Dangerous to let them have sharp objects,” Seungcheol notes, sliding the last ball over to you. You huff out a laugh, rolling the rack of billiard balls back and forth to set them. “You’re not going to get violent with me, right?”

“I don’t know, are you going to cheat?”

His smile is wicked. “Me? Definitely not.” 

“Hmm. Not convincing.”

Seungcheol presses the flat of his palm over his chest, drawing your eyes to how thick he is in the chest area. You swallow thickly as he says, “Cross my heart.” 

“Whatever you say. What are we playing for?” 

“What will you give me?” 

You look up at the shift in his tone. Dark. Flirty. He leans against the pool table, resting his hip casually as he crosses his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his arms flex, totally focused on the way his eyes are only for you. Intent. Meaningful. 

A warning goes off in your head. You already feel the pull to him, the innate attraction that has your heart hammering. You should brush off the flirtation, move on to other things. Relationships aren’t really your thing, but there’s something about him that makes you know you’ll want more. 

You already do want more. 

“What do you want?” you ask softly, ignoring your better judgment. 

When Seungcheol smiles, you know you’d give him anything. Everything.

“I can think of something, I think.”

-

DAY SEVEN

“I like this,” Seungcheol says, voice rough from use. He buttons his jeans, looking over at you. You’re still half-alive on your bed, a sheen of sweat covering your body. The sheets stick to you when you roll to look at him. “Are you good with casual?”

You’re only half listening, too distracted by his flexing abs. “Hmm?”

Seungcheol looks good tonight. He looks good every night, but tonight he’s in dark jeans and a white sweater. The sweater looks soft like his hair, which has grown longer and hangs in his eyes as he looks down to slip on his shoes. 

“I’m not really looking for a relationship at the moment but this,” he answers, flicking his fingers between the two of you. “It’s good.” 

“Agreed. I’m good with casual. I’m a little too busy for anything more.” 

It’s not a lie. You are too busy to really commit to someone. Again, a warning goes off in your mind like that first night you met him, screaming danger. You ignore it, not ready to give up Seungcheol just yet. 

He grins, pulling his short back over his head. “Cool. If you ever don’t want to or whatever though, let me know, yeah?”

“You too.” 

-

DAY TEN 

Seungcheol [2:06 AM]: Come home with me You [2:06 AM]: Everyone would notice Seungcheol [2:07 AM]: Tell them where you’re going who caaaares Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Unless you don’t want to tell them then that’s ok Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: I personally don’t care if they know I’m rearranging your guts most nights :)  You [2:10 AM]: CHEOL You [2:10 AM]: Fine pls hold my hand while I do this. They’re going to roast me Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Holding your hand sooo tight Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: But from like over here tho  You [2:19 AM]: That was so embarrassing. Where did you go Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: She’s so brave, she’s well behaved Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: Standing outside hurry it's cold as dick out here

Seungcheol [4:38 AM]: Don’t forget to text me when you make it home  You [4:52 AM]: Home safe!  

-

DAY TWENTY THREE

You [11:10 PM]: Wyd Seungcheol [11:34 PM]: Need it that bad? You [11:39 PM]: Wow goodnight!!!!! Seungcheol [11:39 PM]: Nah come back Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: COME BACK Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: Omw. Unlock the door You [11:45 PM]: Need it that bad?  Seungcheol [11:45 PM]: Yes actually :) 

-

DAY THIRTY

You slide your finger across the phone, curious as you pick up Seungcheol’s phone call. “Hello?”

“Are you hungry?” 

You look at your watch. It’s almost one in the afternoon, your stomach growling as it realizes that yeah you are kind of hungry. “Actually yeah. Why?” 

“I had to run errands and I’m by your place and starving. Wanna get lunch?” 

Your lips twitch in a smile. Leaning against the counter, you press the phone against you a little closer. “Sure, what did you have in mind?” 

“Do you like Greek?” You hum in assent, chewing on your fingernail nervously. You can hear him get into his car, pausing momentarily as he starts it and curses at how hot it is. You can’t help but laugh. “Alright, pick you up in ten?”

“Alright.” 

-

DAY FORTY THREE

He’s not yours. You tell yourself that over and over again as you try not to look across the bar where Seungcheol is sitting for the nth time. You’d noticed him immediately when you and Vin walked in, clocking his wide frame and familiar laugh with a precision that makes you curse yourself.

Now, Seungcheol is leaning against a high top, talking to a pretty girl sitting on a stool next to him. He’d waved at you earlier and shot you a smile and a wink, but he’s with friends you’re unfamiliar with tonight, and hasn’t come over.

Not that you expect him to. He isn’t yours and the casual thing you’ve got going means he can do whatever he wants, no strings attached.

So why is your heart in your throat as you glance over to see the girl laughing at something he’s said? They’re not alone but somehow that isn’t comforting at all. You pick at the varnish on the table to distract yourself, suddenly interested in the splinters and not the man across the bar from you.

Finishing the rest of your beer, you pull out another, hoping that the hoppy taste erases the icky feeling that settles on your skin. You’re not participating in conversation much, but if your friends notice, they have the decency not to call you out. 

At least Vin knows what’s up, checking on you every once in a while. Thankfully she doesn’t say anything, occasionally giving you a squeeze instead. She knows the deal, understanding the irrationality between wanting to control something that isn’t yours to control. 

Halfway through your beer, your phone vibrates. You flip it over and your heart starts pounding when you see Seungcheol’s name come across the screen, a message waiting to be read. With a shaky hand, you slide your thumb across the screen to unlock it, the message popping up.

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: Wanna come back to mine? 

Surprised, you look up from your phone to where he’s still at the high top. His phone is in his hands and he’s looking right at you, flashing a grin when you meet his eyes. The girl is still sitting next to him, but his attention is entirely on you now, pinning you to the spot. 

Your phone vibrates again and you glance down, your phone’s brightness stark in the gloom of the bar. 

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: You’re cute when you’re surprised You [12:14 AM]: What, the girl you were talking to said no? Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: I didn’t ask her. I asked you Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: Omg wait are you jealous?? You [12:14 AM]: No You [12:14 AM]: Definitely not  Seungcheol [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me is Hades for a liar or whatever You [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another, loser Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Same thing Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: But seriously, I have no interest in her. I’m asking YOU Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Will beg from my knees in this bar Seungcheol [12:19 AM]: Even tho the floor is kind of gross You [12:20 AM]: I mean, if you’re offering to get on your knees… 

You’re not sure if you trust his answer about not being interested in the other girl, but it doesn’t matter. You still end up leaning against him in an Uber, his hand squeezing your thigh playfully as he leans his forehead on the window, eyes closed to enjoy the cool glass. 

He is so handsome, face glowing red as the car stops at a stoplight. You examine him closely, eyes dragging from the soft curve of his mouth to his impossibly silk lashes. You’d told him once that most girls would kill for those lashes, and now he likes to bat them at you every time he wants something. 

The car starts moving and you look away from him, taking in a deep breath. Seungcheol isn’t yours, but you’re starting to think you want him to be. 

DAY FIFTY TWO

“Is it weird if I bring a bag of shit to stay?” Seungcheol’s voice is shy over the receiver. You grip your phone tighter, biting your bottom lip to hide your smile as you roll onto your side in bed, snuggling into the pillow more. It smells like him, bergamot and cedarwood. “You can tell me if that’s weird.”

“Not weird at all,” you say carefully, too nervous to scare him off. “You usually end up sleeping here anyway.” 

Usually really means always. He’s been doing that more recently, crashing at your apartment after coming over and vice versa. You’ve gone from Uber rides home at dawn to waking up curled into his back. He’s the first person you’ve ever let loiter in your space as much as he has, but you try not to think about it too much, as though just the acknowledgement might spook him.

Whatever thing between you feels fragile, a rare, glass menagerie set that can shatter if handled wrong. Friends with benefits is what you call it, but you’re not quite sure if that’s what it is.

“Okay cool. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go back to my place and shower sucks.” 

“I do have a shower.”

“Oh I’m aware. It’s one of my favorite places in your apartment.” 

Your stomach flutters and you clench your thighs together. Looking at the clock on your nightstand, you realize it’s getting late. “Better hurry,” you murmur. “I might be too tired for a shower when you get here.” 

His chuckle is deep. Throaty. “I’ll speed, then.” 

After hanging up, you toss your phone to the end of your bed and stare at the ceiling. Outside, the city hums beyond the window of your apartment. The lights in your home are mostly turned off, a single lamp providing low light in the living room so Seungcheol can see when he comes in, and a flickering candle on your nightstand and in the bathroom. 

Your bed is warm and you do feel sleepy, but the excitement of seeing Seungcheol keeps you awake well enough. You try not to think of that too much, either. He was just there a few nights prior, and already he’s on his way back. Like it’s common. Routine. 

And it sort of is, you guess. You hangout with Seungcheol almost more than you see Vin and Jeonghan these days, and you’re almost always spending the night together. You know his favorite late night snacks, you know the type of coffee he likes to make in the morning before work, and you know about his family, his stresses at work. What makes him tick. 

It’s more than you ever thought you’d know about him when you agreed to keep your sex life with him casual and at a distance. He is anything but at a distance. 

Seungcheol must speed, because it feels like hardly any time has passed when you hear your apartment door open and shut, the sound of the deadbolt clicking. You lift yourself up to lean on your elbows, watching from your bed as he enters your line of vision, a backpack over one shoulder. 

He’s dressed in a long t-shirt and sweats, cozy and warm and still unbelievably good looking. He grins when he sees you, eyes creasing at the corners as he enters your room and drops his bag by your door. 

Without saying anything, Seungcheol crawls onto your bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he inches up over you. Falling backward onto the mattress, you let him loom over you. Heat radiates from his body, warming you up. Your heart thuds as he ducks down, his hands bracketing your head as he cages you in. He brushes his nose against yours and you feel sparks, trying to regulate your breathing. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, reaching your hands up to rest on his hips. He reacts, pressing his waist into yours a little, making you bear his weight. “Ugh, heavy.” 

“Too bad.” 

Seungcheol’s teeth nip your jaw, making your hips twitch upward. You can feel the smirk against your skin as he presses a wet kiss under your ear, moving his way to your neck. 

“I was promised a shower.”

“Maybe I’m too tired,” You murmur.

He hums, leaning more of his weight into you. It’s comforting, not crushing, and you can feel the way his heart is beating wildly in his chest, in tune with yours. You smell bergamot and cedarwood, making your thoughts dizzy and scattered while he whispers, “I’ll wash your hair.” 

“Hmmm. I’m listening.” 

He presses a wet kiss to your pulse point, tongue laving against your skin. Your fingers twist in his shirt, your muscles tensing as you fight off a shiver. You can hear his soft breath, the way the sheets shift under the two of you, the way your heart hammers.  

“I’ll massage your shoulders…” 

“Hmm.” 

His teeth scrape against your throat and you sigh, arching up into him, eyes closed. “I’ll eat you out.” 

Fuck. You’re putty in his hands. Seungcheol could get you to do anything he asked. You don’t know if he knows - you’re too afraid to show him, to let him in on the secret out of fear of what it would mean to him. If it was too much, too deep.

But like this, it’s hard not to hide it. Especially when his filthy mouth hits a weak point in you, turning you thoughtless as you nod your head in response, nails digging into his hip bones through the fabric of his shirt. He makes a noise in response, leaning up off of you reluctantly but pulling you with him. 

Dropping his hands, you head to the bathroom, feeling uneven. Seungcheol whines and grabs you to pull you back toward him. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly. 

“You haven’t even given me a kiss,” he pouts, looking down at you through long, dark lashes. “I want a kiss.” 

This is the problem with Seungcheol. He says things like this when you’re supposed to be casual, something easy and without feelings and without strings. But this feels like something, it feels like there's a thread connecting you, tugging your mouth to his because of course you indulge him.

You always do. 

Seungcheol’s lips are soft and taste faintly of his cherry chapstick. You smile into the kiss, standing on your tiptoes to press closer to him. He kisses you back eagerly, slotting his lips against yours and humming with delight. When you pull away, he’s smug, grinning happily. 

“Come on,” he urges, now leading the charge as he pulls you by the hand toward your bathroom. 

Instead of turning on the light, Seungcheol uses the glow of the burning candle on the counter to navigate. He drops your hand to open up the cabinets and pulls out two towels as you trail to the shower, opening the glass door to lean in and turn it on. 

Steam starts to fill the room as you close the shower door and turn to him. He sets the towels on the counter, not bothering to shut the door to the bedroom. Instead, he grips the bottom of his shirt and peels it upward and over his head, revealing all toned muscle and tan skin. 

He momentarily distracts you. Seungcheol is a work of art, equal parts rippling muscle and soft skin. You slide your shorts down, distracted by the way he looks in the golden shroud of the candle light, sliding his sweatpants down his legs. 

Sensing your eyes, he lifts his head as he kicks off his sweats, briefs slung low on his hips. “Admiring me?” 

“Shut up.” 

Looking away, you take off your shirt, feeling the heat flush from your cheeks down to your neck. He chuckles, peeling off his briefs before kicking them toward the sink and striding toward the shower. He stops to kiss you on the cheek as he pulls open the door. 

“I don’t mind,” he teases. “I like it.” 

It’s true. Seungcheol has always had the easy confidence of someone who is comfortable in their skin. You admire that about him - and envy him a little. Seungcheol never seems to worry what others think of him, nor does he seem embarrassed or concerned about making the wrong move. Saying the wrong thing. 

Steam hits you full on as you step into the shower. Seungcheol is already standing under the spray of water, his back turned toward you. For a moment you admire him again, watching the way the water sluices down his broad back and narrow waist. 

Your eyes drift to the tattoo at his neck, the branches of the tree stretching toward his shoulders. You’ve traced that tree with the tips of your fingers and tongue over and over again, fascinated about the way the ink flexes when he moves. 

A chill catches you, making you shiver and step toward the heat of the water. He senses your approach, turning his head to the side to look at you over his shoulder. He grins, reaching a hand back toward you to pull you close. You lace your fingers, letting him pull you into him as he turns. 

Hot water hits your skin, immediately soothing. You sigh, leaning into the firmness of him, Seungcheol’s arms wrapping around you. He catches your mouth again, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you slowly, tongue lazy as he licks into your mouth. 

Seungcheol’s hands spread across your back, fingers digging in a little as he starts to explore, one hand surging up and the other down. You moan into his mouth as the hand that drifts down grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing a little. His mouth curves into the kiss and you feel his teeth pull at your bottom lip, something he knows you love.

As always, you’re a goner. You don’t stand a chance with him. Not that first night and not now when he kisses you like something more. Not when he slides his hand around to your front, pressed between your bodies to run his fingers up the wet folds of your pussy. 

He groans into the kiss that has turned sloppy, hungry. “Fucking wet.”

“We’re in the shower.” 

He growls and pulls his mouth from you to attach to your neck, biting and sucking harshly. You let out a breathy sound, head tilting back heavily as you feel his tongue lick the water from your skin. “Don’t take away my credit.” 

“The only crime is pride.”

The pads of his fingers press into your clit, making your knees knock together and the breath leave your lungs. He smiles against your neck, humming. “Which classic are you quoting at me today?” 

“Antigone by Sophocles.” 

“What’s that one about?” 

Finding words is nearly impossible. The heat of the shower has you flushed and distracted, the steam making it harder to breathe, thoughts sticky as Seungcheol continues to tease you, fingers dragging down to your clenching entrance to press his fingers in slightly before dragging them back up.

Your nails bite into the back of his neck, clinging to him for life as he holds you up, one arm looped around your back to press you to him while the other makes all your thoughts scattered. 

“Come on,” he urges gently, bringing his face to yours. He brushes his nose against yours, nudging. “Tell me.” 

“She was a tragic character in a play written by Sophocles,” you sigh. “She was the daughter of Oedipus.” 

“The guy who fucked his mom?”

Your laughter bubbles out of you. He laughs too, his hold tightening. “Yeah, Cheol. The guy who fucked his mom.”

“Craaazy family.” 

“Do you really want to talk about Greek tragedy incest right now?”

“Nope,” he says happily. “I do want to eat this pussy though.” 

Seungcheol flips gears so quickly that it’s hard to keep up. He swings you toward the glass wall of the shower, pressing your chest against it. You moan loudly, startled by the cool glass against your hard nipples. The contrast of hot water and the cool glass feels good, your eyes fluttering shut as Seungcheol drops to his knees behind you. He gently presses the inside of your knees, urging you to spread your legs. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, hands ghosting upward to squeeze your ass. He pulls your hips away from the glass and toward him, groaning as he comes face level to your cunt. “Fuck.”

Your breath fogs the glass. It’s cold when you press your palms against it, holding yourself up as Seungcheol dips forward, running the flat of his tongue down your slit. You let out a pathetic sound and he laughs, fingers squeezing your flesh. 

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. You melt, knees shaking and unsteady as Seungcheols tongue leisurely explores your folds, dipping into your entrance before dragging up to circle your clit. 

One of your hands leaves the glass to reach back, sinking into the wet strands of his hair and holding him to you. He grunts in pleasure, the buzz of his mouth adding to the simulation as he fastens his lips to you, sucking gently. 

Seungcheol’s mouth is a weapon. You fall apart under the warmth of his lips, the softness of his tongue. He sucks at your core, greedy and pleased, fingers digging into you as he presses in further. He can never get enough, the wet sounds of his hunger making your toes curl.

“Feels so good,” you pant against the glass. Your nails scrape against his scalp and he moans loudly, muffled by your cunt. “Your fucking mouth.” 

“Mmm. Love you like this.” His tongue flicks expertly across your clit and you feel your thighs clench, legs shaking as your orgasm spools inside of you. “God this shower hurts my fucking knees though.”

“You wanted to eat me out in the shower.”

A hand cracks across your ass cheek, making you arch against the glass. He chuckles, tongue diving back, words slurred as he mutters, “And I’d do it again.”

Seungcheol’s mouth feels divine. You go quiet as he sucks at you, focused on the warmth spreading through you and the way your breath starts to stutter, limbs locking up. 

When you come, you go boneless. Seungcheol holds you up, pressing you against the glass as he licks you through your orgasm. You twitch against him, nails dragging in his hair, your other hand sliding against the glass as you fight to grip anything to ground you.

Breathing raggedly, you sag when he pulls his face from you and stands. He groans and you grin, knowing his knees hurt from the tile of the shower. He doesn’t care, though. He crowds you in, cock pressed against your backside as his arms loop around you. 

“Kiss me.” His voice is soft, needy. 

Turning your face over your shoulder, you let him catch his mouth with yours, all tongue and cum and spit. You don’t care, pushing into him. One of his hands slides down between your legs, making you whimper into his mouth as he slides his fingers through your sticky folds to press two of them into your entrance. 

Seungcheol is a giver. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve slept together or had brief, fast encounters, he always makes it a point to please you. To go out of his way to make you shake against him, like he needs it. 

He keeps your mouth melded to his as his fingers fuck you slowly. You clench around his fingers, moaning his name as he presses them against the soft spot inside of you. You see stars, panting into his mouth as he strings you along, dragging you toward another orgasm. 

It’s slow. Intimate. His mouth is hot and wet, sucking at biting at your bottom lip. His other hand snakes up to your throat, not applying pressure but gripping you, holding you to him. If he didn’t have you so tightly pressed to the glass, you think you’d collapse.

“You won’t fall,” he breathes into your mouth, reading your mind. “I’ve got you.”

“My knees are fucking useless right now.”

“You’re tough. Come on, I know you can give me more.” 

You’ll give him anything he asks. You feel your heart slamming in your chest as he works you up again, feel the ragged breathing until you momentarily stop, everything tense and suspended as you clench around his fingers, shuddering violently as you come. 

“Knew it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”

A whine leaves you at the praise, head shaking back and forth a little as the oversensitivity makes you squirm. He works you through it, mouth pressed to your ear, whispering to breathe, baby as he strokes you gently until you’re leaning against him heavily. 

Seungcheol removes his hand but keeps holding you up, letting you catch your breath. He peppers innocent kisses along your shoulder, lips brushing your skin tenderly. When you stand up with more strength, he pats you on the hip, gentle.

“Good?”

“Mhmm.” Craning over your shoulder, you catch his chin with your mouth, kissing softly. You press your ass into him, feeling his straining cock. “Come on.” 

“Yeah?”

“All good.”

“Thank fuck. Thought I lost you.”

“I’ve had worse,” you grin, a little tired.

He kisses you, patting you approvingly before he grinds the tip of his cock between your legs. He groans deep in his chest, grip on you tightening for a moment. You reach behind you, gripping the base of his cock firmly, stroking gently before lining him up with your entrance. 

Seungcheol pushes in, both of you whining in harmony at the feeling. It feels good, your pussy throbbing around him as he presses in slowly, letting you feel the stretch. He clings to you, trying to keep it together as you flutter around him. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, more to himself than you. “Shit.” 

Gently, Seungcheol starts to fuck you against the glass, strokes deep and slow. It’s mind-numbingly good, your cheek cool and pressed against the shower wall, Seungcheol’s face buried in your neck, breath puffing against your skin. 

He holds you reverently, both hands on your hips to keep you where he wants you. You reach one hand behind your head, holding the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin. He hums happily, always pleased when you bite and scratch him.

That had been a surprise. You always thought he wouldn’t want you to mark him, that he wouldn’t want evidence of your time spent together. Seungcheol is the opposite though, urging you to rake your nails across soft skin, to bite at him and bruise him. 

Your feet slide apart a little as he strengthens his thrusts. You squeal, hand smacking the glass to hold yourself up. He lets out a loud laugh, pausing to let you fix your stance. He taps your thigh in question and you nod, lifting your leg a little to let him slide a hand under your thigh to press it against the shower wall for better grip.

When he rolls his hips into you this time, it’s deeper, making you tremble against the glass. A groan drips from Seungcheol’s mouth as he sets his pace, pinning you between him and the glass with nothing to do but to take what he gives you. 

“Can you do another?” he asks, breath shaky. His fingers squeeze your thigh for emphasis, the snap of his hips getting stronger. You nod, unable to answer verbally. He huffs, half laughter, half something else. “Yeah you can.” 

And you can. Seungcheol can pull pleasure out of you like thread from a loom, his skilled hands guiding you where he wants you to go. It’s easy for him, the way he knows your body so acute and familiar that the thought alone makes you unravel a little, your whines muted by the glass. 

He makes you come like that, stuck between his warmth and the cold, the two contrasts keeping you suspended as you seize up around him. He grunts at the feeling, hips sloppy, losing their rhythm until he clenches up, growling your name into your neck as he tips over the edge after you. 

For a few moments, you remain melded together, panting in time. Seungcheol makes no rush of peeling himself away from you. Instead, he’s content to mouth at your shoulder and neck, running his nose along your throat. You squirm and laugh, ticklish. 

Grinning, he does it again, nuzzling into you and making you laugh, sound echoing in the shower. “Seungcheol!”

“It’s cute.” 

“Come on,” you urge. “You said you’d wash my hair.” 

He steals a kiss. “Alright, alright. Pass me the shampoo.” 

-

DAY FIFTY SEVEN

“Who is that?” Seungcheol asks, jerking his head toward the bar. You turn and follow his gaze to see Seokmin standing at the bar, ordering drinks. “Never seen him before.”

“Jealous?” You tease, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. Seokmin is just a coworker, but it doesn’t mean you can’t poke Seungcheol a little. Except Seungcheol doesn’t laugh, leveling you with a stare, lips turning downward. “Wait, you actually are.”

“Don’t push it. It was just a question.”

“We work together,” you clarify, immediately turning off the charm when you recognize he’s not amused. “Actually I think he sort of has a thing for Vin, which is why he’s here.” 

Seungcheol hums, sipping his beer and looking away from you. Licking your lips, you reach out a hand and touch his gently, bringing his dark eyes back to you. He looks serious - more serious than you’ve ever seen him, face blank, eyes unreadable. 

“I mean it.” You squeeze his hand, trying to comfort him. “We’re just friends.” 

“Alright.” 

“I feel like you’re mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?” 

You shrug, struggling to articulate. He still has that expression you can’t read, something stark and closed off. “Just seems like it.” 

He shakes his head again, but you don’t think he’s telling the truth, watching the way his eyes shift to watch Seokmin approach. “Just tired, I think I might head out.” 

Panic grips you and you say the first thing you can think of, throwing caution to the wind. “Want to come over?” 

That gives him pause. He studies you. You feel a tightness in your throat under his scrutiny. His mouth twitches and he nods. “Alright,” he says softly. “If you want me to.”

“I do.” You squeeze his hand again. “Really.”

-

DAY SEVENTY EIGHT

“Want to do me a huge favor?” 

You look up from your spot on your couch. Seungcheol is in your kitchen, using his hip to close the door to the fridge. He lifts the lid on the package of grapes, plastic cracking loudly as he does. Leaning against the counter, he pops one into his mouth, crunching happily. 

“Besides giving you my grapes?” you ask, deadpan. He grins around them shrugging happily as he eats another. You roll your eyes, turning back to the laptop carefully balanced on your knee. “What’s the favor?” 

“We have this giant New Years Eve party at work in two weeks and I need a date.”

That gives you pause. You stare at the computer screen but you can’t make out anything on the screen. You don’t dare to turn and look at Seungcheol, fearful that the feelings his question brings out will be right on the surface of your expression.

Date. It’s a scary word. You and Seungcheol sort of go on dates all the time, but they’re not really dates. At least, not from your perspective. If you were to ask Jeonghan, he would launch into another lecture that you should just put a goddamn title on this thing. Vin happily agrees, both of them hammering you on calling the thing between you and Seuncheol what it is.

But it’s friends with benefits. Friends go out to eat meals together and go shopping together - they hangout. The benefits are the sex. It’s the pressing you against your mattress as he maps your body with his mouth, it’s the way you sink to your knees for him after he’s had a bad day at work, taking him into the heat of your mouth to make him forget. 

So yes, you’ve gone places together alone and as a friend date. But somehow this feels different, and you don’t think it’s supposed to. 

Carefully, you ask, “Your date, huh?”

“Mhmm. Free drinks and apps, and it’s at the top of that fancy new hotel. We can stay the night so we don’t have to pay for an expensive as fuck Uber” 

Not for the first time, you find yourself unsure where the line is with Seungcheol. You’ve agreed multiple times that this is just casual, a shared benefit between friends. And yet every time you feel confident in what you are, the line blurs. 

You’re as guilty as he is, you know. On more than one occasion you’re the one who has crossed the line, messing up the clear boundary the two of you have had in place for weeks. Somehow, you both manage to be utterly terrible at casual, but you’re too afraid to say something about it. Too afraid to ruin it. 

“I suppose I can be convinced.” 

“Oh? What can I do to convince you?” 

You look up as his tone turns to velvet, that voice he uses when he’s coaxing you into his lap, or when he’s- 

“It’s really hard to be sexy when there’s grape juice running down your chin, Cheol.” 

He pouts, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the lower half of his face as you laugh. He’s cute, pink lips downturned and eyes round as he sulks. “Don’t make fun of me. Just say yes to being my date.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go.” 

His grin is burnished gold, the sun breaking for first light over the horizon. “Thank you.” 

“Mhmm.” He crunches into another grape and you scowl. “Stop eating all my fucking grapes!” 

-

DAY NINETY TWO

“Holy shit,” Seungcheol mutters when you step out of the hotel bedroom. He feels his heart start to pound in his chest from where he stands in the kitchenette, fingers squeezing the glass of whiskey he poured himself earlier. “You look unreal.”

And you do. You always do. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when Jeonghan and Joshua introduced the two of you that first night at that shitty bar you like to go to on Fridays. The real kicker had been your personality, though. Warm, kind, quick wit. A bit of a history nerd, which is his favorite thing. 

Honestly, he loves a lot of things about you. He knows that he has to do something about that. Knows that this stopped being casual a long time ago. Seungcheol has no problem with casual hookups and keeping people in a rotation, but when it comes to you… he just wants you. 

It’s like he has no idea how to keep his distance, how to keep his feelings out of it. He doesn’t mind, but he needs to figure out how to tell you. How to take that next step and move you from friends to more - if that’s what you want, anyway. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you say back neutrally. He can see the way your eyes linger on him though, your gaze betraying the calmness of your voice, as always.

You don’t get it, though. Seungcheol cannot keep his eyes off you, dragging them from top to bottom. The black dress is snug on your frame, his eyes tracing the swells of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curve of your ass and thighs. 

Dragging his eyes back up, he meets your gaze. That is one of his favorite things. Your eyes, full of light and depth and thoughts that he always wants to fall into. There is so much simmering under the surface that you don’t say and he’s never asked.

