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#they had everything they had things I haven’t seen in YEARS
gay-dorito-dust · 1 day
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Hii i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but if you areeee
Can you write smth about Ford x reader where they obviously got a crush on each other (but they dont confess they’re shyly dumb) but the crush got bigger bc reader decides to peck Ford on the cheek as a “Thank you” bc he helped them with smth, yanno yanno :33
Ps: I really really love your writing waaa keep up the good work!!
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The crush you harbour on Ford and him on you was the least subtle thing ever, everyone could see the way you looked at each other as though the other hung the stars in the sky; you were both smitten kittens but were too scared to admit it for one reason or another.
You didn’t know when exactly you started having a crush on Ford, you merely assumed that was always the case ever since you met the man with the beautiful brown eyes, and you were perfectly content with that but what you weren’t content with was how everyone wanted you to confess.
‘He doesn’t like me like that, I’m not sure he likes anyone within a romantic aspect.’ You’d use as your excuse whenever anyone brings up the fact that you had yet to bear your heart to Ford.
‘Then you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.’ They’d respond and you could only look at them as though they’ve grown a second head. However they spoke the truth as Ford was equally as infatuated with you and would find himself pushing back the work he didn’t think required all his attention, all in favour of spending time with you whether it be star gazing or anomaly hunting.
Ford couldn’t remember the last time he felt light on his feet, head in the clouds and as though he was thirty years younger then he actually was and it was all thanks to you. While he wants to confess he found himself unable to do so when he looked into your eyes and found everything he could ever wish for within them; only to end up speechless as your eyes flickered with multiple emotions at once as he remained stood still as a statue, staring at you with a fondness within his eyes as you spoke random things to fill the silence.
This half attempts to confess -or lack there of an attempt- was enough to annoy the people close to you both as Stanley wants to put his head through a wall, Dipper vowed to himself to never be this bad and Mabel was on the verge of screaming at you both to kiss and get it over with at this point; the slow burn was killing her with how hesitant or chocked up you both become in each others presence.
They just wanted you two to cut the bullshit and start being a couple, solely just to make up for the months they’ve all have to suffer from seeing you both obviously pine for one another.
So currently you and Ford were looking for a so called ‘flying pig that may or may not be waddles parent or ancestor’ as Mabel had said to you both that very morning. So when Ford asked dipper if this was true, you swore you’ve never seen a boy sweat as much as Dipper did when he tried his hardest to convince you both that such a creature exists within the woods; you and Ford shared a look that spoke your unwillingness to believe, before agreeing to go out and look for this flying pig that may or may not be waddles’s ancestor.
‘Even if this flying pig is waddles’s ancestor, wouldn’t waddles also have wings by that logic?’ You asked.
‘Not necessarily my dear as the wings could be a hereditary trait that can skip multiple generations and appear in someone later down the line.’ Ford replied as he pushed up his glasses that were slipping down his nose, ‘however even I have to admit that this flying pig phenomena being real is slim to none despite everything else we’ve encountered here.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Then the billboard should read as this: Gravity falls, we’ve got everything to satisfy a diehard supernatural fanatic, just no flying pigs.’ You said in a goofy voice as you playfully nudge Ford in the side as he smiled softly, looking at you and feeling his heart become full; but before he could say anything a demonic squeal echoed throughout the forest causing you both to stop just as the birds stopped chirping.
Ford instinctively stood in front of you protectively as you tried to deduct where the blood curdling squeal came from. ‘What was that?’ You whispered my resting your chin on Ford’s shoulder as he reached for the gun at his hip upon instinct.
‘No clue dearest but I believe we might’ve found our anomaly.’ Ford replied lowly for only you to hear, only for the sound of wings beating filled your ears as a plump silhouette of a winged creature could be seen from a distance. You couldn’t help stop yourself from commenting ‘that could be a thousand things before it could be a flying pig-‘ just before you could finish the sentence the plump silhouette must’ve spotted you as it started flying towards you both at high speed; it was downright frighting.