He wants to. 

Knocking back the rest of his drink, Seungcheol leaves the glass on the counter and walks over to you. You shift from foot to foot, eyes darting up to examine the ceiling. He smirks, feeling the nerves radiating from you as he approaches. 

When he reaches out, you don’t step away from him. You let him skim his hands up your sides, going until he’s running them over your shoulders and on either side of your neck so he can cradle your face. He turns your gaze back to him and you stare up at him through your lashes. 

He was a goner on day one. How ridiculous to think he’s not just made this real, told you how he doesn’t want a single thing to be casual and superficial between you. 

Instead of stealing a searing kiss and pushing you back into the bedroom like he wants to, Seungcheol presses a short kiss to the corner of your mouth. He’s too afraid that if he starts something that you won’t make it downstairs. 

Now isn’t the time for that, though. There’s a party upstairs and free drinks and he wants to spend time with his friends. Spend time with you.

The Seungcheol that existed before you is a stranger to him. He barely remembers what it was like to have people he wasn’t genuinely interested in, what it was like to show up alone at parties and take someone home. Hardly recalls pushing people away when they wanted too much. 

All it took was meeting you.

“Come on,” he urges gently, leading you from the room and to the elevator. 

Seungcheol slides his phone from his pocket in the elevator. You press close against him, your arm brushing against his as it fills up with people. He notes where Wonwoo tells him to meet and puts his phone back in his pocket, leaning into you a little.

You let him, making his mouth twitch upward. You always let him do what he wants, and when you don’t, an easy pout gets his way. He’s wrapped around your finger, too. He doesn’t know if you realize it, but he would give you anything you wanted without a moment's hesitation. 

When the elevator doors open, Seungcheol takes your hand. You let him pull you into the party teeming with people, the sound of music swelling over the dull roar of the crowd. You stick closer to him, fingers squeezing him tightly as the pair of you walk toward the check-in table. 

“This is beautiful,” you murmur to him. 

His first instinct is to look at you because you are beautiful. You’re not looking at him, your neck craned to sweep over the party. He smiles at you, watching the glow of your side profile, eyes wide with wonder.

Dragging his eyes from your face, he glances around the party. It is gorgeous, with views of the entire city glittering beneath the building like a bed of stars, shimmering decorations reflecting the golden lights, a giant clock to show the time, and massive flower arrangements. 

“It’s nice,” he agrees, shuffling to the table where he gives his name. “Choi Seungcheol.”

“Perfect, thanks.” The person working the table peels two wristbands and gestures for you both to hold out your wrists. You let go of his hand to do so, letting the attendant wrap your arm in a blue band. “Have a great night, Mr. and Mrs. Choi.” 

Both of you blink in surprise. You open and close your mouth as if you’re unsure how to correct them and Seungcheol laughs, shrugging as he takes your hand and leads you out of the line and into the party proper this time.

“This way, wifey.” 

You roll your eyes but grin anyway, looping your arm through his offered one and tugging him close. He’s satisfied, leading you through the tight crowd of people toward the south bar that Wonwoo had said their friends were waiting at.

Joshua spots you and waves you both over, making room at the bar for you to join. Jeonghan’s eyes flick to where your arm is looped through Seungcheol to Seungcheol himself, raising a brow. Seungcheol glares at him, urging him to shut up and Jeonghan grins, turning to order drinks at the bar. 

Wonwoo claps Seungcheol on the back in greeting before kissing you on both cheeks and letting you sit on the only barstool available. Seungcheol moves with you pressed to your back as he leans an elbow on the bar, keeping you close. You lean into him, earning a shy smile that he tries to hide behind the rim of the champagne glass that Jeonghan hands him.

He likes this. He likes being with his friends. He likes the way you laugh and lean back further into him when you do. He likes that his friends don’t bother the two of you about being attached at the hip. And he likes the way your face lights up every time he jokingly calls you wifey. 

Seungcheol wants this. 

He doesn’t recall the last time he wanted a relationship the way he wants with you. It doesn’t matter anyway. Everything before you is gone and forgotten, and what matters now are the things that are post-meeting-you. 

Plied with lots of champagne and your laughter, Seungcheol lets you drag him onto the dance floor, wrapping your arms around him as he spins you. He doesn’t know what has him more drunk, the alcohol or you. He thinks it might be you. 

The DJ announces that it’s one minute until midnight, making Seungcheol spin and look up at the clock. The partygoers cheer, clustering together to press toward the clock to count down. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close in the tight crowd. 

His heart flutters as he watches the numbers countdown, realizing he gets to kiss you at midnight. He’s kissed you over a hundred times by now, but the prospect makes him giddy. His heart races as the numbers drop and he looks at you from the corner of your eye.

You’re watching the clock, uncontrolled happiness on your face as you yell with the rest of the crowd, counting each number as it passes by. 

When the clock strikes midnight, you peer up at him, suddenly unsure. He can’t believe you don’t see it, that you’d doubt for one second that he wants you to be his first kiss of the year. His heart seizes, dipping down with a smile to press his lips to yours.

Your mouth is warm and champagne-sweet, making him groan in the back of his throat. Your fingers cling to his hip, holding him by the waist as he slips a hand up to the back of your neck to hold you in place, deepening the kiss. 

When you pull your mouth away, he makes up his mind. Fuck everything he said about keeping it casual - he doesn’t want to go another minute without you knowing what he wants. 

-

DAY NINETY THREE

“Be my girlfriend.”

The words that come from Seungcheol’s lips catch you off guard. A giggle bursts to your lips and you lean back, trying to examine him from a little farther away. You feel the glitter of champagne in your veins and the same buzz that comes with being near Seungcheol, wondering if maybe he’s had too much to drink.

“What?” you ask, examining his face. He’s flushed, lips pink and smiling, but his eyes are dark and serious.

“Be my girlfriend,” he says again, this time quieter. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath fans your face, warm and sweetened by champagne. “I know we agreed to be casual so if you don’t want more, that’s fine. But there is nothing casual about the way I feel about you.”

Heart thundering, you laugh and cling to him a little tighter. He nudges you with his head, as though asking what’s so funny. You don’t know how to put into words that you’ve wanted to be not casual for a long time, that you are dizzy with the prospect of being something more, that he’s just made the first minute of your year perfect.

Instead of trying to string together the words to tell him, you kiss him. His mouth turns upward, letting you press your palms to the sides of his face, holding him to your lips. There’s no one else but just the two of you, entirely in your own bubble on the rooftop. 

Relief mixed with euphoria floods your system. It’s a weight lifted off your shoulders, realizing that you’re not crazy, that nothing you feel about Seungcheol is casual and that’s okay. That he feels it too. 

Your fingers slide into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling slightly. He groans, separating your mouths to peer down at you, his lashes fanning when he blinks, dazed. 

“Don’t do that,” he whispers. “This is a work party. I’ll fold right here.” 

“So take me somewhere that isn’t here and fold.”

His gummy smile is blinding, your heart soaring. “Alright, wifey.” 

“Gonna need a ring pop at a minimum if you’re gonna keep saying that shit.”

He links your fingers together, stepping away from you. He tugs you after him and you follow. “Deal. What flavor?”

“Strawberry. I kind of want to suck something else right now, though.” 

Seungcheol groans and you laugh, loving the way he visibly struggles as your words land. He walks faster, a new pep in his step as you make your way toward the elevator. He shouts Wonwoo’s name as he goes, waving his hand to tell him that you’re leaving. 

Wonwoo’s grin is all-knowing as he throws two thumbs up, cheering happily. You tingle with a little bit of embarrassment, scurrying toward the closing elevator door to catch it. It opens again and you both slip inside, alone and buzzing from the party and your newfound status. 

The door closes and Seungcheol pushes in close. You press against the wall, looking up at his sharp grin, his nose nudging yours. His lips are almost on yours, the heat of them against your mouth making you dizzy and the heavy weight of his body against yours making your thoughts sticky. 

“Gonna suck something else, huh?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Wanna do it right here in the elevator?” 

“Huh?” 

He bursts into laughter at your wide gaze, tapping the underside of your chin with his knuckle in jest. “I’m kidding. Unless…”

You shove him away and he starts laughing again, bending over with the force of it. You can’t be annoyed by his teasing, loving the way his eyes crease at the corner and how he laughs with the full force of his body. 

“You’re so annoying.” 

“You should have seen your face, though.” 

“I mean I’ll do it right now, if you want.”

His smile drops and he opens his mouth a little, shocked. “Wait, really?”

“No, but you should have seen your face.”

The elevator arriving at the appropriate floor saves him from answering. He scowls at you and you giggle, grabbing him and pushing him into the hall and toward your room. He turns on his heel, falling into step with you and fishing the room key out of his pocket. 

It’s cold in the room when you enter. Seungcheol had booked a one bedroom suite with a small living room and kitchenette. It was more than what you needed for the night, but it feels nice, like your own private getaway. 

Taking you by the hand, he walks backward toward the bedroom, pulling you along. His smile is beautiful and you wear a matching one. A thrill shoots through you when you realize that Seungcheol is yours. Really yours. 

Sitting on the bed, he pulls you into his lap. Your knees sink in the mattress on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. Leaning over him, you link your hands behind the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the silky hair there. 

Seungcheol tilts his face up toward you, eyes fluttering as you play with his hair. His arms loop around your waist, squeezing you. 

“Hi,” he breathes. 

“Hi.”

Leaning down, you slot your mouth against his. He tastes like champagne, mouth warm. Kissing him takes your breath away, thoughts guttering out as he licks into your mouth hungrily. You lose yourself in the feeling of him, feeling like you’re on fire. 

Seungcheol falls backward on the bed. His lips are swollen and pink, eyes heavy-lidded as he stares up at you. He reaches for you but you give him a coy smile and slip from his lap, crouching to the floor and running your hands along his thighs, feeling them flex beneath your touch. 

You love Seungcheol’s thighs. Your nails drag across the fabric and he lets out a breathy sound. His muscles twitch as you reach to brush your fingers over his zipper, making sure to press into his cock. His hips jerk upward at the barest hint of stimulation and you grin.

“It’s no elevator,” you tease. “But will this do?” 

“Fucking anywhere will do.” 

Seungcheol has always been sensitive. He’s easy to rile, cock already firm by the time you’re undoing his belt and he’s helping you pull his dress pants down his thighs. You eye the dark patch in his briefs, proud that with just a little bit of kissing and some light touching he’s already leaking at the tip.

Sitting high on your knees, you lean forward, tongue pressing wetly to the tip of his cock through the fabric. A hand shoots to the back of your head, his fingers gripping you firmly as you laugh, tongue still pressed to him and soaking through his briefs.

“Don’t you dare tease me tonight,” he warns, voice shaky. “That is not wifey behavior.” 

You remove your tongue, pouting and moving to press a kiss to his thigh. “You never let me tease you.” 

“I’m not patient.” Your teeth scrape the softness of his flesh and his legs twitch, knees knocking your shoulder. “Baby, I am so serious.”

Biting your bottom lip to hide a smile, you give in. You know with certainty he’d let you drag this out if you really wanted to. Seungcheol is impatient and greedy and demanding, but he also lets you do what you want when it comes down to it. 

Instead of testing his grace, you peel his briefs down, freeing his cock. Your mouth waters at his thick length, your hand automatically reaching up to grab him. You swipe your thumb through the precum gathered, using it to slide down the full length of his shaft.

Seungcheol’s hips buck. You grip him properly, working him slowly as you shuffle closer on your knees. They already hurt, hotel carpet digging into them but you ignore it in favor of watching the way his fingers slowly undo the button of his shirt, needing to shuck the fabric off. 

“You’re pretty,” you note absently. His stomach flexes when he sits up to slide his shirt off of his shoulders. He looks down at you, pupils dilated. “Very, very pretty.” 

“You’re a work of art yourself.”

Instead of laying back down flat, he leans back on his palms, letting his head fall back. Seungcheol shuts his eyes, face tilted up at the ceiling as though in prayer. “Feels good.”

Humming happily, you lean forward and slowly run the flat of your tongue up the base of his shaft. That draws a low moan out of him, his chest rising and falling as he pants. You’re fascinated by his reactions, watching his face and body language carefully as you swirl your tongue around the crown of his cock.

He’s responsive, fingers digging into the sheets in an effort not to grab your head and take control. He’s testing his patience, letting you bring him into the wet heat of your mouth at your pace, sucking lazily. 

“Fuck,” he groans. You hum around him and he shakes his head, shivering. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Good you think, setting a proper place as you swallow him down, letting your spit pool to help make the glide easier. It’s messy and wet, just the way Seungcheol likes it, his moans backtracking the slick sounds coming from your mouth.

What you can’t fit in your mouth properly, you cover with your hand, squeezing periodically as you stroke upward, meeting your stretched lips. 

“God,” Seungcheol whispers. “You know how to suck cock.”

Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you grin, feeling the sting in your mouth from the stretch. Your lips are cum and spit-slicked, sticky as you continue to stroke him. 

“Thanks,” you laugh. “I heard I’m wifey material.”

“Fucking, shit, yeah a little bit. Fuckkkk, mouth please.” 

You comply, sucking him back into your mouth. He’s putty underneath you, hips twitching off the bed a little as soft sounds drip from his mouth. You watch, totally hypnotized by the way he moved, the way his hairline gets a little sweaty as he nods, encouraging you. 

Biting his lip, he lifts a hand from the bed to grab at you, pulling you off of him. “Come here,” he growls, opening his. 

Seungcheol pulls you to him, not caring that your mouth is a mess. His tongue delves in, exploring the mixed taste of champagne and precum, hands pulling at your dress to peel it off of you. 

“Let me sit against the headboard,” he pants, breaking the kiss to scoot backward. You peel your underwear off and toss them, following him across the mattress as he settles. He pats his lap and reaches for you. “Come here, baby.” 

You settle into his lap again, mouth melding to his. His hands explore you, gripping your ass, squeezing your waist, running up your front to pinch at your nipples. You moan into his mouth, carding your fingers in his hair and pulling at the stimulation, your head tilting back a little.

He takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your throat, biting sharply and soothing the sting with his tongue. Sinking a little lower, you feel your pussy brush against his cock and you sigh, gently rolling your hips to slide your sticky folds up his shaft. 

Seungcheol groans against you, mouth feverish against your skin. He maps your throat, kissing and biting his way to your chest, where he steals a pert nipple into his mouth to give a harsh suck. You squeal and he grins, plucking at your sensitive bud with his teeth. 

Holding onto him, you let him lavish attention to your tits the way he wants, hands squeezing, tongue flicking. It feels good. Aflame, you continue to roll your hips shallowly in his waist, just giving the barest of stimulation to you both.

A hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your swelling clit, pressing against it. You whine loudly, fighting off a violent shiver. He grins where he has your breast in his mouth, sucking generously as he lazily circles your clit with his fingers. 

“Cheol,” you whisper-whine. “You said no teasing.”

“I said no teasing me.” His fingers slide backward and dip into your entrance teasingly. You clench around nothing, aching for him to do something. “Flustered, huh?” 

“Please give me something.”

He presses his lips against the side of your jaw, grinning. “Fine.” He sinks a single finger into you and you sigh in immediate relief. It isn’t enough but it’s something, your hips rocking to take him in deeper. “Better?”

“I can take more.” 

“Of course you can.” He pushes in another finger, the stretch so good. “You’re my girl. You can take what I give you.”

Dropping your head to his shoulder, you nod. You hide your face in his flushed skin, riding his fingers as he slowly slides them home, working you gently. They press against your sensitive spot and you curse, gripping him a little tighter. 

Impatient and needing more, you grind yourself forward, fucking his hand properly. He laughs, letting you take what you need, cupping you fully so the heel of his palm grinds into your clit. Your movements are frenzied, driven by the desire for him, the feeling curling inside you. 

“Just like that,” he encourages. “Fuck yourself on my fingers just like that.” 

You do, thighs aching and body shaking. The sheets stick to your legs as you work yourself up, sweaty palms sliding against Seungcheol’s shoulders. He whispers in your ear, voice low and scratchy, adding to the building mania inside of you. 

“Shit,” you hiss, feeling the tightness in your stomach start to boil over. 

“Come on, come around my fingers. You got it.” 

His gentle voice pushes you over all the way and you clench around his fingers, coming undone. Your hips stop moving and your legs squeeze around his as you seize up. Seungcheol is having none of it, taking the lead to drive his fingers up into you as you flutter around him.

“Oh,” you gasp as he finer fucks you through the rest of your orgasm, sucking at a tender spot on your neck until you’re trembling and a mess. “Okay, okay, okay.” 

Seungcheol takes it easy on you, pulling his fingers from between your legs with a slick noise. You heave against him, catching your breath while he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks obnoxiously. 

“Mmm.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He smacks your ass and you squeak. “Ride my cock like that?” 

Huffing, you extend to your full height on your knees. He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes fixed on the mess between your legs as you sink down slowly. His tip breaches you, both of you letting out a sound as you keep going, holding your breath as he stretches you open.

Seungcheol taps your waist. “Breathe.” 

You do, inhaling a breath as you nestle in his lap, seated fully, clenching around him. “Thanks.”

“Mhmm.” 

Seungcheol’s hands move up your sides, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. This time, you know the look in his eye is real. His gaze is covetous, looking at you like you’re his because you are. 

You catch his hands with yours, linking your finger and squeezing. He smiles, looking up at you with dark locks of hair in his face. You smile back, starting to roll your hips, using his hands to steady yourself.

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. The cool air of the hotel room brushes across your back, making you shiver. The mattress dips under your movement, your thighs flexing to keep your balance steady, Seungcheol’s grip on you helping. 

“You’re so perfect,” Seungcheol mutters, using your linked hands to pull you toward him. Your hands slip from him, going to the headboard to help lift you instead. His grip finds your waist, aiding in your movement while his mouth finds your breasts. “God these tits.” 

An ache settles in your thighs but you ignore it, chasing an orgasm. You tremble in his hold, breath punching out of you as he mumbles your name, watching you with fucked out eyes and lips parted, like you’re giving him everything he ever wanted.

You kind of feel that way. The way he looks at you isn’t that different from before, but now you’re confident in it, realizing that everything with Seungcheol felt too intimate because it was. Casual was never the right name for it, neither of you having any idea how to really be no strings attached. 

“My fucking legs hurt,” you admit, panting. “Can you take over?” 

“Mhmm.” Seungcheol surges forward, knocking you backward onto the bed. You laugh, bouncing a little as he pulls out and helps maneuver you. “Turn around for me.” 

With shaking arms, you follow his instruction. The sheets cling to you as you roll, making you huff and swat at them. He chuckles, peeling them away from your sweaty skin while you settle on your stomach, arching your ass a little. 

He palms your left cheek, groaning and dragging his blunt nails down the curve to your hip where he grabs you. “Unreal,” he whispers, to either you or himself. 

You gasp when he thrusts pack in, punching the air from your lungs as he sets a sharp pace. You jostle on the bed, grabbing the sheets and knotting your hands in them to keep you in place, a stream of whimpers leaving you. 

A hand slips up your spine, pressing flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further into the bed. You gasp and nod, Seungcheol taking it as a sign to put more weight into it, angling his hips so he’s fucking down into you. 

It’s hard to breathe, the dizziness taking over as your skin starts to turn to static, orgasm so close that you can feel the buzz between your legs. He keeps going like that, pinning you hard to the bed as his hips crash into yours. 

His name leaves your mouth in a cry as you squeeze around him, letting loose. He curses, picking up his pace, ignoring the wet squelch as he does, palm pressing you harder into the bed as you come. 

You think you might disintegrate, unable to do anything but make broken sounds as he chases his orgasm. Just when you think you might not get another breath, he comes, the pressure on your back lifting a little. You gasp for air, feeling the room tilt as his thrusts slow, becoming gentle. 

Seungcheol’s hands are soothing on your back, fingers dancing up and down your spine, delicate. He’s muttering something to you but you can’t hear him, the pounding of your heart far too loud, pulse rattling in your ears. 

When his hips are still, his hands keep moving. He leans over you, careful not to put his weight on you, mouth kissing across your shoulders. Your cheek is pressed flat against the sheet as you pant, coming down from a fever pitch. 

“You okay if I get up and get you water?” the question is whispered across your cheek, where Seungcheol presses a tender kiss. You nod and he kisses you again before peeling away from you. 

Laying in the bed, you drift, listening to him shuffle around to the kitchen. You’re sleepy but more aware now. When the bed dips again, you crack your eye open, watching as he navigates carefully on his knees, two glasses of water in hand. 

“Can you sit up or do you need help?” You shake your head and muster the strength you have left to sit up. Your muscles spasm as you do, a groan leaving your mouth as the room spins from the change in perspective. “You okay?”

“Thirsty,” you rasp, reaching for the glass he offers. Gulping down the cool water, you’re aware of his eyes on you, watching you drain the glass as he sips his. “Thank you.”

He takes the empty glass and kisses your lips. “Mhmm. Need more?”

“No, I’m good. I just need to sleep for five hundred years, no big deal.” 

“Damn, five hundred goes crazy. Do you think we’ll have flying cars by then?” 

Seungcheol puts both glasses on the nightstand and peels back the covers of the bed. He slips under them, patting the spot next to him. You crawl over, limbs heavy and uncoordinated. He laughs at you and you scowl, but manage to clamber in next to him, warm beneath the blankets and tucked into his chest.

“Yes, definitely. And like giant sexy holograms advertising porn, probably.”

“That’s the first thing you think of in the future? Porn?”

“Listen,” you huff, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes. “I’m still a little champagne buzzed and you just fucked me until I couldn’t breathe for a while. Cut me slack.” 

“Sure thing, wifey.” 

“Ugh. Is that our thing now?” 

“Mhmm. Everything pre-relationship has henceforth been replaced with the relationship-only era. Pretend you have amnesia.” 

A huff of laughter leaves you. “Sure thing.” 

“I mean I feel like I have amnesia.” You give him a questioning look. He’s contemplative, staring with unseeing eyes as he plays with your fingers. “I had an entire life and habits before you, and I swear it’s like sometimes my memory actually starts with that first night at the bar.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re just around a lot and I like to think it’s always been that way. And I’m kind of sorry for taking so long to admit nothing about this was casual for me.” 

You smile. “Wasn’t for me either.” 

“Good.” He snuggles into you, settling in silence for a few moments. “Thanks for letting me win pool that first night.” 

“I did not let you win that game, oh my god.” 

“Just admit it! You wanted to taste my goodies and you let me win.” 

“I’m gonna give you some damn amnesia,” you mutter, but grin as he hugs you tight.

“Sure thing, wifey. Sure thing.” 

-

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[reiderwriter]

💢 At Each Other's Throats 💢

Spencer Reid x female! Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: A previous encounter means that you're not the biggest fan of Spencer Reid, and you go to some extreme lengths to prove that to him.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dom! Spencer, but not exactly sub reader , degradation (use of whore, slut), semi-public foreplay, arguing as foreplay etc, oral sex (m receiving, f mentions, too), face fucking, rimming, nipple play, rough sex/ rough play, spanking, slapping, spitting, choking, messy sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of painful sex/ pain play etc. some possible CNC triggers/ phrasing.

A/N: I couldn't find a gift of Spencer being bitchy enough, so everyone, please enjoy Kyle Orfman from Life After Beth. This one was a labour of love, if love was actually hate. It's 2am. This is obviously not edited, and may never be.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You knew from reputation alone that you would have a hard time working with Spencer Reid. Perhaps it was the slew of child prodigy articles that popped up alongside his name. Maybe it was even just your preconceived notion of what men with three PhDs, a badge, and a gun were like. Maybe it was the fact that he'd written to you after one of your first professional articles was published in The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology and told you a piece you'd worked on for 18 months was just plain wrong. 

Either way, you laid eyes on him, and the hatred was cemented. But fuck was he hot. 

He had no clue who you were as his boss introduced you to him, looking between the two of you as if expecting good things to happen. You should've warned him. 

“Spencer, this is Y/N. She'll be assisting on a few cases from this month onwards.” 

His eyes glazed over as he ran your name through whatever roller index of memories he had stored in there. 

“Y/N is a lecturer at the University of Virginia. She's going to be lecturing at the FBI Academy from September onwards-” 

“You! You wrote an article, I wrote to you about it, did you get my le-”

“Yes, I got your letter. I believe you called my writing ‘juvenile’ and my thinking ‘wishful,’ and that if I had any actual field experience, I'd slowly understand how many mistakes there were in my writing.” 

Agent Hotchner took an almost imperceptible deep breath in, trying to hide the fact that this was all new information to him. 

“Well, here I am, Doctor Reid.” 

The man in front of you gaped for a moment, letting his mouth hang open, closing after a few seconds only to open again. Perhaps you'd disorganized that index of his. You hoped you'd set the goddamn thing alight. 

“Shall we get started?”

To say that you'd gotten off to a bad start was an understatement. Your start had been reversed over by a dump truck with no tires. It had been cemented into the ground with no chance of going anywhere but down into the pits of hell. 

Which is, coincidentally, where you found yourself every time you had to engage Spencer Reid in conversation. 

Your first impression of his looks - his incredibly good looks - was that he was even better looking when he was pensive, and unhappy, and being bitchy. He was positively climbable when argumentative, and you liked nothing more than ruining his day, if just for the fact that he'd angrily loosen his tie and pop open his top buttons, exposing the pale white of his neck, and his sharp collar bones, perfectly ready for someone to suck and nip at. 

He was still an ass, however, and you couldn't bring yourself to sink to those depths.

Four cases in, and you hadn't agreed on one thing. You'd caught a serial arsonist, who he had demanded was most likely an office worker, but you'd countered with college student, and you had prevailed there. 1-0. 

Then, unfortunately, you'd lost back to back cases with unsubs in the trucking industry, unfamiliar with and uninterested in the life of the Jack Kerouac type. 

You'd even the playing field at last with a child abduction. And although you knew you'd both been keeping score, you were so genuinely happy for this case to be over. A child was safe at home, and you'd worked so well under pressure (something he had assured you would change your view of your personal forensic psychology theories). 2-2. 

Of course, those were just the big leagues. You'd fought many petty battles, too, as the war waged. 

You'd accidentally stolen his place on the jet, enjoying the long bench seat for a good few naps. A few times, he'd settled in next to you, trying to nudge you out of the chair completely, but you'd held your ground. 

“This is my seat. Usually. There are like 10 other places on this jet to sit. Why does it have to be here?” He'd grumbled into your ear as you gently elbowed him in the side, accidentally, of course.

“There aren't assigned seats. Maybe you have control issues, Doctor,” you cut back, trying to avoid speaking too loud to avoid the ire of the group. 

While you'd enjoyed bickering with - and intellectually besting - Spencer greatly, it did seem that the sentiment wasn't shared by those around you. 

“You can't be serious, right now,” Morgan complained from a seat opposite. “You're seriously fighting over a seat, right now?” 

“It's my seat, Derek, come on, you know it's my seat.” 

The look returned to Spencer almost had you ashamed of your petty actions. 

“I swear they're just taking every advantage to get closer and closer together. Next thing you know, she'll be sitting in his lap,” Emily said from the corner of the plane, so obviously not talking to you that you were almost offended. 

“Ah, young infatuation,” Rossi replied, still ignoring you. 

Reid slinked just slightly away after that, and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the comments themselves or the loss of his annoying companionship. 

You wanted him to bother you because it meant you'd succeeded in bothering him. 

You'd had more than your fair share of rather explosive arguments as well. 

“You can't seriously believe that Thomas Edison did more for the field of engineering than Nikola Tesla,” he'd shouted at you at a bar after a case had landed you in paperwork hell, filling out forms and working into the late hours. 

A drink had been suggested, a celebration after solving four straight cases in a row, and you'd gladly taken the chance to unwind. 

“Spencer, we're literally sat in a bar decorated with multiple light bulbs. Look, there's one. Another! Astounding. Thank you, Mr Edison.” 

“And none of it would be possible without Alternating Current, so yes. Thank you, Mr Tesla.” 

Your teammates had long since abandoned you to your petty bickering and fighting amongst yourselves. They'd stopped getting involved when Penelope had tried to mediate your discussion about Doctor Who, which had quickly devolved into New Who vs Old Who. 

You didn't even care strongly either way, you just cared that he did. And however he felt, you were sure as hell ready to take up arms against him. Because it was so fuckimg hot watching him lose his shit. 

You were a grown woman. You could admit that to yourself. You likely wouldn't admit it to anyone else, even if it was as clear as day that you found him unbearable attractive at times. You sure as hell knew that it wasn't a one-way street, from the way his eyes strolled across your body each morning. 

You wondered if there was a section of his brain that was dedicated to memorising everything you'd said, done, and worn since he'd met you. You hoped there was. 

On your fifth and final case with the BAU team, you felt unmatched in your annoyance. 

You were still drawn with Spencer for case breakthroughs, and you felt the need to beat him once again just to nail the point home. He was just stubborn enough to see a 3-2 win as a landslide victory for himself, though you were absolutely going to frame it that way yourself if you managed to be the one to crack everything. 

All sense of teamwork and camaraderie was off the table. 

You had a murderer to catch.

Three women, beaten, assaulted, and tied up. He'd shorn their hair but bagged them up so they were unseen. Then he'd placed the bags on display. The unsub was caught between two extremes, hatred of his victims, and gentleness, protecting their dignity in death by covering them up. 

Obviously, you and Spencer had to decide which side of the debate you were to land on.

“I think we're dealing with a killer without remorse here. It's easier to explain the covering, the dressing of the women as a ritual rather than guilt.” 

He'd finally played his cards, and now it was your turn to passionately wipe them from the table. 

“Remorse? He's cut all their hair off and beat half of them so badly we needed dental to identify them. And in case you've forgotten Spencer, half of them are prostitutes.”

“You're saying he can't feel remorse for killing prostitutes?”

“That is not what I'm saying. Don't twist my words."

“Well, of you'd said something that wasn't nonsensical, I'd have a better chance of understanding what the hell you're trying to say!’

With every line you'd stepped closer and closer to one another, like two boxers in a ring, sizing each other up before a fight. 

You wanted to take his tie and strangle him with it. You wanted to pull him down for a kiss and force him to shut the hell up. 

“Reid, Y/N, both of you take five,” Hotch called sternly from the other side of the room. Guiltily, you both broke away from one another, his hand brushing your side as you took a step back, almost as if he'd meant to grab you before Hotch stepped in. 

Probably to remove you from the room. 

“Take five?” You said, mustering all the disappointment you could as you silently pleaded to stick around. 

“Go back to the motel and get some rest. If you're going to argue like this, I don't need you at the precinct, and I certainly don't need you on my team.” 

You blanched at that, almost taken aback by the harsh words as you silently nodded and quietly walked towards the door, letting it shut behind you. 

Spencer stayed behind, and though you couldn't hear his arguments, you knew he was attempting to reason with Hotch, as well. It evidently didn't work as he stormed out of the room behind you. 

He looked half like a kicked puppy, half like an angry school kid who'd just been scolded by a teacher. 

“Don't look at me like that, this is your fault,” you muttered as you walked away from the room. 

“What? How is this my fault?” 

“If you weren't so goddamn infuriating, we'd be able to get some actual work done.” 

You marched off in the direction of the exit, but he caught your shoulder before you made it that far.

“You're blaming me? This is my job, Y/N, not yours. You get to go back to a cushy little office after this is done to teach the people that are going to end up doing the paperwork that consists of only 2% of our job.”

His finger jabbed at your shoulder as he said the words, and you had to resist the temptation to grab it. 

“Doesn't feel too good to be criticized when you're just doing your job, huh, Spencer?” 

His brows knitted together in a deepened scowl and he took a step forward. 

But there were eyes on you, and whatever confrontation this was, you didn't want to act it out in front of an office full of cops. 

You turned and walked away again, down a seemingly abandoned hall to what looked to be an empty storage cupboard, flinging the light on and waiting the three seconds it took him to catch up with you. 

“What's your problem?” He said, joining you in the cramped closet. 

“You! You're the problem! You're infuriating, and annoying, and most important, you're you!” You poked his chest back, harder than he had earlier, quietly reveling in the feel of his body under your fingertip. 

“Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to be someone different? Someone who worships the ground you walk on?” He said, discovering sarcasm for the first time since you'd been introduced. 

“Sure, Spencer, if you can take tour head out of your own ass long enough to worship someone else, then be my guest.” 

With a single push he crowded you against the wall, a hand above your head locking you into position as his other hand held your hip, his own hips joining you at the wall as you sucked in a breath. 

“You're begging to hear praise, right now, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself?” He asked, whispering the words directly into your ear. 

“W-Well, you have me pressed up against the wall like some fucking caveman that needs to breed or die.” You spent half the time you were talking trying to compensate for the stutter, trying not to look weak, that you totally missed the words that came from your own mouth. 

“You think I want to have sex with you?” He asked, chuckling awkwardly, even as his hand on your hip began rubbing circles, his head hanging lower, just inches away from your mouths meeting. 

“I think you'd love nothing more,” you said, finally lifting your hands to his hair and tucking a lock behind his ears. “Such a shame I won't be crawling into your bed.” 

“Is that a challenge?” He asked, and you were taken aback for a few seconds. 

“You want me so fucking bad, you're trying to convince yoursel-”

With a swoop, he cut you off, his lips meeting yours. You gasped and allowed his tongue to enter your mouth, but you came to your senses quickly. You kissed back with all the anger of the last month and all the attraction that had built up since you'd joined the team. Your tongue fought his, your hands tangled in his hair as his pulled them out, pinning them against a wall. But you slipped free and grabbed him again, grabbing the tie you'd wanted to choke him with earlier and not letting go. 

His lips were soft, and his body felt hot pressed against you, and you hated how good he was at all of this, how your body responded to his, how each time you pulled away it was with a small whimper as you begged for more. 

“I knew you wanted me,” he said, between kisses, grabbing your face and tilting it up as he returned his tongue to yours. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you kissed me first.” His hands trailed up your hips, untucking your shirt as he pushed his hand under, his cold fingers sending a trail of goosebumps along your skin as you shuddered. 

“I kissed you because you begged me to,” he said, his fingers caressing the bottom of your chest as he tried to press your bra up further. 

You were about to argue back when his lips met yours again, and you were lost in the haze of arousal, leg lifting to his hip to better allow him space to settle against you. 

You grew wilder in your passion, neither of you giving in even for one second as you writhed against each other, begging for satisfaction while denying that you'd ever wanted each other in the first place. Just as it became unbearable, your hands slipping to his belt, ready to pull his cock free and take it, the door opened again. 

“Reid, Y/N,” Morgan said from the doorway as you hastily jumped away from each other. 

You pulled your shirt down quickly, and Spencer stepped behind you, covering up the tent in his pants as you stared guiltily up at Derek Morgan. 

“Hotch sent me after you to give you the keys to the SUV,” he grumbled, making no comment on anything that happened. 

“We were just, um, we were just-” your brain fought for an excuse, but you'd left your brain behind somewhere between joining the BAU and foreplay with Spencer in a closet, so words escaped you. 

“You were just making out in a closet. It's okay, we all know,” Derek said, turning to leave. 

You jumped up, indignant now he'd brushed you off, and followed him out of the closet, an equally shocked Spencer trailing behind you. 

“What do you mean you all know? All know what?” You said, stomping back into the office. 

“That you two are into each other. It's why Hotch sent you away earlier. He didn't want to see the two of you going at it,” he said, pressing the car keys into your hands. 

“We are not into each other,” Spencer shouted back at Morgan as he stalked off, and you glared at him to shut his mouth. There was a crowd forming, and you still didn't need that attention. Not when your hair was matted from seven minutes in hell with Spencer or when his hand had, once again, settled on your hip, pulling you closer into him. 

“Let's go,” you huffed, and finally left the building with Spencer right behind you. 

You didn't talk for the rest of the drive home, even as your brain flooded itself with images of him taking you in the back of the car, your lips around his dick as he drove, him pulling over to bend you over the hood. 

You went straight to your separate rooms when you got back to the motel, though you swore that the walls were thin enough that he surely heard you pleasure yourself, fingers sinking into yourself. You weren't sure if he, too, had his hand wrapped around his cock, or if your brain was just now imagining whatever it liked to spur you on. 

Imagined or real, his moans were delicious, a maddening mix of frustration, exasperation and desperation, whimpers and groans, and small growls until you yourself were cumming, and letting yourself sleep.

You avoided talking, all talking, until the end of the case, even as your head replayed his infuriating words, his moans and the rustling sound of his fingers pressing your shirt up. You refused to talk to him to give his coworkers the validation of arguing with him once more. You weren't into each other. 

You simply wanted to fuck him. You didn't like him as a person otherwise. 

In avoiding him, though, the small taste of release you'd sampled in the closet had your softer parts deliriously wanting more. As much as you hated Spencer, you needed him so bad. 

You'd given him the cold shoulder  but he'd returned it just as quickly, and you were more annoyed not talking to him than you weren't. 

Your last case wrapped up, and you decided it was time to give him what he so obviously wanted. A conversation. 

You sat yourself right back down in his seat as you got on the jet and laid down, pulling his blanket over yourself as you took up the entire space. 

The others shook their heads at you as they walked on, Spencer taking up the rear. His eyes met yours, and he scowled, and you couldn't help but wonder if he'd look like that fucking you, so stern and angry. 

You sighed and pushed onto your side as he stood over you. 

“That's my seat.” 

You smiled in success as you looked over your shoulder. 

“I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.” 

“But that is my seat-” 

“Spencer, you've sat on every seat on this damn plane before, that wasn't your seat until last month, now sit down, shut up and let me rest,” JJ exploded and you suddenly felt bad for drawing him into your argument.  Or you did until you sat up a bit, and he sat himself right down where your head had been. 

“Spencer!”

“I give up…” JJ groaned from the table seats, pulling headphones over her head and shutting her eyes, and the others made to ignore you similarly. 

Not one to be beaten, you pushed the book in his hands off his lap and laid your head down again, now cushioned by his legs. 

“What-” his voice squeaked as you shut your eyes, too, and made yourself comfortable. He didn't push you off, or, heaven forbid, start talking to you again. Shockingly, he adjusted to the position quickly and resigned himself to pillow duty for the six hour flight. 

You, too, shocked yourself by how fast you fell asleep. You woke up with his hands in your hair, stroking your head as he read, book in one hand, you in the other. His hands felt wonderful, raking through your long locks, brushing each errant hair off your face. 

“Spencer?” You said, voice still thick with sleep. 

His hand shot away, and you almost regretted not pretending to sleep for longer, sure that he'd have gone on if you hadn't said anything. 

You straightened and cleared your own throat as you stretched, sitting quietly as you listened to the flight landing announcement. 

“Congrats, Y/N, you've successfully finished your time with the BAU,” Rossi said from his seat opposite you, strapping in for the landing.

“And you haven't been shot, kidnapped, or slapped. That's gotta be a first, right?” Emily joked from the corner. 

You smiled quietly as you strapped yourself down, scooting even closer to Spencer now to get your belt fastened.

Still, you couldn't resist the urge to mumble a retort.

“I'm sure Spencer thought about it a few times,” you sighed, a breath of resignation releasing from your lips dramatically.

The others chuckled, but Spencer sat silently next to you until the jet landed. 

He stayed quiet as he began to pack his things, but it became clear quickly that he was dragging everything out. As the plane emptied, you shot him a curious look, not daring to speak until you were the last two on the plane. 

“You're being slow today.” 

“I've never thought about shooting you or kidnapping you,” he said, voice low and quiet, even though you were alone. 

“It was a joke, Spencer,” you started, so sick of him taking g everything so seriously. You made to walk past him, but as you did, you felt his hand on your waist pulling you back as another hand came hard and fast at your ass. 

“I wasn't finished speaking,” he said as his hand ran over your butt, soothing the pain he'd just delivered. “I have thought about slapping you, though.” 

With that he grabbed his bag and stalked off the jet, not bothering to cast another look behind him. 

Two could play at that game. 

In about the most childish was you could muster, you ran ahead of him, staying three paces directly in front of him as he tried to overtake you. You moved when he moved. You sped up when he sped up. You even stopped a few times, so he'd run into you. 

“Y/N, cut it out.”

“Make me,” you said, throwing a withering look over your shoulder. 

He didn't wither. 

Instead, he grabbed your arm and marched you all the way through the FBI building, down to the parking lot, and into your car. As soon as he had you safely in the driver's seat, he closed the door, pulling off your visitors' pass. 

“I'll return this for you, no need for you to dally.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat out the window as you started the ignition. 

“It's been a pleasure,” he said with a grimace. 

“No, it hasn't,” you said back, wondering how long you'd spend in jail of you just mowed him down then and there. 

“You’re right. It hasn't,” he said, leaning down and into the window so you were now eye to eye. 

“Really? It seems like you got a lot of pleasure out of spanking me earlier. You were certainly experiencing a lot of pleasure when you pushed me up against a wall last week. If it wasn't pleasure, there was definitely something long-”

“Long?” He smirked.

“And hard in your pants.” 

He leaned in through the window, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he whispered into your ear. 

“That was my gun.” 

“And I certainly won't be helping you fire a load,” you said, starting the ignition and pushing him back from the window as you drove away from the FBI and away from Spencer Reid. 

It infuriated him that you'd gotten the last word. You'd spent a month with him and hadn't even given him a chance to show off his good qualities, and then you'd left without giving him a chance to prove himself. 

And, in doing so, you'd told a blatant lie. 

There had been two people in that closet, two people with tongues desperate for contact, eager for battle. You'd been moaning just as much as he had when his hands found your nipples. 

But you'd gotten to drive away without listening to his retort, and it was killing him. 

He sat and seethed at his desk for a while, waiting for the sense of relief that you were gone to wash over him. This had been what he wanted for weeks. Why was he now so discontent? Why did everything feel wrong? 

Abandoning paperwork he knew wouldn't be needed until at least next week, Spencer found your address in the team files, wrote it down, and left his desk. 

When you got home, there was nothing waiting for you. 

It was annoying. You'd spent the last month constantly on the go, always with more work, more cases, more paperwork. You'd killed any apparent gaps with Spencer. 

You could still feel his hands on your ass. You hated to admit it, but in your short acquaintance with Doctor Asshat, you'd grown fond of having him around as eye candy. When he wasn't being annoying (talking, breathing, or generally just being), you could quite happily imagine his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping up every drop of cum you had to offer. 

There were definitely better things he could be doing with his mouth, in any case. 

Your body felt hot, itchy, and neglected as you got home, running a shower immediately and stepping in. 

The water was hot, and the room steamed up faster than you expected. You washed away the fatigue, and you washed away the dirt of a month of cheap motels.. 

Just as you were about to wash away the memories of Spencer Reid and his stupidly skilful tongue, the doorbell rang. 

It wasn't unusual for you to get visitors at 10 pm, but usually they announced themselves. 

You stayed put in the shower. It was probably a package you'd ordered, and it could honestly wait. 

The ringing, though, didn't stop. Whoever was at your door was insistent. First, the door rang to the rhythm of jingle bells. Then, they moved on to Fur Elise. When they got to Flight of the Bumblebees Levels of bullshit, you couldn't stand it anymore. 

You wrapped a towel around you and pulled the door open wide. 

“Sp- mm?” You said, shocked to see him there, but completely floored by his appearance, and more importantly the two hands he'd planted on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a hot, hard, and fast kiss. 

You pushed him off with a hard slap to his face, and stalked further into your apartment, knowing he'd follow closely behind.

You heard the door slam shut as he made to grab you again, but you stayed just out of reach. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“I came because neither of us will move on without this.”

“Oh, you need me so much you won't be able to move on if you don't fuck me?” You scoffed, expecting a sarcastic answer to a sarcastic question. 

“Yes,” he said, and your shock at his earnestness gave him the moment he needed to grab at you again. 

This time, though, the tiny towel that had been holding your dignity in place dropped to the floor as Spencer Reid pinned you against the wall. 

“Already fucking bare and wet for me, how well-behaved.”

“Go fuck yourself!” you said, even as his hands cupped your breasts, grabbing and pulling both of your nipples, making you moan.

“See, your mouth is being a bitch, but your body is being a whore.” 

“Just fuck me won't you? No need to run your mouth.” 

“I think we're finally in agreement on something,” he said, pushing you to your knees. 

“What? Sp-” 

In one quick swoop he released his cock from his pants and wrapped a hand around all of your hair as he slid it down your waiting throat. 

As much as you protested, your mouth was wide open, and your hands wrapped around him just as eagerly. 

Holding your head still, Spencer began to talk as he fucked your throat. 

“There we go. That's exactly how I've needed you for the last month.”

You glared at him as you sank your nails into his thighs, gagging on his cock as he picked up his pace.

With two taps on his leg, you requested a moment, and he quickly pulled his dick out of your mouth. 

You coughed quickly, then spat out all of your accumulated drool before looking up at him. 

Part of you wanted to force him down next to you, to make him taste your cunt the way you'd thought about earlier. The other part, the larger part, was excited about him using you. 

He grabbed his dick and slapped your face with it, returning your earlier hit. He was waiting for you to open up again so he could cum down your throat and leave. 

“Open,” he demanded. 

You didn't comply, but you stuck out your tongue, lapping at his tip slowly as you sat on your hands. He held his breath as you kissed the underside of his shaft, making his way to his balls. You reached them and finally sucked them into your mouth, making sure to look up and make eye contact with him as you toyed with his private place.

He didn't argue or complain. Instead he fisted a hand into your hair and dragged you to your bedroom. 

Divesting himself of his pants and shirt, he sat down and, still on all fours, pushed your face back into his crotch. Perched on the edge of your bed, he held his cock up and served himself to you. 

“Well? Get back to it, Y/N.” 

Your tongue found his cock first as his hands massaged his balls, playing with them gently as you licked all the way to his tip then buried yourself between his asscheeks. You licked at the skin between his ass and balls, you tasted every inch of him, and you grew angry that he still hadn't done this for you. 

Against his wished, you rose and spat on his cock, before squeezing it hard. 

“Spencer, are you going to fuck me or are you just going to ruin my makeup?” 

“You look prettier with spit coating your face than you've looked with any lipstick,” he said as you pushed him down onto the bed and grabbed his cock. 

Straddling his waist, you were surprised he.let you sink down onto his cock without so much as another word. You felt him fill you up, one inch, then another until you sat fully sheathed on top of him. 

And then he flipped you over so he was back in control. 

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered as he pulled out and thrust back in. 

“You wanted me to fuck you, I'm fucking you.”

You wanted to argue but all you could do was moan yes as he set a furious pace, thumb and forefinger pinching your clit as you bucked into him wildly.

You couldn't stand too much of this, knowing that you wanted to at least outlast him. You wanted to tell him how pathetic he was for cumming first, you wanted to gloat that he'd wanted you more, that he couldn't resist breeding your hot wet cunt. You knew any more of this, though, and you would instead be on the receiving end of those same taunts. 

Pushing against his chest, you used the last of your strength to flip him over again. He struggled, though, stronger than you were expecting, and you rolled together like that for a few moments.

You almost went crashing to the floor as he fought for control, but he pushed a foot off the bed and held you up with his lower body strength. The new position though forced his cock deeper, to just the right angle, and when he thrust into you again, you did something you'd never done before during sex. 

You screamed your pleasure. 

Your orgasm ripped through you, as painful as it was pleasurable, and you grabbed Spencer Reid by the neck and forced his tongue to meet yours. 

He couldn't complain, too busy moaning about your hot, wet, and now tighter cunt to worry about whether he should be kissing you. 

He pulled back and picked his pace right back up, but this time, you resisted less. Hooking a hand under your legs, he pressed your legs up, pushing his stomach and chest down just above your own as he moved slower but harder. 

You wondered if this was what other wen talked about when they said they wanted someone to beat their pussy up, to use them until they couldn't stand. You didn't think you could even think about walking again for the next month as he spread your knees apart and pinned them to the bed, unloading his cum as deep inside you as anything had ever been.

You didn't even know your body bent that way. 

Panting, he collapsed on top of you and buried his head in your shoulder, mumbling and muttering to himself as he came down from his ecstasy. 

He didn't pull out. He barely even softened as he kissed across the expanse of your throat, thrusting shallowly with each nip, until your body couldn't take anymore. 

He picked a spot and sucked, and licked and bit and soothed as he ended one round, and began another. 

“Spencer-” you said, gasping as he sat up, his cock once again standing at attention, filling you still. 

“No. Stop. Don't talk, we're not good when we talk.” 

You nodded and pulled him back for another kiss, wrapping a hand around his throat and pressing hard as he moaned and groaned into you. 

Still wet and slippery and sensitive from your first attempt, neither of you lasted long, falling to the bed when it was all over with a grunt of overexertion. 

“That was…” you said, stopping there, for once totally speechless.

“That was good?” He supplied, but just good wasn't enough. 

“Yes,” you agreed, though, not willing to let your cunt rule your mind when around him.

Anymore, at least. 

“We should… we should probably never speak again,” you said, even as your hand reached out for his, fingers tangling. 

“Of course. I'll leave, and we won't ever speak again,” he said, stroking your hand with his thumb, bringing your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your hand.

“You haven't left yet.” 

“I haven't.”

“I have nowhere to be tomorrow,” you said. “You don't…”

“I won't leave yet. We might as well enjoy this,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over your naked body. 

“We should definitely just get this out of our systems now. What's the harm in that?” 

“I agree. If we're committing to a one time thing, we might as well go all in.”

“Exactly,” you said. 

“Exactly,” he parrotted.

Exactly a year later, the members of the BAU received invitations in the post to your wedding. Because the both of you had convinced yourself that that one time had never ended and never had need to. 

[hoshifighting]

Aphrodisiac Liquor

— Synopsis: Where you're out for a night with your friends, and you decide to try an aphrodisiac liquor, feeling the warmth gradually spreading through your body, your best friend Mingyu starts to appear a little too sexy. — Word Count: 5.1k — WARNINGS: smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, chocking, overstimulation, alcohol consumption, horny asf reader, fucked out Mingyu, objetification (Mingyu mentions himself as reader's fuck toy), and dick riding.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, enveloping the dance floor in a rhythmic energy that matched the collective excitement of the reunited friends. You stood in the center of the vibrant chaos, surrounded by familiar faces and the lively atmosphere of the night.

Mingyu, your best friend, flashed a wide grin as he clinked his drink against yours. "Cheers to finally getting the gang back together!" he shouted over the music, laughter twinkling in his eyes. The last few gatherings had always felt incomplete, someone missing here or there, but tonight was different. Everyone was present, and the joy was palpable.

Woozi, the voice of reason in your group, raised an eyebrow as he observed the already empty bottles scattered across the table. "I hope you two are keeping your promise about not drinking too much," he teased, sipping his own drink with a smirk.

You and Mingyu exchanged guilty glances, aware that your resolve was already wavering. However, compared to the chaos that was unfolding around you, with Dokyeom dancing his way through the crowd like a human pinball, Seungkwan engaging in animated conversations that almost turned into arguments, and Soonyoung returning from the bar with two more bottles of liquor in hand, you and Mingyu felt relatively composed.

"Alright, I admit, maybe we'll take it easy," you chuckled, watching as Dokyeom narrowly avoided another collision on the dance floor.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, but his eyes gleamed mischievously. "Just a little more won't hurt, right?" he said, pouring a modest amount into his glass.

As the night progressed, the club transformed into a haven of laughter, dancing, and unrestrained merriment. The DJ played a mix of old favorites and current hits, prompting everyone to let loose on the dance floor. Woozi found himself reluctantly pulled into a lively dance circle, while Dokyeom continued his mission to navigate the crowd with unpredictable dance moves.

As Soonyoung proudly presented the array of liquor bottles on the table, your eyes were drawn to one particular bottle covered in an intriguing green and purple cloth. Curiosity piqued, you reached for a shot cup and poured yourself a small measure of the mysterious concoction. The liquid gleamed in the dim light of the club, promising an adventure for your taste buds.

Bringing the cup to your lips, you took a shot, savoring the sweet burn that spread across your tongue. The flavor was unique, a blend of sweetness and warmth that left a tingling sensation in its wake. Intrigued, you picked up the bottle to read more about the drink. Just under the bold name "Har" was a smaller inscription that caught your attention – "aphrodisiac drink."

You chuckled, dismissing it as a mere marketing gimmick. Placing the bottle back on the table, you rejoined the conversation with Chan, discussing music, life, and everything in between. However, as the minutes passed, you couldn't shake the subtle change in the atmosphere around you.

As Chan's voice faded into the background, your focus shifted to an inexplicable sensation coursing through your veins. A warmth, almost like a surge of electricity, tingled beneath your skin, spreading from the center of your being. Mingyu's concerned gaze met yours as you struggled to steady yourself.

"I-I'm okay," you managed to stammer out, trying to mask the sudden rush of sensations that seemed to intensify with every passing second.

But as Mingyu reached out a hand, concerned etched on his face, the effects of the mysterious drink became undeniable. Your heart raced, a flush painting your cheeks as your breaths quickened. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt – that bottle, hidden under the cloth, wasn't just any liquor. It was something more potent, something that had triggered a profound reaction within you.

"Maybe it wasn't just a slogan," you muttered, feeling both flustered and perplexed by the unexpected turn of events.

Mingyu's eyes widened in understanding as he glimpsed the bottle's label. His eyebrows shot up, mirroring your own astonishment. "An aphrodisiac drink? Seriously?" He sulks at you.

The room seemed to spin slightly as your senses heightened, and you struggled to regain composure. Mingyu steadied you, concerned. "We need to get you some fresh air," he suggested, guiding you away from the table and the increasingly curious gazes of your friends.

The air outside the club was cool against your heated skin, a welcome relief from the whirlwind of sensations that had taken hold. Mingyu hovered nearby, offering a steadying presence as you tried to regain your equilibrium.

"Is it getting any better?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, feeling the effects slowly subside. "Yeah, I think so..."

The two of you shared a glance, a mixture of amusement and disbelief coloring the moment. Mingyu chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "Note to self: avoid mysterious cloth-covered bottles from now on."

Mingyu's suggestion to head home triggered a mix of frustration and amusement within you. "I'm fine, really," you protested, your voice carrying a hint of irritation. The effects of the drink had subsided, leaving you feeling more embarrassed than anything else, but Mingyu's protectiveness had a way of both comforting and irking you at the same time.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, come on. You were practically ready to start a revolution back there," he teased, nudging you gently. "Let's not have you causing chaos in the club."

With a begrudging nod, you relented, acknowledging the logic in his words despite your reluctance. The taxi ride was a blur of streetlights and passing cars, the cool glass of the window offering a soothing sensation against your forehead as you leaned against it.

Mingyu sat beside you, occasionally stealing glances to ensure you were alright. "I know it's a bit annoying, but I'd rather get you home safe," he said, his tone softened by genuine concern.

A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude mingling within you. "I appreciate it, even if I'm not a fan of being babied," you admitted, offering a small smile in acknowledgment of his efforts.

The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence, the cityscape passing by as the taxi made its way toward your destination. Despite the unusual turn of events and Mingyu's overprotective nature, there was a sense of reassurance in having a friend who cared so deeply.

As the taxi rolled along the city streets, the heat returned, and your discomfort grew. The air conditioning in the taxi seemed to be struggling against the warmth, leaving you feeling a bit flustered. Mingyu, ever resourceful, rummaged through the pocket behind the driver's seat and emerged triumphantly with a flyer.

He grinned mischievously, turning the flyer into an impromptu fan. With a flourish, he began fanning you, creating a makeshift breeze that elicited a burst of laughter from both of you. The absurdity of the situation and Mingyu's quick thinking turned the taxi into a scene of amusement rather than discomfort.

Arriving home, the cool air of your apartment was a welcome relief from the residual warmth of the night. Mingyu, seemingly accustomed to the layout of your place, strolled in as if it were his own. The comfort of having him around, especially on a random Tuesday or after an eventful night, was a testament to the strength of your friendship.

As you disappeared into the bathroom for a much-needed cold bath, the sound of the TV coming to life echoed through the apartment. Mingyu had settled onto the couch, making himself at home with ease. The flickering light from the TV cast a soft glow on the living room, creating a cozy ambiance.

The cold water worked wonders against the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink, leaving you feeling refreshed – but not feeling like yourself, since the discomfort between your legs was still noticeable.

As you settled onto the couch beside Mingyu, he handed you a cold bottle of water, his concern for your well-being evident. The movie played on the screen, and you tried to focus on the plot, letting the scenes unfold before you. However, your attention kept drifting to the person seated next to you.

Mingyu's features seemed to catch the light in just the right way – the well-combed black hair, the slightly open buttons of his shirt, and the casual roll of his sleeves revealing the tan skin of his forearms. Your gaze couldn't help but linger on the details that seemed to intensify in the dim glow of the TV. His thick thighs encased in denim drew your eyes, and the flickering light played on his lips, making them seem unusually inviting.