‘FLYING PIG!’ You screamed the moment the figure got close enough to identify as both yourself and Ford ran began to run away from it as fast as your legs could carry you. ‘And here I thought Mabel had eating too much of that edible glitter and hallucinated.’ You added as Ford quickly took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled you with him to hide behind a random tree, pulling you in close to his chest where you could hear his heart against your ear.
The demonic flying pig flew past you and it was them did you notice how massive those wings were for a creature that was of the same size of an average adult pig, but still it was scary to see a pig with teeth as sharp as razors; what was even more scary was the fact that pigs would eat anything and everything. You cuddled up closer to Ford instinctively as he held you close in order to comfort you. ‘It’s okay my dear, it’s gone now.’ He whispered against your head, kissing it as his hands rubbed up and down your back. ‘It must’ve gotten mad that we were within its territory and felt the need to scare us off.’
‘Well consider this officially scared off.’ You muttered against his turtlenecks finding the honest comfort and protection within his scent as you allowed it to invade your senses.
‘We’ll go back home and forget that we were almost flying pig food and watch some movies while drinking hot chocolate. How does that sound my dear?’ Ford asked and before his brain could comprehend what had happened, you had kissed his cheek and Ford felt his cheeks blossom with heat and his eyes widened.
‘That sounds perfect as long as I’m with you to do all of that of course.’ You replied softly as you looked at Ford with a soft, almost pleading expression and Ford felt his resolve crumble to dust as he averts his gaze from you.
‘I would love nothing more my dear.’ He admits and you were quick to clutch his hand in yours and drag him from your hiding place and begin your walk back to the shack, all the while keeping your wits about you in regards to one flying demon pig. ‘Then it’s a date!’ You exclaimed as you could hear Ford choke on nothing behind you, which only made you smile.
You’ll tell Mabel that you didn’t see a flying pig, but got a date out of trying to make up for the disappointment.
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*points at what you said in Sunny’s ask about hair stuff (which are all wonderful and yes) and Wars bleaching and straightening his hair*
Silly or Hero-warship previous mostly blond heroes gotta look the part perfect soldier image peer pressure whatever? (Basically, silly little guy or sads?) (My brain immediately went to this but it kinda falls apart with some of the others in the chain having different hair colors (which, again awesome, curly hair Rulie and Wind my beloveds) but thought why not ask anyways)
Taking this as a Yap opportunity because it’s been so long since people have sent in asks about my Wars headcanons and I feel like I haven’t gotten to talk about this in a while >:) SO THANK YOU FOR THIS
edit: apologies if theres any spelling mistakes im dyslexic but also just an idiot
So I hc Wars came from a very small village on the outskirts of the kingdom and when he got to Castletown and joined the army things were very different, HE was very different. He didn’t feel like he fit in with them, so he tried his best to force himself to fit in which is why I hc he does a fake accent, a Castletown/British one so people assume he comes from there. The way people view him is very important to him because he worries if they don’t see him through the carefully crafted lens he’s set up for himself to be viewed through, people will not like him or they won’t think he’s worthy or they’ll think he’s pathetic and he can’t handle that. So everything about how he’s constructed and built himself, from his hair to his accent to his walk to his laugh, his smile, voice, posture, all of it is carefully and deliberately crafted so that his image and how he presents himself is consistent, reliable, and “hero worthy”
Him straightening and dyeing his hair was 100% because he saw the heroes of legend and realized he didn’t look like them. I hc the Hero of Time was a huge figure, and one of the most noted heroes in Wars’s era, so little Wars compared himself to that a LOT. (and I also hc he never knew Mask was the Hero of Time because the kid called himself the Hero of Masks because HE didn’t think he could live up to his own title.) He thought if he looked more like what the people of Hyrule envision the great hero to look like in their minds, he’d be taken much more seriously
Of course now, seven years after the war, after he’s had a lot of time to come to terms with things and start to heal, Warriors doesn’t feel the need to look like the other heroes in order to be worthy, and he realizes this before he even meets the others. But NOW he’s stuck because he hasn’t felt like himself or like he KNEW himself at all since he was like 14/15, and he’s nearly 28 now and after over a decade of being in the army or “Hero of Warriors”, he doesn’t really know HOW to be him. He’s not yet at a point where he can fully realize the only thing that’s going to make him happy is becoming himself again, he knows he feels more relaxed when he feels safe but hes not really aware of how much his guard drops and how his act disappears when he’s completely at peace. He feels like he needs to keep playing this character of himself he’s made, and that includes keeping up appearances
He’s getting better about relaxing how strict he is with himself, he’ll allow himself lazy mornings where he doesn’t straighten his hair or do his makeup, but he almost obsessively dyes his hair and that’s the last thing he’ll stop doing, because I hc he looks VERY much like his mother and where he’s at right now, he couldn’t handle seeing that. (I hc his mother is alive, and so are all the sisters i hc he has, and they haven’t seen him since he left all those years ago because he feels like he CANNOT go back because hes so different now and he cannot handle the idea that home wouldnt feel like home anymore because he’s become a monster at war and he wont belong there anymore. He still writes home, and keeps in contact, and he’s seen Linkle (his twin), but he can’t bring himself to see his mother in his own face or just go home until he relearns who he actually is)
*wet cough* sorry for the yap 🥺 i have a lot of thoughts and he’s my special guy and this is how I characterize him in my writing (unless its an au or a specific other thing) so i think about him a LOT
if anyone is interested in this characterization of him heres a link to my main Wars series:
*collapses and dies*
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kooktrash · 7 months
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lost & found | jeon jungkook
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summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot
➣18.7k words
warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end
song inspo: bff — jesse
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As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.
You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.
Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?
There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.
”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“
”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.
“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”
”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.
He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.
“Y/n.”
Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.
“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,
Jeon Jungkook.
Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.
Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.
”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.
“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.
”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.
You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”
“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”
“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.
“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.
It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”
Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.
You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.
“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.
“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.
Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”
“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.
“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”
“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”
“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.
“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.
“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”
“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”
“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“
“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”
Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”
Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”
He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.
“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”
“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”
“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.
“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”
Before he broke up with your best friend.
“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”
“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”
You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.
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Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.
In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.
Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.
It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…
Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.
It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.
One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.
They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.
When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.
You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.
She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.
So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.
You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.
It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.
They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.
That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.
You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.
The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.
“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.”
“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”
You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.
“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.
“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”
Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.
yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?
you: idk, if I’m free
yoongi: … ur always free🤒
yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want
you: but is he ok with me going
yoongi: y wouldn’t he be
yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come
you: okkkkkk 🥹
“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.
Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”
“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”
“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.
“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“
“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.
“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”
Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”
Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.
He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.
He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.
You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.
Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.
With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.
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When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.
“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.
“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”
“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”
“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.
“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.
“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”
You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?
Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”
“Why didn’t you ask me first?”
“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”
After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.
“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”
“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.
��Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”
“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.
“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.
“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.
“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.
He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.
“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.
Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”
“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.
“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”
You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”
He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”
“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.
“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”
“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”
That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”
“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.
“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.
“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”
“I thought you were having a good ti—“
“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”
“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”
“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…
“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”
“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”
“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”
“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”
She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”
He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”
He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.
“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.
“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”
“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”
Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”
The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.
“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.
“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”
Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent
“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“
“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”
“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”
“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.
“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“
“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”
“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”
“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.
Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”
Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“
“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”
“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”
With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”
The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”
You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.
Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.
“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”
“Take me back to the party please.”
Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.
Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.
“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”
“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”
He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”
You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.
What did you expect coming back?
What does this prove?
You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.
“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.
Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.
In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?
God, you felt like an idiot.