Caught in the moment, your eyes met his, and a sudden awareness passed between you. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, attempting to redirect your thoughts back to the movie. You scolded yourself for entertaining such thoughts, trying to dismiss the images that lingered in your mind.

Mingyu, however, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He shot you a curious look. "Everything okay?" he asked, his eyes lingering on yours.

You nodded quickly, taking a sip of the cold water to distract yourself. "Yeah, just got lost in thought for a moment."

You fought to maintain your focus on the movie, but an undeniable sweetness lingered on your palate, a reminder of the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink. The cold bath, despite its earlier refreshing touch, seemed futile in quelling the simmering heat beneath your skin. – To be honest, now the bath didn't work shit – It pulsed through you, intensifying with each passing moment.

Your breath, once steady, now betrayed your internal turmoil. It hitched as your cheeks burned, a telltale sign of the heightened sensations coursing through your body. The discomfort between your legs became an increasingly insistent presence, pussy throbbing demanding attention.

Mingyu, sitting casually beside you, seemed to emit an allure that was impossible to ignore. His features, accentuated by the soft glow of the TV, drew your attention like a moth to a flame.

Your body seemed to betray your attempts to remain composed. Mingyu, your trusted friend, had always been someone you found attractive, but in this moment, every detail about him seemed to amplify that allure.

The internal struggle reached its peak, and you couldn't ignore the discomfort any longer. Closing your legs tightly, you attempted to find some relief, the unbidden desire making focus impossible. In a moment of desperation, you closed your eyes, hoping to regain some semblance of control.

Mingyu, sensing something amiss, took a deep breath and voiced his concern. "Are you really okay?" he asked, genuine worry etched on his face.

Opening your eyes, you knew that you looked far from composed, also known as, absolutely fucked. The internal chaos was surely mirrored in your expression. Mingyu, in his caring nature, reached a hand towards your forehead, then gently slid it down to your neck, checking for signs of fever or any indication of what might be troubling you.

As his hand moved across your skin, he could feel the heat emanating from your body, but the cause remained uncertain. The brief journey from your forehead to your neck sent shivers down your spine, and he noticed your body's involuntary response.

Meeting your gaze with a look of defeat, Mingyu asked, "What am I going to do with you?" The vulnerability of the moment was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected turn the night had taken. Mingyu, torn between concern for your well-being and the confusing dynamics of the situation, faced a dilemma that neither of you had anticipated. The unspoken tension lingered, leaving both of you suspended in a moment that seemed to redefine the boundaries of your friendship.

You found a temporary reprieve by supporting your elbow on your knees, your face cradled in your hands, desperately trying to manage the sensations coursing through your body. Mingyu, sensing your distress, gently asked, "Do you need any help?" His hand rested on your knee, the touch seemingly innocent, lacking any intentional undertones.

Lifting your torso, you looked at him with an expression that conveyed both suffering and confusion. "How?" you managed to utter, the desperation evident in your voice.

He pondered for a moment, sincerity coloring his words. "I honestly don't know," Mingyu admitted, his eyes searching for a solution to the unforeseen dilemma.

Closing your eyes tightly, you breathed loudly, attempting to steady yourself. In a moment of impulsivity, you grabbed his wrist, your eyes still shut, and began guiding his hand higher and higher. 

Mingyu's eyes widened, his attempts to maintain composure faltering. "You're not in the right mind right now," he warned, trying to inject a note of reason into the situation.

You, however, remained persistent, continuing to guide his hand higher with a suffered expression. Mingyu felt a mixture of confusion and a growing awareness that the dynamics of the moment were shifting. He struggled to compose himself, realizing that the unexpected turn of events was challenging not only for you but for him as well.

The charged atmosphere enveloped both of you as you laid your head on Mingyu's shoulder, intertwining your hands together. His touch on your thigh was hesitant, his caress slow and deliberate. Your breath, warm against his neck, sent shivers down his spine.

Mingyu bit his lip, deep in thought as he analyzed the situation. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken desires that hung between you two. The grip on your thigh tightened involuntarily as he contemplated the ways to help you, the weight of his own internal struggle evident in the furrow of his brow.

A soft moan escaped your lips, a sound that resonated through both of you. Mingyu, caught off guard by the effect his touch had on you, felt his body respond involuntarily. His grip tightened on your thigh, and a subtle warmth spread through him.

In the midst of the charged atmosphere, you sulked sultrily, your voice a low murmur that made Mingyu's body react. "What are you waiting for?" you whispered, your sultry tone sending a wave of heat through him.

Caught between the tension of the moment and the realization that there was only one effective way to help you, – fuck you until you're fully satisfied – Mingyu hesitated.

"Fuck, Y/N, I don't know," Mingyu uttered, his frustration and arousal intermingling in his voice. The charged tension in the air seemed to escalate as you lifted your face, bringing it dangerously close to his lips. Your noses brushed together, a subtle and tantalizing gesture that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Please Mingyu, please…" Your sultry tone continued to play with his senses, teasing and arousing. Mingyu, caught in the moment, found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull between you two. He managed to steal a glance at your tank top, the falling straps exposing your shoulder and the hardened nipple teasingly visible through the fabric.

In an unexpected twist, the charged atmosphere culminated in a daring move. Mingyu suddenly felt the touch of your lips on his, and his initial surprise transformed into a profound connection. Before fully giving in to the kiss, he took a momentary glance at you, a silent agreement passing between your locked eyes.

As your lips melded together, Mingyu's hand instinctively found its way to your hair, holding it gently. The kiss deepened, his mouth opening to caress your tongue with his in a dance of shared desire. The world around you seemed to fade away as you both melted into each other's arms, the unspoken tension finding its release in the passionate connection that had unexpectedly blossomed between you.

The intensity of the moment heightened as Mingyu's hand ventured inside your tank top, exploring the warmth of your skin, almost burning the skin of his hand. His fingers danced across your belly, tracing the contours of your waist, before finding their way to cup your breast. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and the heat radiating from your skin seemed to intensify under his caress.

Mingyu, his voice a low whisper, remarked on the undeniable heat emanating from your body. "Fuck baby, you're so hot…"

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips as Mingyu's touch on your breast elicited a visceral response. You acknowledged his observation with a sultry tone, admitting, "I know," the words laden with desire. The unspoken tension between you two reached a boiling point as you confessed, "I need you so bad Gyu!" 

Mingyu, propelled by a sense of urgency, swiftly guided you to the large couch. Without hesitation, he laid you down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. The fervor of the moment heightened as his hands moved with purpose, skillfully pulling down the elastic of your shorts and panties, freeing your lower half in one fluid motion. 

Mingyu wasted no time, his fingers skillfully exploring inside your wet sensitive folds, making squelching sounds reaching your ears, while his thumb worked circles on your clit, making your eyes close – finally a relief for your body – and Mingyu notices that too, making him smile at the way your body was slowly stopping from being tense. 

"Is it helping?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

You nodded, acknowledging the relief his actions had brought, but the sensations left you craving more. "It's good, but I need more," you admitted, the desire for something deeper and more intense evident in your voice.

He teased, recalling your earlier affirmation that it was enough. "Well, you said it was enough," Mingyu remarked, playfully challenging your request for more.

Your plea for increased intensity grew more urgent, and he paused, halting his movements abruptly. The sudden stop made you cry out, the rush of sensations abruptly cut off. "I need more Mingyu-ah!" you begged, your voice filled with longing and a desperate plea for the heightened pleasure you desired.

The atmosphere crackled with a palpable intensity as Mingyu, driven by the escalating desire, hastily removed his shirt, buttons scattering in the living room like a visual manifestation of the urgency in the air. His pants followed suit, tugged down with an eagerness that echoed the building tension between you two.

Just when you anticipated he would hover over you, Mingyu surprised you by getting down instead. From this new vantage point, he looked up at you, your legs spread, his gaze locked onto your aroused form, red cheeks, your pussy glistening, hair gluing on your skin and parted lips. 

Mingyu's words, spoken in a low, husky tone, carried a mix of surprise and desire. "I should've seen this coming, but... You look so wet," he remarked, his gaze shifting from your face to your core. 

Mingyu, his eyes still locked on the intimate revelation before him, couldn't help but voice the question lingering in his mind. "Is it because of the drink?" he asked, a hint of concern and curiosity in his voice.

You met his gaze, a mix of honesty and desire reflected in your eyes. "Yes," you replied, acknowledging the role the mysterious drink had played in heightening the sensations coursing through your body. But then, with a subtle but deliberate emphasis, you added, "But also because of you."

The weight of your admission hung in the air, and Mingyu, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and arousal, sought confirmation. "For real?" he asked, seeking assurance.

In response, you simply nodded. Mingyu, fueled by the shared desire and the realness of the moment, wasted no time. His mouth found your core, and the sudden sensation made you jolt, "Ah! Mingyu s-shit!" a gasp escaping your lips as you called out his name. 

He rolls his tongue around your throbbing and puffy clit, before sucking it between his red swollen lips. Mingyu's hands took hold of your thighs, pulling you closer and causing you to slide along the couch. The sudden movement left you in a state of disbelief, and your hands instinctively flew to cover your face. The realization that your best friend was now intimately between your legs, eating you out, overwhelmed you, and a mixture of shock and pleasure lingered in the air. "Fuck- gonna cum…" Your voice cracked.

The rush of sensations made your thighs involuntarily squeeze around Mingyu's head, a surge of pleasure intermingled with the overwhelming intensity of the moment. He shot you a glance, a mix of amusement and appreciation for the sudden pressure, as he continued to lavish attention on your most sensitive places. Your feet brushed against the skin of his back, the physical contact adding another layer of intimacy.

The warmth of your release against his mouth sent a shiver through Mingyu, the sensation exhilarating. The way you arched your back, screaming, calling out his name, in a tone he'd never heard you call before, made his cock twitch inside of his boxers. Mingyu found himself reveling in the sensation, realizing that this uncharted territory had opened up a new, unexplored dimension in your friendship.

Mingyu, still basking in the aftermath of the shared moment, took a moment to peel off his boxers. His arousal was evident, and the sight of his cock slapping against his abdomen left you watching in awe.

Feeling a surge of desire, you looked at him with a newfound boldness and asked, "Can I ride you?" 

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. He laughed, the sound filled with a mix of amusement and desire, before responding, "Sure, baby."

The air was thick with anticipation as you straddled Mingyu's thighs, his desire evident in the teasing glare he directed at you. Taking control, you began to pump his dick with deliberate movements, a sly smile playing on your lips. 

Guiding him to your entrance, you felt the stretch as he entered you, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. The ease with which he slid into you only intensified the raw pleasure of the moment. Mingyu's moan of approval, a low and satisfied "Hmmm" echoed through the room.

With your hips rolling in a rhythmic dance, you couldn't resist the urge to pull your top up, exposing more of your tits. However, Mingyu, seemingly wanting control, pushed your hands away. His fingers began to flicker over your exposed nipples, a teasing and tantalizing touch that made you mewl in response.

Mingyu's words, a command laden with desire, hung in the air. "Use me as your little toy," he urged. 

The suggestion lingered, and you, caught in the intensity of the moment, questioned if he was truly willing. "Will you let me?" you asked, smiling mischievous while your hips worked harder. 

His response came in a low, throaty moan, filled with both need and consent. "Yes, I'm yours. Use me as much as you want," Mingyu declared.

"Bet." 

As you lowered your body, sinking your hips harder with each motion, Mingyu's grip on your waist tightened. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving the promise of bruises. Mingyu, fueled by the idea of being your little fuck toy, couldn't contain the rush of sensations overwhelming his mind. 

The rhythm of your hips took on a frantic, fast pace, causing Mingyu to question whether his legs could even leave the couch. The intensity of the experience pushed him to the brink, as his cries grew louder, bordering on uncontrollable, he begged you to slow down, fearing he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. "Shit b-babe slow down!" His plea held a desperate undertone, a warning of what was to come if the pace continued.

In response, you choked him gently with one hand, a firm yet commanding gesture. "Be quiet," you whispered, a note of authority in your tone. The threat of a noise complaint lingered in the air. 

The sensation of your hand wrapped around Mingyu's throat, barely cutting off his air, made him gasp for breath. The delicate balance between pleasure and restriction sent waves of a delicious intensity through him. As you rolled your eyes, feeling your orgasm approaching, the grip on him tightened, and he arched his back, attempting to hold onto his own release.

The climax approached with an overwhelming force as your pussy crushed Mingyu's cock, inducing spasms of pleasure that rippled through his body. Your moans intertwined with the thick tears rolling down your cheeks, a culmination of the release from the tension that had built up throughout the night. The intensity hit like a tidal wave, leaving you feeling momentarily unstable.

Sensing your need for support, Mingyu struggled in pleasure to get up. He reached out to you, holding you close as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, crying out his name.

"Yeah, baby, I know it feels too good, right? I got you," Mingyu murmured, his words a reassuring melody in the aftermath of the intense orgasm. 

Driven by a lingering desire that had occupied your mind since the beginning of the night, – suck Mingyu's cock until you're unconscious – you decided to act on your newfound craving. Eagerly, you untangled yourself from Mingyu's embrace, his stability still offering support as you made your way towards your intended destination.

Your eagerness didn't leave room for hesitation. With a toss of your hair to the side, you seized the opportunity, pushing Mingyu's cock deep into your throat. The sudden, intense action caught him off guard, and his mouth opened wide in surprise, not expecting the eager and daring move you had just made.

The room was filled with a mix of sounds—the wet, rhythmic movements, his gasps of pleasure, and the unspoken understanding that the night had taken yet another unexpected turn. 

A prolonged "Fuuuuck" escaped from Mingyu's lips as you continued to bob your head incessantly, the wet, rhythmic sounds of your slurping echoing through the room. The intensity of your actions caused his cheeks to flush, and the pleasure you were delivering was almost overwhelming. Mingyu, lost in the sensations you were creating, felt himself melting into the couch, completely absorbed in the pleasure of the moment. 

Mingyu's tip pushed against the back of your throat, your lips grazing his pelvis. He held onto the material of the couch, feeling the tension radiate through his entire body. The moment climaxed with the forceful release of his cum, the spurts going down your throat.

"Oh my god Y/N!" As you continued to suck, Mingyu's body flinched in the aftermath of his release. His voice, now thin and breathless, pleaded with you to stop.

"Please, stop," he managed to utter, the intensity of the sensations still coursing through him.

You allowed Mingyu's soft cock to fall gently onto his stomach with a faint pop of your lips. Surveying his body, now laid defeated on the couch, you asked, "You okay?"

He nodded, his hands finally releasing their tight grip on the couch fabric. "Yeah," he affirmed, his breaths still slightly uneven.

Mingyu, his voice tinted with a mix of surprise and realization, whimpered, "You were horny as fuck, weren't you?"

A smile played on your lips as you replied, "Sorry if it was too much."

Exhausted, Mingyu closed his eyes and confessed, grinning "I loved it."

Mingyu, with a tired but content sigh, raised his arm, reaching out to pull you into a comfortable embrace. You settled against his chest, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. The living room was scattered with discarded clothes, a testament to the intensity of the night that had unfolded.

As sleep began to claim both of you, Mingyu's rhythmic breathing served as a calming lullaby. His fingers gently traced patterns through your hair as you drifted into a peaceful slumber on his chest. 

The morning light filtering through the curtains woke you from your slumber, accompanied by the gentle sensation of Mingyu's fingers tracing patterns on your back. As you lifted your head and rubbed your eyes, you realized you probably didn't look your best. Thankful that Mingyu had seen you wake up before, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking a moment's refuge.

With a husky voice, Mingyu spoke up, breaking the quiet morning atmosphere. "I'm definitely buying another bottle of that liquor for us," he declared, the memory of the eventful night prompting a teasing smile.

The shared sentiment about the unforgettable night echoed in his words, encapsulating the adventurous journey you and Mingyu had embarked on. The unspoken understanding and the newfound closeness between you two lingered in the air, marking the beginning of a bond that had evolved beyond the boundaries of mere friendship.

[finelinefae]

match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them

word count: 10.2k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n

this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here

. . .

“Again,” 

Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court. 

She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,” 

She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve. 

“Again,”

Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already. 

“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously. 

She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”

“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.” 

“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts. 

“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil. 

This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay. 

However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one. 

She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.

Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.

“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate. 

Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time. 

Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench. 

He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.

Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"

By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.

“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight. 

“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.

“We are training properly,” He argued. 

“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”

“And?” 

“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?” 

“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.” 

Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”

She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.” 

Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.

As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own. 

She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face. 

“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”

He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained. 

“You made this for me?” She frowned.

“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles. 

Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays. 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman. 

“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury. 

“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual. 

“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park. 

She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply. 

. . . 

After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed. 

Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam. 

Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years. 

Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on. 

She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie. 

She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment. 

The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it. 

She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song. 

‘Nothing to be justified yet

She the first I'm running with

She the one that get my collar

She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’

. . . 

The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her. 

“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.

Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”

“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”

Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?” 

Y/N frowned, “What?”

“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained. 

“Oh I don’t know about that-”

“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.

“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied. 

“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.

“You asked him before me?” 

“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”

“Why didn’t he ask me?” 

Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?” 

Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too. 

“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”

Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.

. . . 

It was raining outside. 

Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour. 

“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,” 

“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”

“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”

Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort. 

“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously. 

She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?” 

He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”

“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck. 

“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.” 

“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it. 

“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked. 

“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained. 

“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.

“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied. 

“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her. 

Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them. 

As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.” 

Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,” 

Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”

Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”

Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”

“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.

“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.

“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words. 

Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”

Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it. 

“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked. 

Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"

Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?” 

Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."

"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.

Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?” 

“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting. 

“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged. 

“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.  

“I study,” Y/N stated. 

“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life. 

“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”

Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.

"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.

“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled. 

As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently. 

“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”

Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”

Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently. 

He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”

Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park. 

Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked. 

“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief. 

“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat. 

“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”

“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”

She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”

“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,” 

“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted. 

Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on. 

“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.

“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.

“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”

“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot. 

“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”

Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward. 

“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”

This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,” 

Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”

“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears. 

“Atta girl,” He beamed.

Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive. 

“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed. 

Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car. 

“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her. 

“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved. 

“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played. 

Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”

Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face. 

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”

He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him. 

“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun. 

“Okay,” Y/N nodded. 

He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.

“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile. 

“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning. 

“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”

Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.” 

The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”

“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.

Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained. 

Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”

“And you can do the same,” She says. 

Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.” 

She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,” 

“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”

“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same. 

“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits. 

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.

“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.” 

Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.” 

Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before. 

She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her. 

. . .

Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.

“Again,” Harry drawled.

Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.

“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.

Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything. 

“I just need to win,” She mumbled.

“Get up,” Harry ordered. 

Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.

“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her. 

He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.

Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm. 

“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”

Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.” 

The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.

Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted. 

“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”

“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”

“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.

“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.

“Come to my place,” He offers.

“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down. 

“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”

She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.

Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment. 

Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax. 

The day after,  they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.

Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.

The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot. 

“For now,” He says. 

Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.

“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor. 

She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.

Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.” 

“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.” 

Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.” 

“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.” 

Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?” 

Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”

Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question. 

“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”

“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge. 

Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.

“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?” 

“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.

Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.” 

"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.

Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."

Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.

"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.

"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.

"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.

Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."

Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.

Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."

As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”

Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.

Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"

Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.

"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.

"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.

But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife. 

"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."

Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."

"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."

"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.

As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.

"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.

The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.

"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.” 

“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. 

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.

Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much. 

“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke. 

“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.” 

“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him. 

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.” 

Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”

Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”

His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them. 

She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him. 

. . . 

It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn. 

He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher. 

On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker. 

Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone. 

“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it. 

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.

“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”

Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”

“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”

He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks. 

Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking. 

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder. 

She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to. 

“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention. 

Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire. 

“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her. 

“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder. 

Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.

When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.

When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.

“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat. 

But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.

“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own. 

Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said. 

Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot. 

Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him. 

They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.

The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.

As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.

Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.

But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.

"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.

“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.

He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?

He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling. 

He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.

The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck. 

After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would. 

Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood. 

If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis. 

He was in trouble.

. . .

People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood. 

“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”

“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win. 

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her. 

That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.

Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to. 

Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator. 

Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.

“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her. 

“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him. 

“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”

“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before. 

Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”

Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”

Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.

Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county. 

Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[murdrdocs]

been having a niche thought of marrying patrick sort of for the benefits and access that comes with it.

no one knows if you and patrick married for the right reasons. there were suspicions at the engagement party, jokes made by the people who knew you best. "i never thought these two would settle down, much less with each other". laughter followed, but everyone knew there was truth in the statement. why in the hell would you decide to marry patrick zweig?

love, is what you tell everyone. according to both of you, you're soulmates. and yeah, in most regards both are true. you and patrick share a love for each other. but that love is shared with others, too. you know each other better than most. but there are two others who know you both just as well. sitting at the end of the table during the engagement party. sitting just close enough to you and patrick during the wedding reception.

the donaldsons are maybe the real reason why you and patrick married. it started as a joke, really. a deluded, elaborate bit created by a drunk art (finally allowed to indulge now that he's retired) and a barely-tipsy patrick (put on a strict regimen by his new coach).

"if you two married, no one would suspect anything between us," was art's reasoning. it barely made sense to you at the time, but not much could make sense when you were struggling to stay awake, being lulled to sleep by the rumble of patrick's chest beside your ear where you lay, and the sweet waft of tashi's perfume carrying in the evening wind.

"think about it," art had continued. "people won't be suspicious over two married couples being close friends. they already probably think i'm cheating with," art slurred your name and you distantly acknowledged how nice the sound was like that. it reminded you of when he was fucked out and he called for you. "and they think tashi's cheating with you, patrick. but if you two were married..."

and art didn't have to say much else. because on a fresh mind the next morning, standing in art and tashi's kitchen, wearing patrick's shirt and waiting for freshly cooked eggs while looking at the sunspots covering art's back and shoulders, you began to understand the logic in art's argument.

married couples were friends. close friends. spend the night at the others house and hosts birthday parties for each other type of friends.

maybe that's why after that day, you and patrick started seeing just each other more. maybe that's why the two of you started dating. maybe that's why patrick took you to a nice place, had art help him set everything up, and popped the question with a ring that tashi assured him you would like. maybe it's why you went through with the wedding, why you bought a house together, why you became mrs. zweig in every sense of the title.

and truthfully, it's a nice life.

it's nice seeing patrick walk downstairs shirtless, his body on display for you to ogle. it's always been like that between you two, yes, but something's different. he has hickies on his shoulders, two from art and then one from you right beside it. there's scratches on his back from you and tashi. he's always wearing his wedding band, and the gold glints nicely against his tan skin. sometimes, you pull the ring up his lithe finger and admire the way he has a tan line now. a permanent reminder of you, even if your presence in a shared space is the same.

he looks cleaner, too, from work of you and tashi. his body a healthy mix between lean and toned. his skin glowing from the inside out. his beard shaped up nicely, a light brown that works well with the burnt orange sprinkle in his eyes. curly hair kept short, more and more greys growing day by day.

it's nice sitting in tashi and art's backyard on patio furniture the four of you had a say in, sharing drinks and old anecdotes before you all went upstairs to entangle your bodies upon the king-sized bed.

even without the legalities, you and patrick would've remained intertwined in tashi and art's lives. but it feels right like this. it feels more secure. like you're committed to each other in the same ways that you're both committed to the dolandsons.

plus, patrick seems to be more bearable as a husband than he was as a friend (the term used loosely of course).

[ryozakidesu]

After You - N.JM

1/4 diary of the heartbreakers

summary: ➸ ♡ Na Jaemin had it easy. Loved by everybody, the man of everyone's dream. He's a perfect mix of a charmer and a player. Girls begged to be his, and he loved every part of it. Life used to be so fucking perfect for him. Then comes you. You're like an old book, ink fading, cover tearing, but he swears you're worth the read. Before you, life was easy. After you? He wasn't so sure.

"Break my heart, and you'll only find yourself inside."

GENRE: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mature themes

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Mental Illness, Drugs/Alcohol usage, Addiction, toxic!reader, fuckboy!Jaemin (but still a sweetheart)

WC: 19k (I got carried away, lol)

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

Enjoy reading! -ryo

//////////////////////

"Look who finally decides to show up," Jeno welcomed Jaemin with open arms, Haechan and Renjun following in pursuit.

"Come on, I just saw you guys about a week ago. Don't be dramatic." Jaemin loosened his tie, sat at the vacant seat beside Renjun.

"No Yeri today?" Haechan smirked, obviously mocking Jaemin.

"She has plans with her friends," Jaemin wants to shift the topic quickly, not wanting to be the center of attention for so long.

"Are you sure its not because she hates us?" Renjun looked at Jaemin with his brow raised.

"She hates everyone." Jaemin grabbed the flute glass in front of him as he saw the waiter come by with champagne.

"No offense, Jaemin, but I hate that her too." Haechan, eating the garlic bread. Jaemin rolled his eyes.

"Makes two of us." Jeno chimed in, drinking his champagne aswell. Jaemin didn't say anything, waiting for Renjun's addition to his girlfriend's hate train.

"All of us hate her, actually. Sorry man but your girl is literally the reincarnation of the devil." Renjun.

"You guys done? I know she isn't the best but she's still my girlfriend?" Jaemin, like the other times his friends tell him how horrible his girlfriend is, try to defend her even tho he knows that they're partly right.

"Yeah, we know. One of the mysteries even Sherlock Holmes can't fucking solve." Haechan chuckled. Jaemin let out a sigh and drank the champagne in one shot. He barely gets a break from Yeri, and when he does, his friends still mentions her name in every conversation they have.

"She disrespects everyone, literally went out with you just to show you off to her friends. I don't understand why you're still with her." Jeno rants, trying to make Jaemin understand. He doesn't mean to drag Yeri, but Jeno cannot understand how the likes of Jaemin, will go out with Yeri who treats him like shit.

"No shit, dude. Neither do I." Jaemin admitted, leaning back on his chair before dragging his hands through his hair.

"How about Karina? She's great, you went out with her a few times, right?" Haechan.

Jaemin, for the ninth time this night, rolled his eyes. "She moved to Paris."

"Joy? The girl you took to Haechan's birthday?" Renjun, pulling up a picture of Joy he searched on instagram, just to show to Jaemin.

"Engaged to Sungjae." Jeno answered that one, Sungjae being one of his acquiantances.

"Oh, I know this girl from Busan--"

"Can we not talk about my fucking love life?! Y'all are just stressing me out, God damn." Jaemin massaged his temples, just wanting a breather. Before he went here, he already had an argument with Yeri.

"Chill, man. Fine.. jeez. Just wanted you to know your options." Haechan looks away and shrugged his shoulders. To be fair, his intent was truly innocent. They just wanted their friend to live a happy life.

As per Jaemin's wish, they moved on and changed the topic to something else. After a few drinks, Jaemin started to let loose.

He wondered about a lot of things. One of which is on how he ended up here. Stuck in a relationship he doesn't really want anymore. Seeing his friends and how happy they are really hits something inside Jaemin. When will he find that? Will he even find that?

Just like the other nights Jaemin drinks himself to slumber, a few glasses in and he starts to think of something so dangerous yet so good. Something forbidden, something he would probably regret. He thinks of you.

Jaemin's greatest what if. You were like a fever dream, a memory he would cherish forever. No one can compare to the beauty hold. You were Jaemin's drug, so captivating, yet so vicious.

He wondered where you are. Are you doing fine? Are you happy?

Sometimes Jaemin hopes you still think of him. That his relevance in your life, although it was short, still lingers in your mind once in a while.

And the memories you and him had, even though it was temporary, Jaemin wishes it was enough for him to believe that you'll meet again.

Jaemin met a lot of pretty girls. All of them, actually. Yeri, despite her frowned upon attitude, was actually beautiful. That's what drove Jaemin to ask her out in the first place. He just wasn't aware of the other things that comes with it. No one can deny the beauty that Yeri holds, and even tho it contrasts his friends opinions, they know that Yeri is still one of the prettiest girl Jaemin had.

But was she the most gorgeous? No. Because there was you. They all fall behind, after you.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

The first time he saw you was at the school's cafeteria. You're an art student which he could clearly tell from the messy pencil on your bun as you ate with a friend at the back of the canteen. He knew that friend, Jeonghan, because.. he might've slept with his sister. He still couldn't remember tho, he was stupidly drunk that time.

"Who's that with Jeonghan?" Jaemin asked, still his eyes not leaving your face. As corny as it sounds, everyone's faces blurred out when he saw you.

"That's Jiho's bestfriend? I think? Wait, isn't Jiho that one chick you banged last week?" Haechan, the resident insider was the one to answer. Jaemin mentally cursed himself. You're Jiho's bestfriend. Usually that doesn't matter to Jaemin but somehow he felt some sort of guilt into taking an interest with you. Inevitably, you'll know what happened with Jiho and Jaemin, and you'll definitely see Jaemin as this asshole who slept with your bestfriend.

"Everybody knows that he slept with her, dude." Jeno chimed in, smirking.

"More like, everybody heard." Renjun followed, which earned a hefty laugh from his group of friends. Usually, Jaemin would respond with a strong punch in the arm but he was still in a dilemma on how he should approach you without giving off an asshole vibe in him.

Jaemin came up with a plan. Not a good one, but still, a plan. He would casually pass the Arts building, specifically where you usually hang out which was at the Art studio at the top floor, (don't ask him how he found out-- he has his ways) and just ask you where the exit to the building is since he never really got around this part of the university.

His plan sounded good, and just to be assured, he asked Haechan. Which wasn't a very good choice but the way Haechan got around the girls in the university, he deserved some credit. In typical Lee Haechan way he responded, "That'd totally work, dude. I don't know how that would go wrong."

Well, Jaemin now know how it would go fucking wrong.

As the plan goes, he reaches the top floor of the building and walked towards the Art studio at 5pm, because according to his sources, you like to stay after class to do your project on the Art studio. Again, don't ask Jaemin how he got those information. Which is proven to be credible, because he did find you sketching on a canvas by yourself. He could hear a faint music playing on the studio as you sketch, which Jaemin could tell was a portrait of a lady.

He cleared his throat, as he opened the door. Just like in his script, he spoke,

"Hey, uh, excuse me? I've been finding the exit from this building and uhm, I just can't. Can you-- uhm," Okay, fine, Jaemin did fuck that one up. But how can he not, when you turned around so majestically with the golden sunray perfetcly hitting your face which gave Jaemin a full view of your beauty?

"Na Jaemin? What the hell are you doing here?" You stood up, walking towards the speaker and turned it off.

"You know me?" Jaemin asked a dumb question. Everybody knows who he is. He's a fucking famous-- wait, no, he's just famous for fucking. That's it.

"Jiho and all the other girls around this place can't stop talking about how big your dick is, so I'd like to think I'm familiar with you, yes." Sarcasm fit perfectly with you, Jaemin thought. Although, he did not expect you to be this harsh given your soft exterior, nonetheless, he still found you pretty.

"Uh, that's uhm-- not the point, I need to find the exit." Stick to the plan, stupid. Jaemin had thought.

What surprises him even more was your sudden burst of laughter. What's so funny? Embarassment started to fill Jaemin, finding the whole situation dumb and stupid. Why are you laughing at him? This is the first time Jaemin felt this. Usually, girls are all over him, why are you laughing at him like he's some stupid idiot?

"Do you realize that if you're trying to find the exit, you go down the building, not the top floor?" At that exact moment, Jaemin wanted to bury himself alive.

--

"Dude, I didn't think you would fumble this bad." Jeno couldn't hold his laughter after Jaemin told him what had occured in the Art studio. There was only Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin in the dorm today, Haechan was steering out of Jaemin's view eversince he received a threat from his friend, quote, 'I'm gonna burn your hair off your scalp, Lee Haechan'

"You just turned around and left? Are you serious?" Renjun was more like dumbfounded. He expected more from Jaemin, being infamous in their little friendgroup for being a lowkey manwhore. He could not believe Jaemin could act so-- foolish?

"I didn't know what to say or do, bro. This is Haechan's fault, fuck!" Jaemin looked like a prepubescent teen screaming into his pillow. A couple leg-flailing and he'd successfully portray a thirteen yearold boy.

"This one's on you. You know damn well Haechan could pull that shit off with his over confident ass. Whats with this girl anyways?" Jeno asked, with little to no care about whatever Jaemin answered. He already knew you were Jaemin's type.

"You know Jaemin and his thing for innocent girls, Jeno. Are you not with him for the last seven years?" Renjun stated, which Jeno just nodded and shrugged.

"But the way she shut you down, I wouldn't say she's too innocent." Jeno had the other two thinking. Yes, with your soft brown hair and cute features, especially your love for art, you look like the stereotypical good girl that captured Jaemin's eyes. But your encounter says otherwise. No good girl can resist Na Jaemin. Everybody knows that.

Na Jaemin, contrary to his friend's beliefs, is the recent most popular man in his school. All of them were, but every student that knows him, (which is everyone) Na Jaemin is number one in his little friendgroup. He's the perfect balance between a player and a charmer.

Nobody hated the guy, they all liked him. Had the title of Prom King for four consecutive years, and has a squeaky clean reputation. Oh, don't get him wrong tho, he's a manwhore, still. Its just that every girl he has been with doesn't have any bad thing to say about the guy. He's got a great dick and even better personality. Word got around that even guys wouldn't mind if he slept with their girlfriends. That's how loved Jaemin is around the campus. He has a way with words, that once Jaemin calls quits on a girl, that girl would even say "Thank you."

Jaemin likes to think he's just being nice, but Haechan calls him a professional manipulator and gaslighter. Which if you do see it in a technical way, Jaemin's sweet words does affect the way girls interpret his intentions. Because in all honesty, he's just fucking and ghosting. But with a couple of I'm sorry's or Sweetheart's or maybe even a little bit of 'You don't deserve a man like me,' Jaemin easily could bounce out everytime.

"Also, why have we not heard about her? I mean, a face like that? Its impossible that she hadn't shown Haechan's radar." Renjun stated. Its true, it does feel weird that none of them knew who you were, specially Haechan. He's quite literally the hot girl radar and you definitely qualified as one. Its rate that Haechan never made a move on you, or even talked to you.

"Maybe she's really weird or has like a third nipple." Jeno sounds genuine, which was even worse. Jaemin couldn't help but question how is this man his best friend.

"Can you not be a twelve year-old?" Jaemin, as he threw a cushion over Jeno's side.

"Anyways, let's go back to Jaemin being a stupid idiot,"

--

["You got it?"] Renjun's voice was heard through the phone.

"Yes, you bitch. Now once I get home, I expect my beer and chicken laid in my table perfectly, or I'm burning your book." Its almost 7pm and almost everyone had already left the campus but Jaemin. Renjun had asked him to fetch his book from a friend, because Jaemin is the only one staying in the campus this late. For the reason being, well, he had a little make out sesh after his last class with Jiho.

Jaemin wasn't intentionally doing it just to spite you, its just Jiho was a great kisser. And maybe to get information about you, just a little. But that did not happen because he did not have the chance to actually talk to her about you as his mouth was a little preoccupied.

As he walked through the hallway, a door suddenly opened, which revealed you, hair dishevelled and your shirt was wrinkled. He knew that posture too well, out of all people, he's the one most familiar of it. You just did the nasty with someone.

In the school grounds? Jaemin scoffs. He was about to approach you when another body also came out of the room.

No way. No fucking way! Jaemin's eyes went wild, his jaw slowly parts as he saw who it was. He quickly hides behind one of the lockers to avoid you seeing him, only peeking his head a bit to confirm what he just saw.

Nurse Suh. You're sleeping with the school nurse. Jaemin was utterly shocked, as he contemplated on what he should do next. You're definitely not the innocent and soft girl he thought you would be, you're so far from it. And as far as he knows, Nurse Suh has a girlfriend! And not to mention, it's illegal!

"Nurse Suh?!" The three of his friends couldn't believe it either. Jaemin just could not keep the information to himself. He knew he could trust his friends.

"I mean, yes he's hot but isn't he like 34?" Jeno questioned.

"Dumbass, he's only 27. Him and my older brother are friends." Haechan said, then quickly looking back at Jaemin.

"And she's what, 22? I don't see anything wrong here." Haechan shrugged. Of course, out of all of them, Haechan would find this situation fine. He had slept with a teacher before, and called it his 'great awakening'.

"He has a girlfriend, you fucking idiot." Renjun said, hitting Haechan in the back of the head.

"So? You gotta do what you gotta do, man. Honestly, if I was Nurse Suh, I would tap it too." Followed by a playful chuckle, Haechan got another slap in the back of the head, this time, from Jeno.

"Stop hitting me! I need to protect my braincells, I need to pass the test tomorrow, you assholes." Haechan whined, massaging his head.

"Wait, Haechan, did you not know her before?" It was Jaemin's turn to ask, genuinely curious on why Haechan never made a move on you.

Haechan is basically like Jaemin, but even more evil. Sure, they're both manwhores but Jaemin leaves nicely. As to Haechan, he would leave without saying a word and pretend to not know you the next day. While Jaemin would receive love letters, Haechan receives death threats and some hex put on him. Its not like he's bad in bed, because if he is, he wouldn't be able to get his dick wet as frequent as he is now. It's because Haechan does not care for people's feelings.

"I did, I know who she was." Haechan shrugged. All three of them looked at him.

"Why didn't you.. like... tell me about that?" Jaemin's voice was small, a bit shy with what he just said.

"Because It's kinda funny when you get turned down." Haechan had a smile on his face whilst he said it. Jeno shook his head and Renjun just scoffed.

"Please tell me you're joking." Renjun. The boy laughed even more louder while shaking his head and before he knows, a flying cushion came straight to his face. But it didn't stop Haechan from smiling like an idiot.

"You know what's ridiculous, Haechan? That fucking faded out starwars shirt, because I'm gonna make you eat it you fucker!--" Jaemin fought back, reaching out for his friend but Haechan quickly moved away from him

"I'm sorry, Jaeminnie-- but I did try to flirt with her but she's cold as ice, man. And you all know how persistent I am so when me, Lee Haechan, gave up on a girl, you know that girl's impossible. And I heard that she never dates, well, I guess now I know why." Haechan explained himself but Jaemin is still annoyed and pissed.

"So you just let your friend get his ass handed to him? You should've told Jaem, man." Jeno.

"Admit it, It's kinda funny when Jaemin gets rejected. I mean, it almost never happens. And the one time it did, we're not even there to witness it." Haechan keeps smiling, pissing off Jaemin more, but his mind is else where.

---

"I had to say, I'm surprised you called me twice this week. Am I finally cracking your fuckboy code, Na Jaemin?" Jiho had a smirk on her face when he approached Jaemin at the closed off audiotorium in the science building.

"Can you sit down first?" Jaemin scooted a bit and gave space for Jiho to sit down. He has a whole different plan today, and although inviting the girl in his usual makeout spot almost always leads up to them hooking up, this time Jaemin is persistent on asking Jiho about you.

"This is weird. Aren't you taking my skirt off?" Jiho hesitantly sat beside the boy, expecting a kiss but instead, Jaemin has his brows furrowed and seemed bothered

"What? No. Not now. I just want to ask you something." Jaemin turned his body facing Jiho.

"You're being weird." Jiho leaned away a bit, still confused about the whole situation.

"You know y/n?" Jaemin goes straight to the point. Jiho had a visible shock in her face. She never expected your name to pop out from anyone's mouth, and especially not Jaemin's.

"Yes? Why?" Slowing her words, she inspected Jaemin's features.

"Nothing. Why haven't I seen her before?" The question Jaemin is most interested about.

"She's never gonna be interested with you, or anyone. Leave her alone." Jiho suddenly stood up, turned around and walked away as fast as she can, but not as fast as Jaemin.

Before she could even leave the auditorium, Jaemin got a hold of her wrist. "Why are you this weird about her?"

"I know you think you can woo her because you're Na Jaemin and you're a fucking playboy or some shit, but I'm telling you, not even as your hook up buddy, she's worse than you. So I suggest, as your friend, stay. away. from y/n."

---

"This is totally not weird. Yeah sure, I mean, we're just following a random girl walking down the street. Totally not weird." Renjun for one was scammed into doing this. Jaemin asked him to go with him and go buy some pants in the mall for a promise for Haidilao afterwards. Ofcourse Renjun is gonna agree, because he would never pass a free hotpot.

What Jaemin failed to say is that he has a little side quest on his itenirary for today. For someone who's unbothered most of the time, Jaemin is going insane thinking about the mystery that is you. And Jiho's outburst absolutely did not help at all.

"We're not following her. We're just y'know... happens to be in the same way as her." Jaemin knew what he was saying was bullshit, and that Renjun would never believe a word he says. But he would never admit that he's letting someone go and do cartwheel on his mind for almost two weeks now.

"Except we can't walk more than ten feet closer and we've been turning in the same corners as her for about thirty minutes." Sarcasm did not need to be noted.

Jaemin didn't listen and continued walking the same direction as you. This is definitely out of his character, but he has to know you. He's been intrigued enough to actually make an effort to atleast know who you were.

Suddenly, you turned left, into a busy cafe. "You promised me Haidilao, Na Jaemin. Not coffee!" Renjun started being a little irritated. He's hungry, exhausted and disappointed from Jaemin's fake promises. He doesn't need coffee right now, and hell, he's not gonna sit inside a cafe when he could have hotpot right now!

"Jesus, shut the fuck up!" Jaemin dug into his pocket and reached for his phone, typing for a minute and Renjun felt his own phone vibrated.

"Nice. I'll see you later, Sherlock Holmes." Jaemin sent Renjun money for hotpot, which quickly shifted the boy's mood.

"You're useless!" Jaemin yelled as Renjun walked away. "You love me!" Renjun replied with a smile as he skips away.

Jaemin hesitated a bit if he should enter the cafe. Is it too much just to suddenly show up where you are? No. This is the townsquare, students from his and your school are frequents here. It's not gonna be weird. Right, definitely.

The cafe is full packed, quite a line forming. There seems ro be no tables available, but Jaemin still decides to go inside. But as soon as he steps inside the cafe, his feet turned ice cold.

"Alright! I know, I'm sorry!" He sees you hurriedly putting on your apron, as another man seemingly upset with you. He quickly steps into the line of customers, and he just hopes that once he's on the counter, you would be the one serving him.

Jaemin thought he had time to calculate how he's gonna approach you, but the line was quickly moving, and he swear, he's fucking nervous. What if you didn't remember him? Or find him weird for being here?

As the last one in front of him turned to leave, he's finally infront of you. Unfortunately, you weren't looking and focused on the monitor in front of you.

"Uhm," he cleared his throat, trying to get your attention.

"What can I get you, sir?" Your customer service voice was obvious, and quite frankly, annoying. You smiled brightly at him, which he deemed so fake.

"Iced Americano, small." Jaemin's voice was deeper than usual, partly because he's nervous, and maybe because he wanted a cool guy impression.

"You literally followed me here just to get a small americano?" The humour in your voice makes Jaemin embarassed. Wide eyed, Jaemin feigned confusion, not wanting to be caught in 4k.

"I wasn't following y-you?" One thing Jaemin was bad at, was definitely lying. The way he stuttered at his last word says so.

You fought a smirk, again, leaving poor Jaemin feeling so little. "Sure, and the gravity isn't real."

"I swear, I'm not--"

"I'm on a break by 6:30. One small americano, right, sir?" You smiled at him, and Jaemin can fucking feel it. His heart skipping a beat.

"Make that large."

----

His drink already warm, ice all melted into one bland coffee, Jaemin started to feel pathetic. He's been sitting here, on the side of the cafe for almost three hours. He's realizing how stupid he is for doing all of this for someone who's not even that... special. He doesn't know you. You're pretty, yes, but there's always gonna be another girl who's prettier. Maybe its his dick thinking and doing the decisions earlier, but Jaemin saw his entire reputation go so far down if anybody knew he waited for you for three fucking hours. He never knew he could do all of this for a pussy he can easily get with other girls who would even beg for him.

Simmering in his own thoughts, Jaemin huffs and almost stood up to leave, Until he saw his phone, 6:29.

Shit, only one more minute wouldn't hurt anybody? No. Fuck her for playing hard to get. I'm Na fucking Jaemin! Who does she think she is?!

Just as Jaemin actually stood up, he saw you walking slowly towards him while undoing your apron, smile on your face making his knees literally weak that he had to sit down again.

"Leaving already?" You asked, sitting in front of him.

"I-I was just... stretching my legs." If his friends are here to hear the words he just said, he might just jump off a cliff.

"Sure. Now, tell me, Na Jaemin-ssi. What the fuck do you want from me?" Okay, now this, Jaemin did not expect this. Your words sounded harsh but your soft voice says otherwise. Being passive aggresive just makes Jaemin confused all over again.

But fuck it, you wanna play hard? Jaemin can do that. His patience wearing thin, he leaned back on the chair and smirked, almost like flipping on a switch in his aura.

"I want to fuck you." Jaemin didn't whisper, or even lower his voice. He said it so casually, and he noticed your confident stare flinch for a bit.

"I would, but I'm afraid you're not my type." Its like you two were having an asshole-off and seeing who's more cockier than the other. Jaemin isn't competitive, but he's not gonna lose this one.

"Don't be silly. I'm everybody's type." Jaemin definitely won by that line. Or so he thoughts.

"Judging from words on the streets, You're a walking STD. I think I'm gonna pass." This time, Jaemin's sure that you're just pissing him off. Maybe this is your way of playing hard to get, but Jaemin likes to play dirty.

"I fuck a lot but I'm clean, and even if that happens, I'm sure your little school nurse friend can help you." Visible shock in your face, its clear that Jaemin pushed your buttons. Your confident facade slowly shaking, as you gulped and blink trying to process what he just said.

But that didn't last long, only seconds after, you pulled back your smirk. "Oh, you've done some research, I see."

"Now come on, pretty girl. What do you say?" He started to feel it. He's cracking your hard shell.

"Are you really good in bed as they say you were?"

"Go on and ask your friend."

---

"Holy f-fuck, J-jaemin.. shit.. slowdown!" Your table aggressively banging as you bent over it, Jaemin mercilessly pistoning you from behind. His pants not even half way down his thighs, the lower hem of his shirt in between his teeth, showing his glistening abs flexing as he thrusts.

His left hand locking both yours behind your back, and his right hand keeping your head on the table, facing your side. Your mesh tights has been ripped, your skirt all the way up your stomach. One by one, your things that was left on the table started to fall on the ground, as Jaemin's aggressive thrusts forcefully moves the table on a rocking motion.

"Shi.. fuck, I'm coming.." Your hoarse voice was prominent, only motivates Jaemin to hit even harder. Only grunts and growls was heard from the boy, his moans blocked by his shirt between his teeth. Jaemin wasn't only fucking you, he's proving a point aswell. To you, and to himself.

He removes his hands from your head, allowing you to look at him from behind. His free hand brushed his hair backwards, still keeping his tempo. Sweat dripping, his thrusts started to stutter. He then grabbed your face, and pulled you to his chest. Letting go of the shirt in his lips, he whispered, "Come with me, sweetheart."

His hands finding your waist as he felt your walls tighten, an intense whine leaving your mouth as your leg shakes quietly. That triggered his own release, murmuring a few curse words as all his movements halts. Only heavy breathing was heard, everything else dead silent. He slowly pulls out, earning a moan from the both of you.

"That was.." You couldn't even finish, fixing your clothes, quickly sitting at one of your chairs on the table, afraid your knees might give out.

"Intense." Jaemin tucked himself on his pants as he sat down in front of you.

"Not bad," You smirked at him, trying to keep your composure. Jaemin smirked back, proud of himself.

"I thought I wasn't your type?"

"Gotta know what's all the fuss is about. I guess the cat died and curiousity wins." Out of breath, you suddenly picked something on the floor, and Jaemin notices that its a marker that had fell from the table.

"If you wanna do this again," you stared grabbing Jaemin's arms and writing your number on it. "...give me a call, yeah?"

"How about Nurse Suh?" Jaemin didn't wanna sound like a little whiny boy but he had to ask. Is she still going to continue seeing him?

"What about him?" You raised your brows at him.

"Won't he be mad?" Jaemin can see the laugh you held in, before shaking your head.

"We're not in a relationship, and will never be. Same goes to you. We just fuck and go. I'm clean, I hope you are too, and we're not passing the line of being each other's fuck buddy. None of that corny shit, or you're out. I hope you understand, Jaeminnie, you're just a good dick with a pretty face." Your soft face does not match the words you just spilled out. And Jaemin thinks he's hit the jackpot.

No commitments? Just good sex? With you? He thinks he's in heaven. He can't wait to tell the boys about this.

If Jaemin was in the movies, he would've fisted the air and smiled like an idiot.

"Here's to good sex?" Jaemin offers his hand, which you gladly accepted. "Good sex indeed."

---

Jaemin never minded what day it is. Just as long as he did what he needs to do today, he's fine. Tomorrow will have to wait. But eversince you, suddenly he felt impatient and counted the days until he saw you again.

After a few weeks, Jaemin and you saw each other twice a week, mostly Thursdays and Sundays, the days where your schedules matched. Jaemin never knew he would be stuck with one girl for this long, but damn. You're too good. You keep Jaemin on his toes every time he sees you. You were like a gift, waiting to be opened everytime. The excitement and the thrill always feels brand new. And Jaemin would never admit it, but every week, he'd hope the other days go by quickly and wishes it was Thursday again.

"He's smiling like a creep again, Jeno! What the fuck is up with your bestfriend?!" Haechan dramatically hid behind Jeno as Jaemin walked inside their little hang out spot, the old elementay library that became abandoned throughout the renovations.

"He's apparently getting the best pussy in the campus." Jeno shrugged and pushed Haechan away before he plopped himself down the couch.

"You're banging Im Hayeon?" Haechan widen his eyes as he strides towards Jaemin.

"No, dimwit. He's fucking y/n." Renjun, unbothered as usual as he continued drawing in his iPad.

"No way-- no fucking way!" Haechan gasps, grabbing Jaemin's shoulder as he shook it. Jaemin slaps away Haechan's hands and pushed him aside to sit beside Jeno.

"Shut up, Haechan. You're being dramatic." Jaemin pulled out his phone, hoping he would see your name pop up. Surprisingly, nothing but social media notifications greeted him, message requests and follows from people he doesn't know. He checked what time it is, 2:45pm.

Okay. Its still early. She'll text later.

"In all seriousness, dude, do you guys talk? like aside from doing it-- I mean." Jeno's tone was unusual. It's like he's being careful about something, or he wants to say something.

"Yeah? The fuck? D'you think we just fuck and go? Of couse we talk. Why?" Jaemin noticed Jeno's way of talking, turning his whole body towards his bestfriend.

"She tell you something about her?" This time, Renjun and Haechan leaned in.

"Get to the point, man." Jaemin.

"Nah, cuz the girl I was with last night told me that she's really... uh, popular at her previous school." Jeno, knowing the whole context, winced at the word 'popular'.

"What do you mean?" Jaemin's smile when he came here was no longer visible, replacing it with a frown as his brows creased in nervousness.

"I don't know-- man, I think you just... ask her, y'know?" Jeno wasn't comfortable sharing the information he had, but he knew Jaemin needs to know. But he wasn't sure if he's in the place to tell it.

But Haechan did not give a fuck. He's intrigued, and before they knew it, he's deep inside his phone texting someone.

"What are you doing?" Renjun asked.

"Since Jeno is being a pussy and won't share, I'm finding it out." And a second before Haechan could even type another letter, Jeno grabbed his phone away.

"Don't! Don't fucking search it. We should respect her, man. She's still a girl and I heard it was taken down---"

Haechan gasped even louder, even breathing out an "oh my god", He didn't say it out loud but the four of them were thinking the same thing.

"Holy fuck, she has a sex tape?!" Haechan, ofcourse was the first one to break the silence.

And once again, you surprised Jaemin.

---

"I'm famished, god damn." You sat beside Jaemin on your old couch, digging a spoon on your bowl of cereal. Your top barely even buttoned, you started eating a spoonfull after another.

"Slow down, you'll--" before Jaemin even finishes, you caught something in your throat and coughed almost everything in your mouth.

"What did i tell you? Aish-" Jaemin quickly then grabbed the tissue beside the couch and started to wipe your face. He grabbed the bowl from you, putting it aside and wiping some of the milk that had spilled on you.

He then stood up and walked towards your kitchen, as if he owns the place. Next thing you know, he comes back with a glass of water in his hands.

"Thank you," you managed to blurt out in the middle of your coughing and drank the water.

"I thought you didn't have a gag reflex the way you sucked my dick earlier," Jaemin joked, earning a playful slap in his shoulder from you.

"Shut up, movies starting." Jaemin didn't give a single fuck about the movie playing on screen. Haechan's voice keeps ringing in his ear, and as much as he wanted to stay out of it and respect your privacy, something in him wants to know. Its like an itch wanting to be scratched.

"Tom Holland's like the perfect spiderm-- Jaemin?" The boy's trance was interrupted when you call his name. He didn't realize that he was staring off to nothing instead of watching the movie he picked.

"Yeah?" Jaemin blinked thrice before looking at you, your eyes peaked interest as you examined his face.

"You're out of it, what're you thinking?" You paused the movie, moving your body to fully face him.

Jaemin can't wait. He has to know. "Just curious, where did you say your last school is?" He hoped his question wasn't too obvious.

"I didn't say anything?" Okay, hold up. Plan backfired. Fuck!

"What? I-I swear you told me, like, last time? Sacre--"

"Sacred Heart. Yeah. And no, I didn't tell you about it." Like the many times, Jaemin was nervous. Again. You make him so.. unlike himself. What the fuck is it with you?

"Oh, wait, are you sure--"

"You heard about it, huh?" Jaemin couldn't tell if the smirk on your face was a good thing. He doesn't want to fuck this up, and he's starting to think he just did.

"I'm sorry, If you don't want to talk about it--"

"It's fine. It's not that bad. Hell, It could've earned so much if it was uploaded in a porn site, y'know? Stupid Mr. Nakamoto," You chuckled, nonchalantly turning your body towards the screen again, as if what you just said didn't just shocked Jaemin to the core.

The fact that you weren't bothered about it, and even sounded like you're bragging about it wasn't the main thing Jaemin was apalled by. "Mr. Nakamoto?"

You smiled, as if you were reminiscing, "He was my Biology teacher. Couldn't accept the fact that I'm leaving him so he went and blackmailed me with the video, but his phone got stolen and poof, it spread around like a wildfire. If you ask another person tho, they'd just say I spread it myself. You choose what you believe-- I don't really care." And you looked like it too. You did not care, because if you did, you wouldn't just tell all of this to Jaemin.

"Did anything happened to that assho-- Mr. Nakamoto?" Jaemin feels heated. He doesn't know why, but what he knows is he wants to suckerpunch whoever that Nakamoto is.

"Got his license removed, but you know what's even more fun?" You leaned onto him, your lips next to his ear and whispered, "His wife was so devastated her husband had to find someone younger to fuck, she filed for divorce the very next day."

And just like that, Jaemin was left speechless. Again.

---

"Jaem, someone's looking for you." Renjun tapped his friend's shoulder, pointing at the student standing on the door. Jaemin slowly opened his eyes, way too tired to even stand up, and looked who it was.

To his surprise, it was Yoon Jeonghan. He knew this would come sooner or later, since he had a.. thing with his sister for a while. But he never thought that Jeonghan cared, afterall, Jeonghan never talked to him about it.

But oh boy, was he wrong.

"Heard you're fooling around with y/n?" Jeonghan was serious. He wasn't looking at Jaemin, he's just staring ahead. His hands on his pocket, as Jaemin stood behind him, confused.

"Yeah? What about it?" He knew you and Jeonghan were friends, he often sees you with him. But why does this conversation feel more intense?

"And my sister already talked to you about it, right?" This time, Jeonghan looked at him.

"Yeah, she's being weird about it." Somehow, Jaemin wants this conversation to be about Jiho instead of you. He wishes Jeonghan was only after him because of his sister, because then, he knew what to do. But its you. Jaemin never know what to do with you.

"Because she's right. You should stay away from her, man. Just-- a friendly advice, alright?" Jaemin hated how Jeonghan sounded so sincere. What could be so awful about you that even this man, who he never even talked to, warned him about you?

"Dude, not to sound rude, but how the fuck does me fucking around with y/n, your business?" His voice slightly getting sharper, owing to the fact that he hated getting told what to do.

"You're a good man, Na. I'm sure there's more prettier-- even more fucking hotter girls than her. She's not..." Jeonghan paused, almost saying something he would regret, "... good for you. I've known her forever, and she's not the type to be with."