“Y/n?”
Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.
“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.
“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.
You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”
“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.
Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.
“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.
“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”
“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”
“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.
“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”
A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”
“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.
Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.
He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.
When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.
“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.
“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.
He could not just go for it.
Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…
He could be dreaming it up.
Would you want him to?
No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.
You do not want him.
“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“
It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.
“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.
To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.
At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.
“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”
You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?
What was really stopping you?
Nothing.
The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.
Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.
He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.
Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.
You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.
His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.
“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.
Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.
They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.
He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.
You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.
When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.
He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.
You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.
At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.
You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.
“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”
“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”
“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.
His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.
His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.
Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.
His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.
“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.
“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.
“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”
“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”
“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.
Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.
It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.
“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”
“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”
“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”
Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”
He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.
Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”
You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.
Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”
His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”
You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”
Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.
The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.
As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”
All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.
You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.
“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”
He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.
You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”
“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.
Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?
Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”
“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”
“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”
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The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.
“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.
“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.
miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳
miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?
miyoung: r u alive
miyoung: helloooooooo
A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.
God, what did you do?
“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”
“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?
He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.
“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”
You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?
Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.
In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”
“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”
You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.
You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.
Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.
“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.
“What?”
“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”
“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”
He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”
“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Technically.
Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?
“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”
Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”
“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.
It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.
“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.
“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.
“Don’t worry, I got you.”
In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.
“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”
“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”
“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”
“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”
With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.
“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.
If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.
When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.
Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”
He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.
The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.
“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“
“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”
“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.
He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”
“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.
“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”
“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.
“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?
Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.
Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.
You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…
He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…
Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?
Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.
You always do as told without questioning it.
“You broke up with her.”
He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”
“Tell me,” you urged him on.
“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”
Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“
“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”
“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“
“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”
“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”
“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”
“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”
“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.
He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”
Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.
What did he mean that he liked you first?
Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?
You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?
Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?
“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”
Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.
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“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”
Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?
And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.
Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.
“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.
“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.
“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”
“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”
With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”
“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”
“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“
“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”
Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.
“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”
You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.
“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”
Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.
“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.
“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”
“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.
“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.
“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.
Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”
“Bu—“
“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”
Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.
Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.
It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.
“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.
“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”
“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”
Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.
Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”
“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”
“Y/n.”
He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.
As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”
“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.
You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.
And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?
“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”
“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?
He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?
“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.
You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”
For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?
“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”
“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”
“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”
You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”
“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”
“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”
He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.
“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“
“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”
The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”
You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”
He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”
“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”
“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”
“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”
“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“
“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”
His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”
It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.
When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.
Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.
Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.
It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.
Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.
At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.
Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.
If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.
“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.
“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.
“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.
It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.
“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”
You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”
Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”
“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.
“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.
You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”
“I said because we’re together.”
You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”
“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.
“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.
You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”
The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”
“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.
Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”
“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.
“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”
You whined, “Jung—“
“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.
“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”
“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.
“Y/n?”
You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.
“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.
“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.
“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.
It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”
Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.
“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”
Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”
This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”
“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”
Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.
“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.
“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”
Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.
“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.
He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”
“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”
It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.
“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”
Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.
“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.
“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.
“Then take it off me.”
“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”
You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”
“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.
You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?
He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.
You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”
“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”
“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.
“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”
“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.
“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”
::.
NO PART TWO
oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately
please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]
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thelostconsultant · 26 days
Text
Puppy love
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: During his karting days, you were one of his opponents, but outside the track he was just a stupid boy who fell in love with a pretty girl. Now, after all those years, you meet again in the paddock, and he doesn't want you to leave.
note: Yes, Jos is an asshole in this (too).
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“Have you seen who jumped in to do the interviews?” Charles asked with a wicked smile when he stopped next to his rival after the race. Max hadn’t really paid attention to these details until now, but now that he was informed there was something he should probably know, he looked around to see where the reporter was. “I haven’t talked to her since your dad ruined her career. But she seems truly happy now.”
That’s when his eyes fell on you, the girl who had been haunting him in his dreams for long years, the one who was glowing while talking to the cameraman. He wanted to object, he wanted to say “my dad didn’t ruin her career, she just decided to quit,” but the way you had left certainly hinted at a possible connection between the two events. Because his father’s outburst took place a week before he found out you weren’t coming back to race, and you didn’t even try to contact him ever again. 
What made it real hard was the fact he knew you were left heartbroken, and it wasn’t racing that you missed. His mother called your parents to ask them about you, and they said you had been crying in your room for days, but when the option for a call from Max came up, they were quick to shut it down. They said it would be easier for you to move on if he didn’t show up in your life again, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for everything that happened. 
If he hadn’t fallen in love with you, if he hadn’t met you on a vacation, if his father hadn’t found out he loved someone, maybe you would still be racing. He remembered your bright smile that was present even after a tough race, and your good mood that was often highly contagious. The boys you raced against loved you dearly, mostly because you brought a different energy into their little boys’ club.
“Max, you’re next,” he was told all of a sudden. 
He wasn't ready to face you, but there was no escape. What he had to do now was force a smile on his face and act like he was talking to someone else, someone whose presence didn't affect him half as much as yours did. But the moment he stopped in front of you and noticed a strange glint in your eyes, he had to focus on breathing in and out while you asked your first question.
After the camera was turned off, he cautiously watched you to see if you were planning to approach him, or if you seemed open to the possibility of him doing that. When you looked at him with a smile and said goodbye to the cameraman, he walked over to you with his hand folded behind his back.
“It's nice to see you here,” he said with a small, cautious smile. You nodded, but Max could see behind the cheerful look on your face, he could tell you were tense. “If I'm bothering you, just say it.”
You took a deep breath, and soon your smile changed, and it was now showing a lot more sadness. “It's been a while, that's all. Talking to you in person brings back different memories,” you admitted.
“Good or bad ones?”
Following a shrug, you folded your arms over your chest and looked down at your shoes. “Compared to the ones that come back when I see you or Charles on TV? Bad,” you finally replied. 
Max gulped upon hearing this, feeling guilty despite knowing he had done nothing wrong, that whatever happened back in the day was the result of a series of decisions made by your parents. If it was up to him, he would have kept in touch with you, doing his best to see where this puppy love would lead the two of you. Maybe you would have broken up after he got into F1, maybe you would be married by now. It was a question he had no answer to.
The best he could do now was trying to make you understand this, making you see that he wanted to fix things now, even if you would be nothing more than friends. Sure, he had no idea how much you had changed over the years, but he knew there was only one way to find out. “I know it means very little after all these years, but I’m sorry,” he said to break the deafening silence.
You nodded, then to his surprise, took a step closer to him. “I know it wasn’t your fault. My parents told me what happened exactly eventually.”
He watched you closely, trying to figure out if you were interested in a proper conversation, maybe later in private. But before he could speak up, Charles walked over to the two of you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder with a big smile on his face. “It’s been so long,” he said happily, earning a shy smile and a barely visible shake of your head from you.
Max bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed by the sudden appearance of the Ferrari driver, but the main problem was a vivid memory from his childhood. While him and Charles had gone for blood on the track and didn’t have the best relationship off it either, you and the Monegasque were on very good terms, with you even visiting him and his family in his home. It didn’t bother him until his brain finally caught up with his feelings and he realized he had a crush on you, because then he felt intense jealousy every time his rival laid a finger on you, even if it was nothing more than a friendly pat on the shoulder.
You then suddenly moved to give him a hug, and seeing the way Charles wrapped his arms around you made his blood boil, even if he knew deep down that he had no right to be jealous. But it was painfully obvious that the two of you were talking to each other, keeping your voices down as much as you could in the noise around you, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was all about.