"I know you're older than me, and I mean this with utmost respect, you and your sister should mind your own business. I don't know what she did to you and Jiho, but she's fine. And we're not even together! We're just fooling around! Y'all are so dramatic." With that, Jaemin turned around and left Jeonghan. He sounded so unbothered by all of this, but in all honestly, he's starting to question if there's really a valid reason on why Jeonghan and Jiho was so sincere about you being apparently, a bad person.

The way you laugh at Jaemin, the way you smiled, you tell your stories, and everything Jaemin saw you do, you being a bad person doesn't make sense to him. Sure, you've done some fucked up things but Jaemin never cared about that. You showed him genuine happiness, and Jaemin could never see you in the light that Jeonghan and Jiho painted you out to be.

And just like clockwork, your name popped up in his screen. Just as if everything in the past fifteen minutes never happened, his steps became slightly faster as he grabbed his things. He couldn't be more excited to see you again.

---

"This is pretty." Jaemin pointed out a painting, whilst he dressed himself. You were also doing the same thing, but you looked at where he was pointing at.

It was your artwork from last year. The canvas was leaning beside your dresser, along with other canvasses that you never put up.

"Wonderstruck." you said. You were a bit appalled that Jaemin noticed the only work you were actually proud of. It wasn't even displayed in the front, it was almost entirely covered by unfinished canvasses.

"Wonderstruck? That's its name? It's really beautiful." Jaemin sounded sincere, he really found the painting pretty. It was a couple, sitting by a river on golden hour. Sky was the shade of orange and blue, nighttime seeking in but the sun's still there, laying real low. It was in a middle of a field, lavender flowers scattered around.

It was new to you, men showing interest on something more than your face and body. It sparked something in you, Jaemin knew that with the way you jumped out of your bed, biting your lip, hesitating for a second, "Want to show you something."

"What do you think?" You were standing beside your kitchen table, with a few printed photos of people Jaemin didn't know. It was all in black in white, and all of them showed genuine smiles.

"Cool. Who are they?" Jaemin was adjusting his belt as he scanned every picture. The way you're looking so innocent and fluffy, showing him your photo collection can fool a person into thinking you did not just have mindblowing sex minutes prior. Jaemin stifles a laugh.

You, in your overalls smiled so brightly at him, excited that Jaemin showed interest on your work. "They're random people I saw on the street." You were fidgety, kept on arranging the photos. Looking at Jaemin for any signs of validation. Jaemin thought you were so cute, but he never said it out loud.

"Is it for your project?" Now, Jaemin doesn't have a single clue about the Art department in his school, but he knew it's important for you, so he tried his best.

"No. I just did it." You took one picture and showed it to him upclose. "I just like to see people smiling, you know? There's just something so precious with asking people to smile for you. Because when they do, you can tell that they just feel.. pretty. And I like making people feel pretty." You were so caught up in explaining that you didn't notice how Jaemin was looking at you. And he was thankful you didn't see it.

The way his eyes just expressed a thousand strings of emotions he's afraid to show almost felt dangerous, he didn't want to get caught. But for a moment, he let it happen because he was sure you were focused on something else. All the while he was focused on you. Because while you were explaining how smiling makes people pretty, he was thinking that you didn't need to smile and he's already thinking that you were the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on.

But before you could even looked at him, Jaemin quickly focused his gaze on the photo you were showing him. "That's cool. But I never knew you were into photography aswell. I thought you were into paintings only."

"I'm into art, Jaem. And art comes with different things. Although I like painting more, photography is my second favorite. Here, before you go," Swiftly, you grabbed your polaroid camera and stood beside Jaemin, putting your arms around his shoulder making you stand on your tippy toes, and angling the camera where it could capture you both. Jaemin was caught by surprise but he still managed to smile and pull you tighter.

As soon as the flash disappeared, you removed yourself from him and grabbed the film. "This one's for you, so you could remember who your best sex was." She winked at him and chuckled before going back to rearrange her photos.

Jaemin, on the other hand, his eyes never left your figure. He was in awe, he was amazed, and fuck it, he was wonderstruck. But most importantly, he was fucking scared.

---

The next thursday came, and surprisingly, you didn't call. Jaemin liked to think you were just busy, so he never reached out. There's still sunday, he thought. And even if you didn't reach out this sunday, its okay. It's not like you had to keep the schedule, right?

Besides, Jaemin was busy aswell. He's planning Jeno's birthday. Usually, Renjun and Haechan was the one assigned to planning parties, but Renjun was occupied and Haechan wasn't feeling it. They were still helping Jaemin, its just that Jaemin wanted to throw a party for his bestfriend this time. Also, to take his mind off of you for a bit.

If he wasn't busy and occupied with something, Jaemin might go insane thinking about where you are or why you haven't been calling him. So he initiated.

"How fucking long is your list, Jaemin?" Renjun couldn't believe how long he's been scrolling through Jaemin's list for the party invitations. Yet, he isn't surprised.

"You know you can just announce that you're throwing a party and literally everyone who knows you and Jeno will come, right?" Haechan, laying on the couch scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

"Nah, I don't want some weirdo showing up uninvited." Jaemin pointed out, but he left out another reason. He wanted to waste time on listing names just to get you out his mind even for a short time.

"Well don't forget about Jisung's best friend." Haechan smirked.

"Jeno's brother's bestfriend? That's weirdly specific, bro." Jaemin added, shrugging his shoulders. Still, he wrote it down.

"A little birdie told me that Jeno has a thing for his brother's bestfriend." Haechan chuckled, fixing his glasses.

"What? How come I never knew that?" Jaemin asked. He's Jeno's best friend and an information like this would surely come up. Yet its the first time he's heard of this.

"That's because you're so far up that mystery y/n girl's ass you're starting to look like anal beads, bro." Renjun winced at Haechan's choice of words, but then again, he's used to it.

"I'm not, dude. I'm here most of the time, aren't I?" Jaemin looked at Renjun for validation, but he just rolled his eyes at him.

"He's actually right, Jaemin. You're whipped." Renjun added, smirking.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm literally here in front of you guys, on a thursday, which I'm supposed to be with her-- but I'm not because she didn't call-- but also because I want to be with you ass--"

"The more you talk, the more you prove our point. You're fucking whipped, Na Jaemin." Haechan sat down properly, playfull shoving Jaemin to provoke him. Jaemin just hit Haechan's hands away but that didn't stop the boy from annoying him.

"Think of it, dude. You went through two months with her-- only her. Two months-- dude. That's fucking bizarre for you. It's either that pussy was gold, or-- just like what we're saying, your ass is whipped." Haechan was pissing Jaemin off, not because he doesn't agree, its because he does. And admitting that would just fuck up everything you two have.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You guys are tripping, big time. I'm not whipped." Lies tasted bitter in his mouth. He might just be whipped.

He walked out of their hangout room, and just as he opened the door, his eyes widen. You were there, standing with your messy bun, clueless eyes and a box in your hand.

"H-hey?" Jaemin was caught offguard, as he closed the door behind him.

"That room looks like it stinks."

Jaemin chuckled, it does. "Mostly of weed and old furniture. What's up?"

"I,- uh, baked some cookies. Just-- y'know, wanted you to have some." You awkwardly raised your box of cookies to present them to Jaemin, and it takes so much of him not to melt on the spot.

"Thank you," Jaemin resisted the urge to call you 'baby', mostly because he didn't know if he was allowed to do it outside your apartment.

"Tell you what-- why don't we eat it together?" Jaemin.

"I'm free until 4:30?"

"Cool, we can go to the garden, there's barely any student there."

Jaemin smiled and grabbed you by your wrist. "But I know a much more cooler place."

"Really? Where?" Jaemin stopped, and it was your turn to hold him by the wrist.

Jaemin didn't ask, he just let you drag him anywhere. You could take him to a lion's den, he wouldn't care. Anywhere is fine with him as long as you're there.

After climbing on a flight of stairs, Jaemin noticed that you two ended up on Art department building's rooftop.

He hasn't been in here, and it was.. interesting. It looks like any other rooftop, messy and full of unused class chairs, except there was a spot where there's an old couch, just like what they have on their hangout spot. There's a random mini refrigerator and a lamp-- thats it.

"This is my super secret place. Be greatful I let you in here." You squinted your eyes at Jaemin as you patted the seat beside you, basically asking him to sit.

Jaemin did so, and looked ahead. He can see the entire school campus in here.

"This is pretty." He whispered.

"Much better than your stinky room, huh?" You bragged, opening a can of cola that you have on the mini fridge.

"Hey, how come you have that? We requested to have one but the stupid school didn't let us."

"Oh, this little guy? Johnny helped me with it." You smirked, tapping the blue mini fridge.

"Johnny?" A new name in Jaemin's books. Who's Johnny?

"Nurse Suh? His name is Johnny Suh, you didn't know?"

"I didn't." His vibe went a bit south, but he didn't let that spoil your moment together. It was rare for you to approach him in school, and he wanted to have that moment.

"This is good, damn." Jaemin munched on the cookies you got for him and it was honestly tasty. Better than any other cookies he had before, or maybe he was biased and his judgement was greatly affected by the fact that you made it. Eitherway, the cookies are delicious.

"I only made one batch and even that was too much for me. I wanted to give some out but.." you paused. "Funny, you're the only one I had in mind."

"Nurse Suh?" Jaemin didn't even know why he brought the guy up again, but he did.

"Nah, we don't do that." You smiled.

"And we do?" A tinge of hope sparked in Jaemin, that maybe he had some difference between him and Nurse Suh. Maybe you do treat him more special. A guy can dream, can't he?

"Sure, we do. I mean, I can't just throw away this exceptionally good tasting cookies, can't I? And you're the only one I have right now.. so."

Jaemin was enthusiastic. He felt like he won something. He can't help but smile even more, but also, he felt bad. When you said he was the only one you have, he thought about Jiho and Jeonghan.

"What about the Yoon siblings?"

You let out a humourless chuckle, more like a scoff. "Jiho doesn't talk to me anymore and Jeonghan.. well. It's complicated."

"I swear I just saw you two eating at the cafeteria." Heck, that's how he found out about you. Because you were sitting at the cafeteria beside Jeonghan.

"He just sat with me because he felt bad I was eating alone. Also I barely go down there to eat-- so he kinda just.. I don't know. Let's not talk about them anymore, Jaem."

---

"Look at me, baby." Jaemin whispered, softly grabbing your jaw to turn your head towards him. He has you on your side, holding your right thigh up as he slowy thrust. He can see that you're near, and damn, he can feel it too.

"J-jaem.." You start shaking, as your entire body give out. Looking into his eyes, his own pleasure wasn't on the table anymore, he just wants you to feel good. He can safely say that you are indeed the prettiest when you cum, and he's glad he can see you this way.

"That's right, sweetheart. Let go for me, will you?" This was very different on how you usually do it with him. You were usually intense, rough and fast, but something about tonight feels more... passionate. Jaemin never went any faster than his current tempo, yet he still hits every spot. Slow and deep, while he looks at your face, admiring the beauty he's glad he had the priviledge to see.

"Kiss me, Jaemin." You didn't even have to ask twice, Jaemin already dipped his head lower to reach your lips, tasting you while your walls tightens, your whimpers covered by his own lips, you just came.

Once Jaemin pulls away, he pulls a few strings of hair strands away your face to see you. Your eyes glistening, and not long when you let a tear drop. Jaemin could never wish for anything more than this.

"You're so beautiful, y/n." He whispered, more to himself, than to you.

"Thank you." You softly answered, smiling at him and giving him another kiss. Jaemin then let go of your thigh, instead wrapping his arms on your waist. It seems like you got the idea that he's near his climax so you positioned yourself in a way that he gets more of you, sticking your backside out more thus facing away from him.

"No, no, princess keep looking at me." Jaemin whispered and you followed, facing him again.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" You asked sensually. His thrust slightly getting deeper, but never faster. His eyes went back and forth with both of your eyes as he nodded.

"For you, my love." He mumbled. His jaw slightly ajar, brows furrowed as he let out a deep moan, abruptly staying still and you felt his release warming up your walls.

"You did so good, Jaemin. So, so good." Your compliments just adds to his pleasure. Shivers ran down his spine, he manages to calm himself after his intense climax.

"You're so good to me. I lik--" Before Jaemin finishes, you pulled away from him.

"I'm taking a piss." You said, forcing yourself to stand up and walk your way to the bathroom.

And just like how he felt so good seconds before, it suddenly got washed away with the feeling of dismay. He can't believe he just attempted to say that. Fuck. Running his hands on his face, he mentally curses himself for being wreckless.

You were still in the bathroom when Jaemin heard a few knocks. He's confused, grabbing his phone to look at the time.

9:47pm. Who could visit you at this time?

He grabbed his boxers and quickly putting it on, as well as his shirt but he didn't bother to make himself presentable. He opened the door and his eyes widen.

"Nurse Suh?" He eyed the tall man, and the guy eyed him too. Both of them are confused as to why the other is standing where they are.

"Na Jaemin? What the hell are you doing here?" Johnny wasn't even sure why he was asking that, it's clear with Jaemin's shuffled hair and obviously--- him in his boxers.

"I'm sure you know the answer to that." Jaemin sounded rude, but he does not give a shit. Nurse Suh poses as a threat to him and your-- uh, situationship -- and Jaemin doesn't have a reason to be nice to him.

"Where is she?" Johnny's voice was full of concern, as he looked past the younger boy just to get a glimpse inside your apartment. That's until Jaemin steps outside, and closing the door behind him.

"What do you want from her?" Jaemin looks at him, and although the guy was taller and has a bigger built, again, he doesn't care.

"I'm sure you know the answer to that." Johnny's tone and him mocking Jaemin pissed him more. Letting out a huge breath, Jaemin looked at him straight in the eyes.

"You know-- you're whole relationship with her is fucked up, right?" Johnny was surprised on how Jaemin just turned off the calm facade. He didn't expect him to be triggered like this

"What relationship? You out of all people should know she doesn't do relationsh--"

"Yeah, whatever. You can't fuck around with her anymore, man. You're a fucking school staff, and she's a student. Also, you have a fucking girlfriend. I don't know how you're okay with this."

"The same way she's okay with it. Look, kid," Johnny closed his eyes and massaged his temples, he continued. "... me and her, we've been through some shit. Shit that you can't handle. But I know.. man, you care for her. And I don't want to hear your bullshit, you do care for her. And I do too. But she's not the kind to be with, y'know? She's gonna ruin--"

"Fuck! You weren't the only one who fucking told me that. I don't know what she did to you, but she's fine with me. If you think of her as this fucking tragedy on legs, then maybe you don't really care, don't you? But I do. So get off my fucking ass and don't see her again. Or I'm gonna have to report you." Jaemin didn't know where all of his words came from, but it did feel good. He doesn't think about the consequences of everything, but one thing's for sure. He's not gonna let anyone talk shit about you anymore.

Johnny, tho, never flinched. Instead, he smirks and even let out a chuckle. "You've got some nerves, kid. Okay. I'll back off. But don't come running back when she breaks you." he then turned around and got ready to leave, but a few steps in, he turned to Jaemin again.

"...oh, and tell her Happy birthday."

Jaemin stood there for a minute, watching Johnny leave. It's your birthday? How come you never said anything?

After a few deep breaths, he went inside the apartment again. Just in time when you walked out the bathroom, hair all wet and with a set of new pajamas.

"You done?" Jaemin approached with a smile.

"Yeah. You wanna take a shower?" You looked up at him. He shook his head as he patted your head. "You hungry?" he asked.

You smiled even more, looking up at him expectantly, "Please?"

"Okay. I'll go get us some food, alright? You don't worry your pretty little head." Jaemin gave you a kiss on the top of your head before getting his pants and keys, walking out of the apartment.

Not even half an hour, Jaemin came back. Not only with takeout, but also a bento box. You looked at him kind of confused on what it is, but when he opened it, your eyes widen. It was a small cake that he bought on the convenience store. He wanted a much more expensive one but he also wants to get back to you as soon as possible.

He then pulled out a small candle, sticking it onto the cake. Pulling out a newly bought lighter, and lighting the candle. "Happy birthday, princess. Make a wish." He smiles softly at you.

When all of this was happening, you didn't say a thing. You just looked at him with your glassy eyes, your mouth slightly apart. You blinked hard and fast before finally tracing back to yourself, "I'm.. how did you know?" you asked.

"Doesn't matter. Now come on, candle's burning out." Thats when you looked down on the candle, quickly closing your eyes, clasping your hands together as you thought hard about what you're wishing. Seconds after, you opened your eyes and blew on the candle.

Jaemin was still smiling, setting the small cake aside to give you a kiss on your forehead. He was surprised when your arms wrapped around his waist.

"Why do you have to make me so happy, Jaem? You make it so hard. So hard." You whispered, but Jaemin heard everything. He desparately wanted to answer, because he had an answer. And its something he's afraid to tell you. Because the result was uncertain. Its either it goes perfectly well, or he lose you. And he's not gonna take that risk.

So instead, he just returned your embrace, but even more tighter, giving you another kiss on your forehead. "I don't know." he answered quietly, lying to you and to himself.

"You're a good person, Jaem. Anyone would be lucky to have you." Your vulnerable voice made Jaemin feel warm. In a way, you sounded truthful. You felt genuine.

"You're lucky, then." Slowly, Jaemin. Lay it on her slowly.

"I can't have you." Your bitter smile showed.

"Why not?" Every second counted, every breath you take suddenly mattered.

"I can't do that to you," With a shaking voice, you buried your face in his chest even more.

"I don't understa--"

"Just shut up, shut the fuck up and let me have this." And with that, Jaemin never muttered another word. Instead, he just held you closer like this was the last time he gets to do so.

"Jaem?" You looked up at him, Jaemin looked dow n at you with his eyebrows up.

"I'm sorry." You said. And Jaemin didn't want to ask why you were apologizing, he doesn't like to know the reason behind it. Because he doesn't want you to give him a reason why he needs to forgive you about something.

---

"I think I'm inlove with her."

"Ya think?" Jeno, deep inside his phone, seems like he's stressed about something. Never minding his best friend's struggle, because everybody already knew Jaemin was inlove with you. It's not new information.

"Fuck! Shit!" Both their heads turn as they saw Renjun ran inside their hangout spot and closed the door.

"Hell is wrong with you?" Jaemin asked, but Renjun ignored him and proceeds to lock the door.

"Why's everybody so weird today?" Jaemin mumbled.

It is a very weird day for Jaemin. Somehow, he feels like something's not right. Well, yeah, his undying love for you was one thing he was stressed about but there's more, today's not like every other day, he thought.

That goes on for the rest of his morning. Its like he's waiting on something to happen, like everybody was so tense. You didn't text or call either, which was feeding onto Jaemin's paranoia. It's not like he's being clingy, but he's genuinely feeling something unsettling in his chest.

Maybe it was the coffee he had this morning, or maybe the fact that he's never had this dilemma about a girl before.

So, finally giving up his pride, he texted you.

4:50pm jaemin: wya

4:52pm jaemin: heyy

4:58pm jaemin: ??

You not answering definitely did not help. So, the next big thing he can come up with was go to your apartment. Not a smart choice but Jaemin never once claimed to be smart.

Once he took a step towards your door, for a moment. Jaemin regretted going here. He can see that your lights are on, and can hear shuffling inside. But fuck it, he's already here.

He thought you had someone over, maybe Johnny, or someone else. That made him heated. But the closer he was on your front door, he heard yelling-- and another voice, which he could tell was from a girl.

The door was ajar-- and once he was right infront of it, he could hear everything.

"Y/N! Please! Not him-- he's a good person. You know that!" He confirmed that it was Jiho who was arguing with you.

"I don't care what you feel, Jiho. Get the fuck out of my apartment!"

"Leave Jaemin alone--" Once Jaemin heard his name, his feet froze on the spot.

"Why the fuck are you so nosy? Is it because I stole your little Na Jaemin? Then go ahead! Get him back! But, oh-- newsflash, he doesn't want you anymore. Washed up and used--" The sound of a slap made Jaemin finally interfere. He walked up inside your apartment and saw you holding your cheek and Jiho crying. Both of them looked at him shocked.

"What are you doing here?" Jiho was the first one to speak, but Jaemin's eyes were focused on you.

"Did you just hurt her?" Jaemin was angry. The sight of your cheeks red and the fact that he knows Jiho just slapped you didn't sit right with him.

"Didn't you heard what she said?! Didn't you fucking understand what kind of person she is?" Jiho cried even more, she couldn't believe that someone as sweet as Jaemin would side with the most vile person she knows.

"Doesn't give you the right to hurt her." Jaemin threw all his principles away at this point. He doesn't care anymore.

"You're poisoning his mind, Y/N!" Jiho shouted, which you just smirked at her. Jaemin can't find the warmth inside your eyes, he just saw something empty.

"I didn't do shit, Jiho. Maybe you should just learn how to get out of my fucking trail. Or should I do something? Should I break your brother's heart for the second time?" Jaemin didn't know this version of you. Its like you've thrown away every emotion you have just to spite everyone.

"Don't you fucking dare." Jiho attempted to step towards you again but Jaemin put himself in between you and Jiho.

"Just go, Jiho." Jaemin calmly said.

Jiho didn't say anything, and let out a huge puff before walking out of the apartment, sobbing. She slammed the door shut and quickly the room went silent. None of you dared to talk for the first couple of minutes.

"I didn't want you here," you started.

Jaemin didn't say anything, instead, picking up some things that fell on the floor, trying to fix the apartment. Your paint brushes, your keys, and even some of your photos were on the floor. Must've been a very intense argument.

"Did you hear me, Jaemin? I don't want you here!" your voice strained, Jaemin pretended not to hear you as he continue to clean up the mess.

"Are you hungry? Want me to get you dinner?" Jaemin's voice was as normal as it can be. It doesn't make sense to you. But everything in this situation doesn't make sense.

Jaemin should be mad. Jaemin should go and leave you. Jaemin wasn't supposed to stay.

"Whatever-- do what you want. I'm going to bed."

Jaemin likes to think that in a couple of hours, you'll come up and be in a great mood. Sun shining and all that corny shit. Jaemin was also overly enthusiastic, one that masks with the real thing he's feeling right now. Nervous. Worried.

For a couple of days. Jaemin tried his best to get you out of your apartment because remember, you two are students. You were supposed to go to school. But you never left your bed. And for the first few days, Jaemin didn't go to school too. He was in your apartment day and night, looking after you. This wasn't like you before, Jaemin swears its like you're a whole new different person.

You didn't talk, didn't want to get up, and he knows damn well you aren't sleeping for the past days. You just layed there, emotionless.

He didn't know why he was doing this. You weren't you anymore and Jaemin doesn't know who he was even taking care of anymore. But he's still here. He's still with you.

The third day went and Jaemin is still in your apartment. Ignoring his friends-- and shit, even his mom. He doesn't want them to know why he's MIA for the past few days. He doesn't want everyone to know yours and his business. Whatever happenes between you two, stays between you two.

Jaemin woke up with you sitting on the kitchen. Eyes staring at nowhere, hair dishevelled and bags under your eyes forming.

"Goodmorning," Jaemin said in his sweet voice, careful not to scare you.

"I don't know how many times I should tell you this, but you should go, Jaemin. While I'm being nice." Even your voice sounds like a stranger. The pinch of joy that used to come with your voice were no longer there.

"I will, but I need to make sure you're fine---"

"I'm fine! I don't fucking need you here!" You yelled, Jaemin flinched but still remained calm.

"Are you hungry--"

"Maybe you've become dumb and stupid that you can't comprehend a simple fucking sentence, huh? I'm done with you, Jaemin. I'm sorry but you're useless to me now. I need a new face around here and yours is--"

"You really want me to leave?" Jaemin sincerely asked, like he was tired. Your eyes lifted, and you nodded.

"Yes." Jaemin's lips formed a thin line, his jaw clenched.

"Fine." He calmly walked away-- and convinced he can't take it anymore. He was tired mentally, emotionally and physically. You didn't want to be helped and Jaemin knew he can't handle you.

But as soon as the door shut behind him, his feet stood frozen as he waited. And not even a couple of minutes, the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the door made Jaemin turn his steps.

He was tired, but not fatigued. He knew he couldn't handle you but he can try. You didn't want to be helped but maybe tomorrow you change your mind. And maybe, just maybe, he can take another day.

"Breakfast, y/n. Come on." Jaemin, the fourth day. He went home for a bit, took a shower, but quickly went back to your place. And in his surprise, you were out of bed.

He can hear the faucet running, so he knew you were in the bathroom.

A few moments later, he heard you coming out of the shower. And there you are, hair all wet, freshen up after a few dreadful days and Jaemin was starting to see the color coming back in your skin.

"You feeling better, baby?" He softly asked.

"What are you still doing here?"

Jaemin didn't say anything, instead, giving you the most precious smile he had. "Come on, I cooked pancakes."

"Jaemin, get out. We're done, Jaemin. Get the fuck out!" Tears started forming again in your newly healed eyes, as you pointed out the door.

"I'm not leaving you, y/n." Finally, Jaemin acknowledged the situation.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? When I say we're done, we're done, Jaemin. Can't get that through your thick head?" Words spew like venom, Jaemin starting to feel like he's staring at a stranger. Who is this person in front of him?

"I know you're upset and you haven't eaten a proper meal in days--"

"The fuck do you care?" And with that, you ticked something off from Jaemin.

"Fuck do I care?! Y/N, you've pushed everyone around you away and I was the one who stayed! For days I didn't go anywhere and stayed with you, y/n. Do I care?! Because even if I don't know what the fuck is going on with you I still fucking stayed! So yeah, I'd like to think that I care for you because I fucking lo-- shit!" Jaemin caught himself before actually saying the thing. He knows its a deal breaker if he said it but hopefully, you already felt it.

"Did I ask you to do all of that shit?"

Jaemin can almost feel his heart shatter. You really didn't care about him, or his feelings. He had a little bit of hope. And with a single sentence, you destroyed it.

Jaemin let out a humourless chuckle. "Fine. We're fucking done, y/n."

---

It's been a week and Jaemin's friends started to worry. Jaemin barely ate-- didn't attend his classes and barely got out of their hangout spot. Jeno had a call with his mom and told him that Jaemin didn't once contact them in almost a month. And thats where Jeno knew something was wrong. Jaemin loved his mom-- and he would never ghost her.

"Man, I don't know what to do. He just flicked me off when I offered him ramen." Haechan was serious. You barely see him being this concerned-- but even him, knows something was wrong with Jaemin.

"Is it about that y/n girl?" Renjun asked.

"Probably. I mean, eversince she came into the picture Jaemin basically became a different person." Jeno haven't met you yet, but this, what you're doing to his bestfriend definitely isn't giving a good impression.

"Maybe they're done. If Jaemin's looking like this and haven't mentioned a single thing about her, I think that's what this is." Renjun said, looking at his friend, and his sleeping figure.

"I have an idea." Haechan stood up and huddled his friends, but Jeno and Renjun stepped away. "No, Haechan, you don't."

"What? At least I'm trying to help our friend!" He grabbed both of his friends again, "Anyways-- we should introduce him to another girl. Get him back in the game, y'know?"

"What are we talking about?" The three of them almost jumped when Jaemin was suddenly huddled with them.

"Nothing! We're just thinking about how much booze we're buying for Jeno's party." Haechan's quick wits came into action but Jaemin didn't buy it.

"Stop being weird." He casually walked back to the sofa and plopped himself down again.

Jeno tho, had enough. "You're weird! What the fuck is with this act, bro? You look lovesick or some shit."

"m not doing anything, the fuck are you on about?" Jeno got even more pissed, because Jaemin was blatantly lying.

"That girl you're with is causing trouble, dude. You're barely going to class, we haven't seen you in days, you didn't call your mom in a week and just for her to fuck with the school nurse?" Jeno's still calm, not wanting to escalate the situation. But he figured that Jaemin needs to hear it one way of another.

Jaemin was visibly confused. What did Jeno mean about you with nurse suh? Didn't he already dealt with that?

"Saw her yesterday at the nearby convenience store with Nurse Suh. I don't know, dude but she's not worth all this shit. And I don't even wanna talk about the stuff I heard about her previous school, man." Haechan was a little hesitant about confronting Jaemin, but since Jeno has already started it he's got no choice but to just say it.

"You're out of your mind if you think you have the right to say all that shit. You don't even know her." Every word that Jaemin says was delivered with so much intensity, even the boys were starting to feel uneasy.

"We're just confused Jaem, eversince you met that y/n girl its like you became a whole new perso--" Renjun was cut off when Jaemin let out a scoff.

"Okay, I see what's going on here. If we're airing out our business here then let me have my fucking turn." Jaemin stepped towards Jeno, "You, aren't you shagging your lil bro's bestfriend? Yeah? Guess what, so is half the school."

"Hey, the hell? What's wrong with you, man?" Haechan interfered. He knew the look that Jeno has right now was serious, and he also knew that if he didn't get in between them, chaos will ensue. So he quickly stepped beside Jeno.

"What the fuck do you know about me and her, Renjun? I minded my own business when you went out with your girl out of pity." Jaemin doesn't know where that came from, but it already went out his lips. He wasn't the one to say things like that but somehow it came out. Renjun was fazed, to say the least.

"And you--" Jaemin let out an sigh and smirked, slowly turning towards Haechan. "You talk high and mighty but everybody knows you're a fucking cheater, Lee Haechan. So you, especially you, doesn't have the right to even mutter a thing about her. Because if we're talking about being an asshole, you take the fucking throne." Jaemin's eyes are empty, and so his mind. He just wanted to say anything to get back at his friends without thinking.

"Fuck you, man. Seriously. All this for that girl? You look fucking pathetic, Na Jaemin." Jeno was aggravated and fuming, but he was never gonna go down with violence, specially with his best friend. He knew better.

"It doesn't even fucking matter what you think about her anymore, cuz y'know what? We're done. She doesn't wanna see me anymore. So go ahead and talk shit about her but make sure I'm not in the fucking room next time." The room was silent, they didn't know what to say. Obviously because this was the first time they saw Jaemin like this.

"I think this shit got out of hand, I know you're upset but we're just genuinely concerned, dude." Renjun, now on the much calmer side, tries to difuse the situation.

"Okay, I'm just gonna ignore what you said because I know you're upset, Jaemin. But come on, man, you've met her what? For two months? And you're already losing yourself? I swear if this could be any other girl I wouldn't say anything but man.. she's only trouble. And you can get angry at us all you want but I'm glad you got out of that situation." This side of Haechan was rarely seen, because it only comes out when they need it the most. And for Jaemin, its also rare that he agrees with Haechan but this time, he did.

For the next week, Jaemin tried to bring himself back, and his friends noticed it too. He became active again, going to parties with them and even got back to planning on Jeno's birthday party. There was no sign of you, your name or your presence. Jaemin was starting his old ways again, meeting some girls here and there.

"Hey, what did I tell ya, huh? She's great, isn't she?" Haechan grinned at him, as they walked together.

"Nah, I've had better." Jaemin non-chalantly said.

Haechan looked at his friend, smile slowly getting bigger. "There's the asshole I know, glad you're back to the game, man!" Haechan with his proudest smile, shook Jaemin playfully and but the boy did nothing but chuckle.

His friends were satisfied and pretty much convinced that you were completely out of Jaemin's system. To see Jaemin go back to whatever he was before you, definitely brought back the Jaemin they knew.

"Happy birthday, man! Whew, how does it feel to be an old hag?" Haechan joked as he hugged Jeno, Jeno just playfully pushed him away.

The music was loud and people were starting to fill up Jeno's house. It's his parent's house and they were out of town, as per Jeno's request on his birthday. No one wants to party with their parents, ofcourse.

To say that Jaemin pulled off the party planning was an understatement. It was only 8pm and the party is already packed. Jaemin really outdid himself on this one, also with a little help from Haechan and Renjun.

"Happy birthday, Lee! This party is fucking lit, dude!" Yangyang, from engineering department went and greeted Jeno. "We've got Jaemin to thank for that." Jeno responded loudly, trying to communicate among the loud music.

"Yeah-- where's Na?" Yangyang asked, and Jeno was clueless as him. He knew Jaemin was in the house, he saw him earlier. But after that he never saw him again.

His eyes went around the room to find atleast Haechan or Renjun, and he only found Renjun on the side, in his phone. "He's around, somewhere." Jeno answered, bidding goodbye to the friend and walked across the room to approach Renjun.

"Where's Jaemin?" Jeno managed to ask.

"Upstairs with the girl Haechan introduced him to!" Renjun wiggled his eyebrows at Jeno, and Jeno nodded in agreement. At least he knew Jaemin was having fun.

Little did they know, Jaemin wasn't having fun.

"Come on, Jaemin.. how long does it take?" The girl whispered sexually, kissing his neck like its her last meal.

"Just.. don't talk." Usually it doesn't take Jaemin this long to get hard, but the girl just doesn't do it for him. Its been almost thirty minutes and Jaemin is getting tired, but he also doesn't want to disappoint, so he tries his best to focus on the girl, but he just couldn't.

His phone constantly vibrating doesn't help, so he grabbed it and threw it on the other side of the bed.

Jaemin closed his eyes, felt every single touch and did the worst thing he could ever do to himself. He imagined it was you.

You were touching him, kissing him and giving him warmth. It's you he's with, not this girl, not any girl. Its you. And it worked. It brought back memories of you that sparked something in his body. Small waves of pleasure started. And just as he's slowly starting to function, he heard the door open.

Jaemin's back was facing the door but the girl on his lap can see who just entered. The little mindgames in his head was interupted when the sound of the door brought him back to reality.

"What the fuck? This room is occupied!" The girl with him yelled, completely destroying the fantasy Jaemin created in his head. He's back to square one again, and this time he's not trying again.

As soon as the intruder left, Jaemin lifted the girl off his lap. "Sorry, Cindy, bab--" he can't even call her 'baby'. "--but you need to go."

Jaemin didn't wait for her answer and left her on the bed while he walked and locked himself on the bathroom.

As soon as he knew that the girl had officially left, that's when he went out to his room again. His hands finding his phone, he checked what time it is. 9pm.

Jaemin brushed his hands through his hair, frustrated and strssed.

He ignored the multiple chat that Jeno and Renjun had sent, and went to an food delivery app instead.

Delivery Status: Successful

Items: 1 Full Steak Meal with Pineapple Juice and NY Cheesecake

Total: 80,000krw

Notes: Don't skip a meal :) -J

Jaemin has been sending food to your place for the past week. In exactly 9pm, when he knew you'd usually have your dinner.

The next morning, he woke up fine. He didn't really drink much so he didn't have any sort of headaches or symptoms of a bad hangover.

The house was eerily quiet, as usual, the morning after a very big party.

He was the first to wake up and the whole house was trashed. He didn't expect anything else, ofcourse seeing the amount of people last night.

He knew all four of them was still in the house tho, maybe a couple of girls, so as the designated sober person he took the initiative to prepare breakfast. It was calming for Jaemin to take care of people.

Not long after he heard a couple of footsteps, and of course, it was Renjun.

"Mornin'" Renjun, hair sticking out everywhere, still in his clothes from last night.

"Had fun last night?" Jaemin asked, smirking.

"Didn't you read the texts I sent you last night?" Renjun asked. Jaemin's smirk disappeared.

"What text?"

"Jeno wouldn't want me to tell you this but... she was here. She was looking for you but Jeno and I didn't tell her where you were. She knew that you were here because she told us you invited her a while ago, she looks so.. tired. And then she asked Jisung, who doesn't have a clue with the whole y/n situation so he told her that you were upstairs." Renjun thought that Jaemin needed to know what happened. Jeno thought otherwise.

Jaemin felt his blood drain out of his body. He remembered someone knocking and opening the door to where he was with a girl last night, but he didn't know who it was. Jaemin's heart was racing. He was sure it was you. And he was also sure how fucked up it is to find him like that.

Jaemin didn't say anything, grabbing his keys as he left Renjun thinking if he made the right decision.

"Y/n! Y/n!" Jaemin was knocking on your door with urgency, and after a few, the door opened.

You were there. Standing in front of him but why can't Jaemin find any familiarity?

You were so different. You've lost weight. You're not you-- yet his heart still beats the same. His eyes still found warmth as you looked at him. The smile that left no trace on your face still lingered around Jaemin's memories and for that he still knows that somehow, you're still you.

"Hey." You whispered. You sounded weak.

Jaemin was about to hug you-- confront you about last night but once his eyes left the beauty that is your face, his heart skipped a beat. His body froze, he felt like time stopped.

Your shirt. Your fucking shirt. You're wearing a faded out starwars shirt.

"W-what are you wearing?"

"Oh this? Ah, right! Tell Haechan thank you for last night-" You smiled, the sweetest smile that Jaemin once loved, was now stabbing him in the chest.

"Don't..-- Why are you-- I don't understand.." Jaemin finally broke down, eyes letting go of the tears he held. You're breaking him down-- you're ruining him.

"What? You thought I was better?"

"Y/n.. don't do this to me.." Jaemin whispered. Knees giving out, yet he remained still.

"I don't know what to tell you, Jaemin. I'm everything they told you I would be."

"You're just.. cruel. My friend, y/n? My fucking friend?" In contrast with his cursing, his tone wasn't angry. It was despair.

"Will you leave me now?"

"Did you.. did you sleep with him?" Stupid question.

"I don't know, Jaemin. Did I?"

"You're.. fuck, y/n you're just cruel. Cruel and fucking unfair. Whatever did I do to you?" His voice strained. Drip-drop.

"Do you finally hate me?" Drip-drop.

Drip-drop.

Drip...drop.

"Yeah.. yeah I think I do."

And there it was. The last drop of Jaemin's feelings for you. Congratulations, y/n. You've finally drained him out of love.

---

Three days, Jaemin went off the grid. He stayed with his mom, giving himself a break.

He didn't want to contact any of his friends. At least not for now. He knew he still had that pent up anger towards Haechan, and he don't want to do anything that would result in him being violent. He knew that it was all your plan, just to get him to leave you alone.

What he couldn't understand is why Haechan did it. Haechan knew what Jaemin felt for you, like shit, he knew before Jaemin even knew for himself. He was one of the people who made Jaemin realize his feelings for you.

He wished he had listened to everybody and just left you alone. He wished he took everyone's advice and minded his own business. Maybe all of this wouldn't have happened.

Eventually he had to comeback. His school isn't very much happy with him and its not like its the end of the world. Everything is moving on but him, and nobody likes to be left behind.

As soon as his friends saw him, Haechan froze. He quickly tried and approached Jaemin. "Dude. Where were you? Everybody was looking for you--"

"Don't touch me, Lee Haechan." Jaemin wasn't angry, but he wasn't calm either. His tone is strong and firm, enough to stop Haechan from his tracks.

"Is this about Jeno's birthday?" Jaemin wanted to punch Haechan for even bringing it up. How could he?

"I swear to God if you don't step back--"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jaemin?" Renjun was the one to interfere this time.

"What's wrong with me? This fucker slept with y/n and you're asking me what's wrong with me, Huang?!"

"Hold up-- hold the fuck up, What do you mean?" Jeno, eyes going back and forth between Haechan and Jaemin.

"She told you we slept together?" Haechan was legitamately confused.

"She was wearing your ugly ass shirt, Haechan."

"Yeah because I lent it to her? She was at the party and I accidentally bumped into her and she got alcohol spilled all over her shirt, Jaemin. So I had to fucking give her a shirt and then she ran away right after. You think I'd do that to you?!" Haechan was fully arguing with him now but Jaemin had remained silent.

Then why did you let him think that you did it? Why would you put him through this? Are you that desparate to make Jaemin hate you?

Jaemin brushed his palm all over his face. He was dumbfounded. He then plops down on the couch, deliberately thinking about the past few days he spent trying to get you off his head. And he thought he was damn near on succeeding, but the sudden information struck him down again.

And just as the tension was slowly coming down, a sudden intrusion on their room made the four of them look at the door.

"He's here? Na Jaemin!" Jiho burst through the door, passing through the three boys who were too caught in the moment to stop her.

"J-Jiho.." Jaemin stood up again, as Jiho stood in front of him.

"What did you do?!" Jiho was frustrated and angry, to say the least.

"Let's calm down," Renjun, the forever pacifist meekly attempted to delute the situation in hand.

"No! I told you, Jaemin! We told you to stay away from her!" Jiho.

"Are you blaming him? Your friend is a pathological liar who likes to play with peopl--" Jiho angrily turned towards Jeno, making the boy stop his rant.

"You're not part of this." Jiho then looked at Jaemin again.

"We're done, Jiho. I don't want her anymore. I don't want anything to do with her--"

Jiho smirked, "She left, Jaemin. She pulled out of school."

The room filled with silence, and it was so loud. Nobody wanted to say anything, partly because they were waiting for Jaemin to react.

"She-- what?" Jaemin was shocked. His body didn't know how to react. Every bones started to feel loose, it was so eerily quiet that it feels like he can count the seconds it takes for his heart to beat again.

Jiho's tears started to flow. "She was sober for six months, you know? We thought we finally fixed her-- she was doing fine. And then you-- you just had to come in and ruin everything."

"I don't underst--"

"I don't want to blame it all on you, because I know you're also hurt-- but Jaemin we begged you to stay away from her. But you didn't. You--" Jiho sat down, hands on her face, shoulders shaking.

"S-she--" Jaemin couldn't form a sentence.

"Where were you? In the past three days, Jaemin, where were you?" Jiho took a sharp breath, raising her head and looked at Jaemin once again.

"I was at my mom's..." Jaemin answered meekly.

"I found out last Thursday. When you saw us fighting at her apartment, that was when I caught her doing drugs. I was trying to--, fuck, I was trying to throw it away and then she got angry and started to talk about you. I guess she felt that you were by the door and started to talk about you.." Jaemin remembers that clear as day. The day you visibly changed right in front of his eyes.

"She left Sacred Heart last year because of the scandal. It hit her so bad, and that's when it started. She was introduced to drugs and later diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Me and Jeonghan knew her from our childhood and we did our best to help her. And then she went out with Jeonghan and that's when our falling apart happened. She broke my brother's heart and I can't even blame her because I know she only did it because she wants everyone to leave her. She thinks she's a burden to everybody. And then Nurse Suh came into the picture and helped her to get free medication, and when she did, eventually her addiction stopped. And then you happened, and for a while she was so happy. But suddenly Nurse Suh cut her off and the medication stopped. That's why she drove you away, Jaemin. You know what she told Jeonghan before she left? She said that you didn't deserve to be with her."

"She can't leave, did you check the apartment?" Denial. Jaemin can't process everything yet. He doesn't want to.

"Her stuff's out of the apartment. We found this," Jiho pulled out a polaroid picture. Jiho reached out to Jaemin, swiftly before letting go of the photo.

"She's a good person, Jaemin. She's just broken. I know you did your best, but we can't help a person who doesn't want to be helped. I just hope you don't hate her forever." Jiho then walked away.

Jeno, Haechan and Renjun was silent. They didn't say anything, not to disturb their friend's moment of silence. One by one, the left the room, leaving Jaemin and a photo that had a glimpse of a moment where you were once his.

It was the picture of you and Jaemin. Happily smiling. Upon seeing the photo, Jaemin finally broke down.

At the back, there was something written.

Hi, Jaem. Thank you for the food you've been sending! Although I didn't eat it, I still know that it's delicious!! Remember when we talked about photography? How I love people's smile? Guess what? I think yours is my favorite. So please keep wearing it. You're precious, Jaem. I am so sorry for everything. I hope you get the love that you deserve. Do me a favor and forget me, will you? -y/n :)

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

"Is it on?" Jaemin was a giggling mess, infront of you as you filmed him beside you on your bed, nothing but the sheets.

"It is! Okay, ladies and gents,--"

"This man right here," You booped his nose, "Just gave me a mind blowing orgasm about.. hm, six minutes ago?" Jaemin laughed at the camera, before wiggling his eyebrows at it. "I did, one of my proudest talents."

"Shut up!" you laughed. "Anyways, Mr. Jaemin-ssi. Tell the whole world your age and what you want to be when you grow up!" You giggled, focusing the camera on his bare face. His eyes heavy, smile reaching his eyes.

"22, and yours." He whispered as he looked at your eyes instead of the camera lense.

"What? You barely said anything!"

"I just did what you told me, baby. I told my whole world what my age was and what I wanted to be." Jaemin can see the sudden rush of color on your cheeks. You frowned cutely.

"You're a loser." A tinge of smile you desperately hid made Jaemin laugh. He likes it when you pretend you don't like his corny takes.

Jaemin then grabbed the camera, now turned it to you, also nothing but the sheets and bare face. Jaemin is convinced this is what heaven must look like.

"Now to my pretty interviewer-- aren't you gorgeous?" You jokingly cleared your throat, smiled so big that it could make anyone blind.

"Hi, I'm y/n, Jaemin's pretty interviewer."

"So, my pretty girl. 5 years from now, how do you see yourself?" You were a bit unprepared with Jaemin's question, he sees it the way your smiles faltered a bit.

It took you a minute before you answered, "Better. I hope I can be better so I can take care of this little manchild." You somehow turned it light, grabbing the camera from Jaemin and pointing at him.

"Well, y/n from 5 years from now, I'm glad-- I hope, I'm still there by your side."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

"Yeri, I've told you a hundred times, she's my mother so you need to treat her with respect!" Jaemin can't help but yell, just as he followed Yeri out of the restaurant.

"She doesn't like me, Jaemin! Gosh your mother is so-, I'm not dealing with her shit anymore, Jaemin!" Yeri yelled back, stomping her feet as she walked toward's Jaemin's car.

Yeri is Jaemin's girlfriend for four months. He went out with her upon his father's request and to his mother's dismay. His father thought Jaemin could finally settle down with a woman after you.

Jaemin can't help but grunt, looking up, frustrated and honestly just tired. Everyday he questions why he's even with Yeri. The girl did nothing but drain his wallet, disrespect his mother and treat him like a trophy boyfriend.

"She's not allowed in our apartment anymore," Yeri said as she settles herself on Jaemin's passenger seat.

"What apartment? It's my apartment and you sleep there, Yeri. And you can't just-- ban my mother from my place!" Jaemin has already forgotten the time where him and Yeri never argued.

"Did you see the way she looked at me? And you're gonna sit there and not defend me?" Jaemin admits that his mother did have a distaste with his girlfriend, but never once did his mother did anything to show that. She is not that kind of person and Jaemin's sure he's not the only one to vouch for that.

"She was trying to make a conversation and you blatantly ignored her, Yeri."

"I didn't like her tone." she rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone as Jaemin drove. He decided not to talk anymore, mostly because he doesn't want to argue anymore.

"What're we doing here?" Yeri saw that he parked outside her apartment complex.

"I need time for myself, Yeri. I can't handle you anymore." He expressed with utmost respect.

"Are you kidding me? You're kicking me out of your place?!" Yeri squealed, almost making Jaemin cover his ears.

"You can disrespect me but not my mom, Yeri."

Yeri smirked, crossed her arms on her chest, and looked at Jaemin. "You're trash, Jaemin. Such a fucking mama's boy. I bet this isn't even about your mother, huh? Still about that bitch who left y--"

"Get out or I'm gonna have to drag you out, Yeri. Please." Thankfully, Yeri did get out, but not walking away before she slams the door, making Jaemin flinch a bit. He makes sure the Yeri actually went in the building before he drove off.

He pulled out his phone, texting his mom. He decided that he'll just go back to the restaurant and apologize for Yeri's behavior. He knew that his mom was hurt, and he can't let the night pass without comforting his mom.

Luckily, the restaurant is near where he was so it took him about ten minutes to go back. Getting out of his car, he wondered if his parents are still there.

Looking further inside the restaurant, he didn't notice someone walking out the door so inevitably, he bumped and collided with a man. He quickly bows, "I'm sorry, man."

"No worries," Jaemin was a bit perplexed on how deep the man's voice is, but shrugged it off anyways.

"Felix!"

Jaemin felt his heart stop a beat. He knows that voice.

"I'm here," The man responded.

Jaemin was frozen on the spot. He was afraid to look behind him and put a face in to the voice he just heard, but he's sure as hell he's not leaving this spot without knowing who it is.

"Excuse me," This time, the woman was much closer to him as she walked pass Jaemin.

His breath hitched, time slows down as he saw the back of her head.

Before she could even take a step further, Jaemin grabbed her wrists, not thinking of anything,-- just the fact that he desparately wanted to see her face.

"Hey!-- What,-- Jaemin?"

There you are.

Jaemin gulped before blinking to see if he was just hallucinating but there you really are. "Y/N," he whispered, more to himself.

"You know him?" The man, who he assumes was Felix, asked, looking at Jaemin's hands on your wrist. It brought Jaemin back to reality, and swiftly let go of your hand.

"Y-yeah," Your cheeks burned, not letting your eyes away from Jaemin. It was like everyone else blurred out, and you two were the only ones in the room.

"You okay, man?" Thats when Jaemin realized that his jaw was actually a bit slacked, staring at you for a solid minute now. He shook his head to look at Felix,

"Yeah. Uh, y/n, how-- how are you?" Jaemin's breathing was starting to get abnormal, as he was really shocked to see you here.

"Good," you cleared your throat, "Great, actually. Uhm, Felix, this is Jaemin," "Jaemin, Felix." The two shook hands, Felix was still visibly confused but Jaemin was still stuck on you.

"Old friend?" Felix asked.

"Is that what she told you?" Jaemin, glancing on you.

"Yes?" Felix was starting to feel uncomfortable, as he had no clue what the heck is happening in front of him. You two looked perplexed and out of it, to say the least.

"I--, We need to go, Felix. Hey, uhm, Jaemin-?" It was obvious you were aghast, just like Jaemin.

Jaemin looked back at you again, "Yeah?"

"I'll see you around?" You uttered.

"Okay." Jaemin said quietly.

The two started to walk away from Jaemin, but Jaemin was left there frozen. In his own thoughts, drowing in memories about you. Everything came crashing back on him and it was overwhelming. After so long, you still had that power over him. You still manage to get his guard down.

This is fucking dangerous. Jaemin shouldn't even feel like this. One look, one word-- and its like his whole being fell again. Is destiny truly fucking with him? He took so long-- months, to get you out his system. Or at least burn it so deep inside his brain along with the memories you have. And for what? All of it being opened like a freshly sewed wound, all because of a three second interaction?

That night, Jaemin went home with a feeling so familiar. Like he wanted to find you again. Just like the first time he saw you at that cafeteria. He wonders if he'll see you again.

Actually, no. He will make sure to see you again.

---

"You can't break up with me,"

Jaemin sighed, he didn't know what else to do. This was the only way Jaemin thought of, specially after his encounter with you. He knew the effect you had on him that night wasn't the innocent 'seeing your friend after long time' type of thing. He knew there's more to it.

"I'm sorry," and he really is. He didn't want to string Yeri along, and doesn't want to give her false hope that this relationship is going somewhere.

"Is this about your stupid mom? Fine, I'll apologize!" The thing with his mom was also a big thing in coming to this decision. Jaemin likes to think that even if he didn't see you that night, this breakup was inevitable. It was coming, sooner or later.

"Don't-- don't call my mother like that, Yeri, please. And no, there's more to it. Please, I want a clean breakup," Jaemin didn't want to elaborate, he didn't want to hurt Yeri even more.

"You can't leave me, Jaemin! We have a party to attend-- I already told them about you! Do you want me to be embarrassed?" Of course. Of course its about the fucking party.

Jaemin was a trophy for Yeri. Handsome and rich, Yeri bragged about having him in her palms. Jaemin never complained about it but it does bother him. And Yeri bringing it up now just showed him how Yeri never really cared about this relationship.

"You can find a new boy toy, somewhere else, Yeri. I'm done." He's not gonna lie, there's still a pang of guilt when he walked away from Yeri. He knew it was unavoidable, yet it with you in the picture again, it does play a huge part.

"A fucking toast for the newly single man! I'm so proud of you for letting that devil reincarnate go!" Haechan was beyond sober, as he welcomed Jaemin who just came a few minutes earlier.

"You really did it, huh?" Renjun smiled, putting his arm around Jaemin's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess." Jaemin shrugged. Every moment feels important to him. He doesn't have any idea when you'll show up again. So he better not drink even a drop of alcohol, just in case.

"Why the long face?" Jeno was buzzed aswell, completely leaning on the bar couch. Eyes barely open, he's been drinking quite a lot lately.

"Nothing," Jaemin doesn't want to say anything about you and his' encounter, he didn't want to jinx it.

The bar was loud and busy, yet Jaemin was quiet and stuffy. He does feel relieved, breaking up with Yeri was a huge weight off of his shoulder. But he can't get off his mind the words you said.

"I'll see you around?"

Where exactly is around? When will you see him? Is it in the same restaurant? Will you text him to meet? Is that Felix guy your boyfriend?

"You're such a bore, Jaemin. Not even a shot?" Its a mystery how Jeno managed to stand on his feet with how drunk he is but he still did, handing Jaemin a shot, which Jaemin refused.

"Not in the mood,"

"Whatever. Y'know, eversince that gi-"

Before Jeno could even finish, Renjun, which had a little to zero alcohol in his system quickly pulled Jeno down beside him.

"I'll sew your mouth close, Lee. Now sit down and let me fucking find the other Lee." He was referring to Haechan, which also is drunk out of his mind, but still ran into the sea of people on the dancefloor.

"I need a breather," Jaemin decided to go outside the bar, but making sure that Jeno is well situated first before leaving the poor man laying in the couch.

In every other situation, he would've loved to match Jeno's energy and got drunk as much as his best friend, but this time he is truly not in the best condition to do so.

As soon as the bar's door closed behind him, the sudden silence was almost deafening. Which Jaemin wouldn't tell if its much worse than being inside, since he was left with only his thoughts and the street in front of him.

He crossed the road into a nearby convenience store, wanting some water or any drink that could possibly soothe his mind.

"Thank you," He bowed to the cashier, as he paid for the drink in hand.

The store was empty. Just him, the staff, and some random music quietly surrounding the store.

He sat by the stools, contemplating if he should just go home. Phone dead, he disregarded the idea of calling Renjun, who he is sure would prefer to be with him in this quiet convenience store rather than to babysit two grown adults who can't seem to handle their alcohol.

Dropping the phone on the side of the table, Jaemin quietly opened and drank the coca cola he bought. He just now realized that this was his dinner. He forgot to eat. Funny, Jaemin being a big advocate of not skipping a meal, skips a meal.

The dingling sound of the door was heard, Jaemin never bothered to look because again, this is a 7/11. People come and go. A slight set of footsteps was also prominent, seemingly roaming around the store.

"Can I sit here?"

Wide eyes, heart skipping a beat. The music was suddenly gone and everything else blurred out.

"Y-Y/N." He stuttered. He can't swiftly grasp the situation before you sat down the stool beside him.

"Hi." Your hair a bit shorter, cheeks a bit fuller, carrying a shade of pink, your figure covered with a thick coat.

You placed a couple of kimbap in front of you and a coca cola, same as his.

"What are you doing here?" Jaemin, carefully picking his choice of words as to not show any signs of discomfort.

"I was passing by and.. actually, no. I followed you here." For a moment there, you sounded like you wanted to lie, but backtracked and told Jaemin the truth.

"Did you now?" Jaemin remembered when he followed you that one time, and it feels like the tables have turned.

"Yeah, figured we needed to talk." You were timid, can't barely see Jaemin eye to eye. From his memories, you were always confident with what you say. So seeing this demeanor in front of him was a change.

"How are you?" Jaemin asked, genuinely curious.

"Never been better," You answered back, with a full chest and a heave of deep breath like you were relieved.

"I'm glad," Every last word was quickly followed by a complete silence.

After a few moments of deep thought, Jaemin wasn't sure what to say. Yes, before you showed up, questions was flooding in his brain. Asking for answers on why you left, why'd you lie and most importantly, why did you break him for no reason.

Jaemin's thoughts mustve been loud, hence the next dentence that came out of your lips.

"I'm guessing you have questions?"

Maybe Jaemin should've had a few shots before, to ease the tension and gain liquid courage, because fuck, he doesn't think he can handle this tonight.

But for the months you were gone, Jaemin isn't gonna pass this rare chance that you showed up, much more, showing up to talk to him properly.

"Why'd you leave?" Three words that circulated Jaemin's mind on those months you were gone. A question he asked himself a lot of times.

You were still for a bit, likely thinking about the answer. Jaemin could explode at any moment, he feels.

"I signed myself up for rehabilitation."

This wasn't the answer Jaemin expected. Its somehow a blow, to him, because he was angry at you for flaking on him for no reason. But now that you answered one of the many questions he had, it made Jaemin regret some of the things he had thought of about you. His guilt crept in.

"I-, I didn't know."

"Only a few knew about that. You were one of the unlucky ones to have suffered from it, so I thought you needed atleast an explanation." You smiled bitterly, still looking outside, whilst Jaemin looked at your side profile.

You continued. "I assume Jiho had filled you up with some of my dilemmas after I left. But trust me, Jaemin. I never intended to hurt you. You're so undeserving of the things I did but I had to make you hate me. I knew you cared for me back then, more than I had anticipated and I never really wanted to give myself that. I knew I can't receive love I didn't deserve. And I can feel it too, Jaem.." you paused.

Jaem. Oh how he missed the way you called him that.

".. I can feel that you really wanted to fix me. And you truly tried your best. But back then I didn't want to be fixed. And its unfair to have you selfishly. I never slept with your friend, I just made you believe that. I wanted you to despise me, to never think about me ever again." Well, you failed on that part, big time.

"Just hoped you gave me a chance to take care of you," Jaemin muttered.

"I'm not that evil to give you a burden like that,"

"You were never a burden to me,"

You let out a humourless grin, "I'd like to believe that, but we both know that's not true. For as long as I remember, I had been apologizing for just.. existing."

"I could've been there, y/n. I could've helped you."

"No, Jaemin. I don't think so, cuz even then, I couldn't even help myself." You spoke with great sincerity.

Another cruel moment of silence passed, and it was the most intense yet. None of you spoke, as if your thoughts were connected and understood each other without even saying a word.

"You really fucked me up, you know." It was now or never for Jaemin. Might as well open the can of worms now, and regret everything later. He might not have the same courage and opportunity as now.

"I did. And I'm so.. so sorry."

"But it's fine, y/n. I was young and naive, I guess I needed that. I already forgave you, fuck it, I don't even need to because I never truly hated you. All I did was love you, and even after you broke me, I still did." Looking into the distance, after so many failed attempts, he finally said it out loud. He was ready to risk it all, again.

"And I knew that, Jaemin. And maybe, I did love you too but back then I didn't know what love is. It was so scary and overwhelming that even from a distance, I already despised that kind of feeling."

"Are you... happy?" Jaemin thought about the man you were with. And at this moment, your answer was crucial, as it was a defining moment of what step or path he should go next.

"Yes. Are you?" Looking at him, you saw his eyes fill with unspoken comprehension of what its like to be happy and sad at the same time.

Happy that you're doing great, sad because he had just accepted the fact that you're much better with somebody else.

"I have no idea." And that was the truth. He wasn't sure if theres a word that could describe how he feels.

"Yeri, right? I heard from someone that you're with her. She seems great," Oh, what a great timing.

"We broke up already."

You widen your eyes and smiled awkwardly, "I'm sorry,"

"No, its okay. It wasn't working anyways. It was bound to happen sooner or later. You and Felix?"

"He's a great friend. He helped me with sobriety and therapy." Friend? Is that so?

"I thought you were dating," Jaemin liked the way this is going, it gave him hope.

"No, not really, never had anyone after you."

Is Jaemin supposed to be proud? Nonetheless, he felt a slight flutter in his chest. He was about to make a decision that will ultimately trash the imaginary walls he tried to build.

"Have.. have you thought about what we could've been?" Oh, what a risky question.

"Yeah, even back then, I always dreamed about an alternate universe where I wasn't so fucked up and actually tried something with you." Okay. You seem fine now, you seem on track. It wouldn't hurt to try again, right? Jaemin wanted to slap himself. Do he really want to risk it again?

"You could still.. try." The answer is yes.

You furrowed your brows, tilted your head a bit, "I don't think you deserve another heartbreak, specially from me, you know?" You chuckled, yet Jaemin was serious. This time, he's set to have you. He has to have you.

"I'll gladly let you break my heart again, y/n. Trust me, you'll only find yourself inside."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Maybe Jaemin was setting himself up for another heartbreak, but this time he was certain. He was certain to give it his all-- everything he has to lose. You were worth every piece of his heart.

He kissed your lips like he held his entire life on it, like every moment were his last. Running your hands on his hair, you two blindly roamed around your apartment. Luckily, Jaemin still had the entire apartment sketched in his brain.

You felt his hands lower, lifting up your ass, signaling you to jump and cling onto him. You gladly did, and like a feather, he lifted you without any struggle. Lips still tangled together, Jaemin lowered you into the soft texture of your bed.

"I missed you so much," Jaemin groaned as he parted his lips from you. Seeing your face against the dimly lit room was majestic. Not long before he lowered his face onto your neck, giving it open mouth kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

Slowly, he tugged on your shirt upwards, lifted it and revealed your soft pink laced bra, covering your breast. Jaemin didn't waste time grabbed one of you breast, caressing it gently, just enough to bring you pleasure without discomfort.

"Hmm, I missed this," He groaned again.

You whined, being sensitive to every touch he gave you. His hands worked like magic, pulling down your bra and swiftly latching his mouth on your left nipple, while still caressing the other. "Ah, fuck.. baby." you moaned.

You can feel your core dripping already, desperate for any kind of friction. His expert hands left your boob, yet not leaving your skin, just lowering to the area you were sensitive the most. In a split second, your pants was undone and a cold breeze on your center gave you goosebumps all over. "So wet for me,"

"Yes.. yes, please, touch me." You begged for him. You needed him.

"You don't need to beg, princess." Just then, his middle finger applied pressure on your dripping core, igniting a spark that felt so good-- you couldn't help but buck your hips onto his hands.

He was gonna love you, and you were gonna love him. Tomorrow's uncertain, but today was sure. You were meant to be his, and he's meant to be yours.

Let your heart get what it wants. If you get hurt, then you have to endure. Jaemin endured the entire time and its your time to gamble.

While Jaemin was still devouring every inch of your skin, you took this chance to touch his clothed member- already rock hard, seeking freedom from the confinement of his pants. You traced it before gripping it through the fabric, making Jaemin hiss in pleasure.

"Take.. it off." Barely composing a sentence, Jaemin understood the assignment and pulled away, to undress himself. His top came off first, and just like a reflex, your hands quickly find his toned chest, down to his abs. You can't help but bite your lip, seeing his body again after so long. The only difference is, this time, he has a more mature build.

Tracing your hand down to his lower abdomen, and even much lower, and helped him undo his pants. As he disregarded all of his clothes, he didn't waste time and quickly lowered himself again to you. Kissing you with burning passion, he grind his hips onto yours, and you felt his hard length poking your thigh.

Using your hand, you grabbed it by the base, Jaemin reacting so sensitive made you excited. Your hands doing up and down motion, pointing finger tracing the slit on his pinkish tip.

"Fuck.. fuck baby, god." Jaemin couldn't help but groan deeply, urging you to move faster. Your movement all of a sudden halt, as Jaemin held your wrist, stopping you. "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that." His dark voice whispered.

"Already?" You smirked at him.

"You underestimate your effect on me, baby." Truly, you were the only person who could melt Jaemin into a puddle if you wanted to.

His hand balancing himself on top of you, as the other held his cock, lining himself onto your entrance.

"Ah.. ah, shit," You moaned, caused by the stretch. A slight tinge of pain but quickly replaced by a wave of intense pleasure as he deeply plunges until you take all of him.

"So.. so fucking tight, oh fuck." Jaemin waited for your signal to keep moving. Which you did, by lifting your hips up to create any sort of movement. He swiftly pull out, just to go in again.

"I love you," Jaemin cried from pleasure, his tempo slowly gaining speed.

"I love you so much," you replied, grabbing his face to look at you as he fucks you with intense affection.

"Y/n, y/n.. I love you." He repeated like a mantra, going in and out repeatedly. You can feel your insides creating a bubble-- soon going to pop. He examines all of your features, "Cum for me." He murmured.

You nodded in response, biting your lip, yet not losing eye contact. A sudden wave of pleasure struck, and before you knew it, you're shaking under him. "I.. I love you."

"I'm cumming, shi..." You locked your legs on his waist, as he stilled so deep, reaching levels of your insides no one has ever reachex before. He cums, deep inside you and you felt his warm, thick ropes of cum paint your insides. His body collapses on top of you, heavy breathing surrounded the apartment.

Honestly, Jaemin didn't care if you hurt him again, Heck, break him again and again. Run away if you can, but he would make sure that he'll be here, always waiting for you. Break his heart for all he cares. You'll only find yourself there.

"Let's go, baby. They can't wait to meet you." Jaemin smiled at you softly, opening the car door before letting you in.

"I really get the feeling that they hate me." You nervously said, as Jaemin went around the car and sat at the driver seat.

"They actually did, back then. But now they're a lot less dumber." You laughed at him.

This was the first time Jaemin will introduce you to his friends. Even tho you knew that they already know you from the past, you wanted to introduce your new self. The self thats much better.

As you arrived at their shared apartment, you can already hear the noise behind the door. You looked at Jaemin with anticipation, as he opened the door.

"There she is! Hi, y/n!" Haechan, which you have encountered before, greeted you with a big smile. He was approaching with wide arms, which Jaemin quickly swats away.

"No." Jaemin simply says as he put his arms around you and dragged you further in the house.

There, you saw Jeno and Renjun playing Jenga. As soon as you sat down, the tower had fallen. Renjun frowning, Jeno with a big smile.

"Oh hi, y/n. Renjun just lost in Jenga, again." The cocky grin was present in Jeno's face.

"That doesn't count! We should play again, this time with y/n!"

You were quiet, but not because you were uncomfortable, but because you were slowly digesting everything. You felt so belonged with these people that its felt a bit weird, in a good way.

You smiled at them, looking back at Jaemin who's walking towards you with a drink in hand. "Thirsty, baby?" His smile was enchanting, and so, so gorgeous.

The time goes on and it all felt natural. It was the first time you saw Jaemin laugh that much, and it made you happier than ever. Then and there, you have concluded that you will never hurt this man again. This time, you'll try to make this work, because you knew he was the only one for you.

And even if the gods and the heaven above curse you for loving selfishly, you wouldn't care. Jaemin is the perfect man for you. And you can't let that smile fade again.

"What're you thinking?" Jaemin whispered, above all the noise from his friends.

"I love you."

And if you thought Jaemin's smile couldn't get any bigger, it did.

"I love you." He answered.

This time, you'll get your happy ending. You choose your happiness and Jaemin. Forever, you will choose Jaemin. Because you realize that after everything, even fiction itself, got nothing on this man.

-end-

A/N: I know it took so long to publish but again, I'm a bit busy! But how was it?? I hope you liked the first installation of my series, diary of the heart breakers! Thank you so much.

taglist: @cutiepeas @legbouk@hyuckissed @bockhyun @hibernatinghamster@shookyungsoo@sundamariis@sharkipoonis@ohmykwonsoonyoung@carelessshootanonymous

next part >> Inevitably Yours

[doumadono]

Turbulent temptations - Choso x Reader

Warnings: smut - oral (f & m receiving, 69), doggy style, fingering, rough p in v, angst, f!Reader, boyfriend!Choso Synopsis: Choso and you engaged in a heated disagreement, culminating in an incredibly steamy moments

MASTERLIST

An atmosphere thick with tension hung in the air. Choso, the tall and muscular Death Painting Womb, stood before you, his piercing purple eyes ablaze with a mixture of anger and frustration. His jet-black hair was wild and unruly. He was a formidable presence, but tonight, he was more than intimidating.

You, a mere human, stood your ground, refusing to let him dictate your every move. His controlling tendencies had escalated to a breaking point, and tonight's argument was the culmination of weeks of mounting resentment. "You can't keep doing this, Choso," you said, your voice wavering but determined. "I won't let you control every aspect of my life. I need my independence."

Choso clenched his fists, his muscles tensing as he struggled to keep his temper in check. His lips curled into a snarl. "You don't understand, do you, my little weakling? I do it because I care about you. I'm trying to protect you from this cruel world."

You shook your head, your own temper flaring. "Protecting me is one thing, Choso, but suffocating me is another. I can't breathe in this relationship if you're always watching my every move."

Choso's face contorted in frustration. His cheeks flushed, contrasting sharply with his pale complexion. "I can't help it. It's in my nature. I've lost people I cared about, and I can't bear to lose you too."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step closer to him. "Choso, I love you, but love can't thrive in an environment of control and jealousy. We need to find a balance, or we'll destroy what we have!"

"Y/N, I won't give up on protecting you because that's the only way I can be sure you're safe. You should be grateful!"

"Shut the hell up, Choso! Fuck you!" You practically screamed the last two words and delivered a forceful punch to his chest.

He blinked and seized you by the throat, his stature towering over you. He had long surpassed you in size and strength. His hand closed around your delicate neck, and he tightened his grip, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as fear instantly flooded your eyes. "If you ever lay a hand on me like that again," Choso seethed, his voice dripping with anger, "I won't hesitate to put you in your place." With that, he released his grip on you, and you stumbled, collapsing to the floor.

He moved towards you with a slow, deliberate pace, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you retreated, you found yourself backing up past your couch, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I don't know what it is about you," Choso uttered in a hushed tone that sent a chill through your bones. "You're driving me insane." He closed the gap until he was just a few feet away, and you couldn't help but tremble.

You remained silent, a mix of emotions boiling within you. Your face grew flushed, your fists clenched at your sides, and your teeth ground together in frustration. Choso's predatory gaze roved over your body, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Anger surged through your mind, but your pussy ached, and in that moment, you despised yourself.

Finally, his eyes locked onto yours, and he advanced another step, a dark intensity in his gaze that made it clear he had no intention of letting you escape his grasp.

He grabbed your upper arms. His grip on you was a vice, a sudden and unyielding force that left you frozen in place. Choso's voice dripped with a chilling intensity as he snarled, his breath hot against your face, his eyes smoldering with a dangerous fire. "What are you gonna do?" The question hung in the air, heavy with an ominous promise. "I can take whatever I desire, whether you resist or not. So, what are you going to do? Scream? Fight me again? Beg for me to stop?"

Your defiance met his unyielding demeanor, and a silence thick with tension enveloped you both. You chose not to scream; words seemed futile in that charged moment. Instead, you defied his expectations and, with determination, rose onto your tiptoes, meeting his dangerous gaze. Without uttering a single word, you pressed your lips against his.

Choso's initial stillness and lack of response was deafening, a tension hanging in the air that was thicker than the darkest of clouds. But then, with a fierce intensity, he pulled you into a messy kiss that left your mind reeling.

Your thoughts raced as desire burned within you, an undeniable craving for him, an unspoken but unmistakable need that coursed through your veins. Your teeth grazed menacingly against his lower lip, sinking in for a harsh bite.

Choso's eyebrow shot up in shock, his grip on you loosening involuntarily.

Seizing the opportunity, you used your newfound freedom to forcefully shove him away. He stumbled backward and tumbled onto your couch, a mix of confusion and irritation flashing across his features. "The fuck…" Choso began, but you didn't let him finish.

With a predatory grace, you closed the distance between you, straddling his lap with an unmistakable air of dominance. The fabric of your skirt rode up your thighs, exposing a tantalizing expanse of skin against his robe.

You could feel his cock starting to harden beneath you, and you leaned forward, your lips almost against his as you stared straight at Choso. "Despite all of my anger and frustration, I still need you."

With a self-assured grin curling at the edges of his lips, Choso gently pushed you away, rising to his feet. He swiftly shed his clothes, and you mirrored his actions, discarding your own attire. The inexplicable rush of desire had taken you by surprise, and you couldn't help but wonder if his cursed powers were weaving their enchantment on your mind. Yet, at that moment, you couldn't find it in yourself to care - all you craved was Choso.

Your eyes drank in the sight before you.

He stood there fully naked, finally. Choso was facing you so you could see it all: his chest - strong and broad, his abs - perfectly toned, and his cock - thick and hard, precum dripping from the tip. He was the most handsome being you had ever seen in your life.

Soon, Choso was propped up on his elbows, looking at you, running the tip of his tongue along his upper lip; the head of his cock was nearly purple as his irises and the precum was literally dripping down his shaft - his excitement mirrored your own, unmistakable in his demeanor.

With a mischievous smile, you gracefully made your way onto the couch, letting your hair cascade around Choso's face as you descended to kiss him. His response was eager as he met your lips, and you allowed him to deepen the kiss, savoring the electric connection between you, before gently drawing back. "Let's find out if you can employ that tongue more effectively," you whispered, and with a swift movement, you were straddling his face.

Choso needed no further encouragement. Without hesitation, he dove into his task, sensually caressing your pussy with his tongue. Your reaction was immediate - a contented sigh escaping your lips as he expertly teased your cunt. As he continued, he gently sucked on your engorged clit, drawing a surprised moan from your lips. Unable to contain your desire, you began to move your hips back and forth, pressing your wet entrance against his eager mouth. Choso's skillful tongue danced along your slick folds, teasing the entrance to your throbbing core, ocassionally licking a long stripe along your slit. He lapped at your pussy like a starved man. Choso placed a few tiny kisses to your clitoris, eventually nudging the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. As your body responded with increasing fervor, he intensified his efforts, skillfully pleasuring your clit with his mouth. Waves of pleasure cascaded through your being, your fingers toying with your nipples as he lavished attention on your dripping pussy.

You shifted away from his face briefly, repositioning yourself to lean down and engage with his arousal. Afterward, you eased your wet pussy back onto his waiting mouth, and Choso responded eagerly, lavishing attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Simultaneously, you leaned closer to his hardened length, and with one dainty hand, you enveloped his throbbing shaft, commencing a leisurely and tantalizing rhythm of movement.

Choso groaned into your dripping cunt and the noise sent vibrations through your slick pussy. You moaned and stuck out your tongue, licking the precum off his tip. Choso's hips bucked as you did, and you licked up and down his shaft before finally taking him into your warm, welcoming mouth.

You could sense the mounting tension in the room as his deep, guttural groans resonated in the air. His hips subtly shifted, syncing with the rhythm of your movements as you pleasured him. Choso's commitment to your desires didn't waver, his attention unwavering as he devoured your cunt. But as you dared to take him deeper into your mouth, his reaction was palpable - his head tilted back, a primal sound escaping his throat as he drove his hips upwards, urging his hardness further into your welcoming throat. You gagged yourself around his cock, and found it impossible to stifle your emotions - tears streamed down your cheeks as you carefully bobbed your head, cupping his balls with your free palm, squeezing them slowly.

Choso let out a deep, sensuous moan as he spat on your slit. His intent was to ensure you were drenched, and he proceeded to resume his delicate attentions. With tantalizing tenderness, he showered your slit with gentle, kitten-like licks that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire being. He occasionally enveloped your soft, plump lips within the warm embrace of his mouth after sucking them in.

Soon, you withdrew your mouth from his throbbing dick, releasing it with a soft, satisfying pop sound. You gracefully moved away from Choso's face, letting the charged atmosphere linger in the room.

"I nearly forgot the exquisite sensations of human pleasures," Choso remarked, his voice laced with surprise.

He wasted no time at all. Choso gently encouraged you to recline on your side on the plush couch. His fingers traced a voluptuous path from your side, along your thigh, and ultimately, between your legs. His focus was unwavering, and he began to tease your slick folds. Choso, with a witching vehemence, urged you to circle your arm around his neck, causing you to partially turn your upper body towards him. As your eyes met, he lavished attention on your breasts, his lips finding their way to one of your sensitive nipples. Contemporaneously, his skilled fingers delved deep into your sopping cunt, kindling a conflagration of passion and pleasure that consumed you fully.

"Ch-Choso!" You couldn't help but whine his name.

His tongue gently traced circles around your sensitive bud, and he playfully nibbled at it. Choso's fingers moved in a rhythmic motion, thrusting in and out of your cunny, inching you close to the brink of an ecstatic release.

The sensations were already sending delightful shivers throughout your body, and your soft, enticing moans coupled with the rhythmic grinding of your hips against his skilled hand only fueled Choso's desire. As your bodies moved in harmony, his palm expertly pressed against your aroused clit, intensifying the sensations as you eagerly responded to his every touch.

You found yourself perched precariously on the precipice of ecstasy, your body quivering with anticipation. With each passing moment, the intensity of your desire grew, and you knew that you were on the brink of an earth-shattering climax. It was the final touch, the masterful stroke of Choso's hand against your swollen, throbbing clit, that sent you hurtling into a tidal wave of pleasure.

"Oh, Choso!!!" Your body convulsed, an intense orgasm surging through you like a tempest, causing your hips to buck uncontrollably against his skillful touch. In the throes of ecstasy, you couldn't help but cry out, your head arching backward in sheer pleasure. "Yes, yes, yes, fuck!"

As the waves of pleasure began to recede, you felt Choso's hand, now tender and gentle, delicately caressing your sensitive, slick folds. You were left panting, your senses still tingling from the electrifying experience.

His throbbing dick pressed firmly against your ass as Choso's lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Your bodies radiated heat, drawing you closer together. In a moment of desire, he deftly maneuvered, lifting your leg and guiding it over his hip. Choso continued to press against you, and as your lips locked in a sensual embrace, the tip of his dick found its way between your slick folds.

A soft moan escaped your lips, your voice barely able to contain the passion that surged through you. "Oh, Choso!"

With each movement, he explored your neck with his lips, savoring the taste of your skin, while the intensity of your connection deepened, creating a symphony of desire and pleasure between you.

He moved his hips with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm, rocking back and forth in a sensual dance of desire. Every motion he made was slow. With each thrust, he found an opportunity to run his tongue along the column of your neck, heightening the intensity of your passion while his fervor drove you to ecstasy.

"Harder, Choso, harder, please…" You were moaning.

Some time later, he withdrew, prompting you to shift your position. You settled on all fours, your ass end provocatively arched upward.

He approached from behind, the tip of his dick making contact with your slick entrance.

You could sense it, delicately seeking access to your tight, inviting cunt, and you reciprocated by sensually wriggling back against him.

His shaft glided smoothly into your drenched haven, and he inched in gradually, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he felt your warmth envelop him. "Fuck."

A sensual moan escaped your lips as you felt him filling you completely, his pulsating, rigid length nestled deep within your core.

"Oh, Y/N," he gasped, his voice laden with desire. Choso's strong hands gripped your hips, initiating a slow, tantalizing rhythm, guiding you back and forth onto his throbbing cock. However, this leisurely pace didn't persist for long. He skillfully maneuvered one hand around your form, cupping your breasts, while his other hand found its way to your sensitive clit. With fervor, he began to thrust into you with an intensity that left you both breathless and consumed by passion.

"Ammmmpppp- fuck!" You groaned, pressing your head to the armrest.

He let out a deep, primal wail, and your breath caught as he passionately fucked you. The rhythmic sound of his balls slapping against your plush ass reverberated in the air, creating an intoxicating symphony. His every thrust found that sweet, sensitive spot within you, igniting waves of pleasure as the tip of his dick massaged that spongy place. Simultaneously, his skilled fingers danced over your sensitive clitoris, sending electric pulses of ecstasy through your body, while his teasing grip on your hardened nipples pushed you ever closer to a euphoric bliss.

"So good and so tight, fuck, Y/N, fuck," Choso moaned behind you, his head roled back a little. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum."

In an instant, Choso quivered with intensity, delivering one last powerful thrust into the depths of your wetness. The force of his movement was so overwhelming that it caused you to lose your balance, making you stagger forward. At that very moment, you could feel the scorching heat of his hot seed spurt into your cunt, filling you completely. It was this ecstatic rush that tipped you over the edge, igniting a second climax that surpassed the first in its sheer intensity.

Your inner muscles clenched tightly around Choso's remarkable length, coaxing out every last drop of his cum, which surged forth, spilling into your longing cunt. The sheer elatedness of the moment left you both gasping, lost in the intoxicating throes of passion.

After an exhilarating encounter, the two of you found yourselves on the couch, both panting heavily. You reclined on your back, the rise and fall of your chest mirroring your deep, labored breaths. Choso, his own breath ragged, turned over and nestled his head gently against your bosom, seeking solace in the tender connection you shared.

"You're fucking amazing," he stated. "I believe I should encourage you to engage in more argments with me," he quipped, a playful glint in his eye. "You're becoming incredibly passionate afterward, my sweet Y/N."

Tagging: @roast-toast @bestliarr

[artdcnaldson]

In part 2 you mentioned Patrick x reader having makeup sex after they got into stupid argument…. Can we get a flashback to one of those moments🤭🤭 domestic Patrick starting an argument with reader and reader calling him out about it but they end up making up in a cute way. Like Patrick making it up in a corny but cute way??? Just a suggestion, part 2 was amazing btw!

Rating: T

Warnings: just a minor argument, language ofc

A/N: thank youuuu!!! No smut in this little blurb, just a snapshot of domestic Patrick x reader in the changeover au 🫶🫶🫶

Also working on art x reader first time and also Patrick x reader first I love you blurbs for the changeover au :) so those will be coming sooooon

It was easy to let the stupid arguments devolve. It started with a facial expression when you brought up your college roommate’s wedding. An eye roll, an I-don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-that. And that became your, “why do you treat my friends and my life as less important?”

“I can’t fucking believe you got that out of me wanting to ditch Katie’s wedding to her dickhead loser fiancé.” Patrick’s words came out so flippant that it infuriated you further. “You don’t even talk to her outside of Facebook comments.”

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I didn’t realize that you’d be so fucking opposed to free food and booze considering you live off of it.”

Patrick set his jaw, glaring at you. It was a low blow, one you knew would sting. “I’m opposed to wasting my time flying out to bum fuck Iowa to because Katie— who has always hated me, by the way— is marrying some dickhead who’s a shill for a corrupt asshole in congress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she would like you, Patrick, if you ever put in an ounce of effort with anyone besides me.”

“Right, because I need to be friends with the kind of people whose proposal was a flash mob.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right, because you’re just too cool for stuff like that.”

It was so fucking like him— making fun of the lame proposals your friends got, or their baby names, or their engagement shoots. Sometimes they were lame— flash mobs were fucking stupid— but sometimes they were sweet, and romantic, and there was Patrick acting like he’d rather blow his brains out than ever publicly admit he cared.

“Yeah, I am.” He said back.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Whatever, Patrick. I’ll RSVP for one, again, and you can bum around my apartment alone.”

You had slammed the bedroom door before he could respond, which left him alone and seething in the living room.

You heard the front door open, then slam shut, signaling that Patrick was going out for a smoke, or a walk, or something.

You opened Facebook and scrolled through your feed. Katie’s engagement photos, a coworker’s new baby, a college friend’s bachelorette weekend. And there you were, fighting so your boyfriend would finally be your plus one to something.

It wasn’t always his fault— he had tournaments, and commitments. But a lot of the time, it was an active dismissal of things you found important— engagement parties, friends visiting the city, the increasingly common baby shower.

You didn’t blame him. Adult stuff sucked, and it was almost always boring and agonizingly slow. But you just wanted him to show up with you for things that were big.

It would be stupid to break up over Katie, who you genuinely weren’t even that close to. She’d been a decent friend Freshman year, you supposed, but that was the extent of it. The invitation to the wedding was probably a formality.

All you wanted was an excuse to show off your super hot, super cool boyfriend. To get tipsy over free booze, then leave the wedding early to fuck in the shitty Best Western hotel room that wedding guests would get a discount rate on.

A few hours later, the front door opened, and you sat up against the headboard, waiting eagerly to see if he’d be the first to break, or if you would.

You heard four gentle knocks against the door, saw Patrick’s sneakers beneath the door. “You can come in,” you said softly.

Patrick slipped into the room and joined you on the bed. He kept space between you, just in case you were still mad, but met your gaze with the sad eyes of a kicked puppy.

“I bought a suit,” was all he said. “And I tried to buy you a huge bouquet of flowers since I was a dickhead, but my card declined since I just bought the suit, so…”

His hand was resting on the empty expanse of mismatched bedsheets between you. You moved your hand into his, tangling your fingers together. “You bought a suit, huh?”

He nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “I’ll stop being a dick about Katie’s wedding.” He paused, turning away from your gaze. “I think… I’m away so much that when I’m home, I just want it to be me and you.”

You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “I just want to show you off to everyone I know,” you said lightly. Your forehead stayed pressed to his, and you relished in the closeness. “I don’t give a fuck about Katie or her ugly loser fiancé’s stupid wedding.”

Patrick grinned. “Oh? So you just want a hot, professional athlete to be your arm candy, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always cheapening the moment.” You leaned forward kissing him sweetly, which always seemed to devolve into a hungry mess of tongues and spit when Patrick was involved.

“Wait—“ you said suddenly, right as Patrick began peeling off your top. “You said your fucking card declined? You drained your bank account for this stupid wedding?”

He paused, his hands warm on your bare skin. “Uh… it felt like a grand gesture kind of moment.” You leaned in and kissed him, pulling your shirt off the rest of the way.

Not smutty but I neeeeeeeded to write some domestic Patrick x reader 😁🫶 my pookies my babies my loves