Then he finally let go of you and said goodbye, although the two of you agreed to have dinner in Italy next week to catch up. Max took a deep breath and thought about what to say, but before he could come up with anything, an official came over to drag him to the cooldown room, so all he could do was apologize and say goodbye, wishing he could see you again next week. According to Charles you were supposed to be there in Monza, which meant he would have the chance to talk to you.
To properly talk to you and possibly find out more about your life after you quit racing.
He knew in the cooldown room they were supposed to talk about the race, but all he could think about was asking Charles what you talked about, what was so secretive that no one else could hear it? So, in the end he didn’t say much, he just watched the recap of the race and discussed what he saw if it was standing out. Even while standing on the podium, his eyes scanned the crowd under them, trying to find you as if he was playing Where’s Wally?
On the way home, he spent his time browsing your social media accounts, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had never checked them. On X, you were posting about F1 news, commenting on them as a journalist, while on Instagram you focused on sharing more personal posts, like photos of your holiday, your hobbies, or yourself in the paddock. There had been so many of those, how come he hadn’t met you before?
Having a glimpse into your life felt so nice that he hadn’t realized he had scrolled back a few years. Well, not until it turned out he accidentally liked a few of your old photos. If you hadn’t seen the notifications, he wouldn’t have noticed that. But you saw them and weren’t shy to send him a DM about it.
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The next few days passed with him regularly checking his DMs to see if you wrote to him again, if you changed your mind and decided to have dinner with him, but there was nothing, so he was forced to wait for the perfect opportunity to talk to you in the paddock in Italy. How he would find you in the flurry of people was a mystery, although he had a fleeting idea that maybe their PR team could help him get a hold of you. Not like that could work, a request like this would certainly give them a stroke, assuming he was planning to give a random interview.
His heart skipped a beat when he noticed you at the press conference, talking to some of the drivers behind the cameras. Your eyes were shining brightly, your smile lit up the room around you, and Max felt like he had been taken back to his childhood when all the boys at their karting races swarmed around you to get a scrap of your attention. But those were hormone-driven teenagers, while these guys were grown men, many of them in serious relationships, so he knew it wasn’t entirely the same situation.
This time Max made sure he could stick around after the interviews, hoping to get a hold of you once you were done. He approached you after everyone left and you decided to chat with someone from the crew. He cleared his throat nervously, subconsciously expecting you to yell at him, to tell him to leave you alone. But your poker face was perfect, because you turned to him with a kind smile and acted like you were ready to have a pleasant chat with him. The crew member left you alone, so only the two of you were left there. 
“You either don’t understand the word no, or you just learned to completely ignore it because you always get what you want,” you said with a sigh, the smile long gone by now. 
He let the last part of the comment go past his ear, instead he just took a deep breath and began to massage the back of his neck. “Can’t we have a pleasant conversation? Just put everything aside, forget about our shared past, and let’s treat this as a chance for a fresh start.”
You watched him with a thoughtful hum for a while, then nodded. “All right. What would you like to talk about?” you asked with a curious look in your eyes. 
“Us.”
“There’s no such thing as us.”
“Too bad, because that’s exactly what I want,” he was quick to inform you, mentally kicking himself for being this straightforward, even if it was true. Because he wanted to see if you would be interested in the 2.0 version of your relationship, the chance to see how your young love would work out in your adult lives. “Are you seeing anyone?”
For a moment you hesitated, but then you shook your head. “No. I don’t really have the time for that,” you replied honestly. Before Max could speak up again, though, you began to talk once more. “But I’m a reporter here, dating a driver would be… unethical. I can’t play favorites,” you explained. 
Max took a quick look around, then gently placed a hand on your cheek. “We can figure that out later. Let’s focus on step one, which is going on a first date. Tonight? We can turn to room service to help us out if you don’t want to meet somewhere public,” he told you. 
“So you want me all to yourself in your hotel room?” you asked with a teasing smile. 
He was sure as hell he blushed, because the idea of what you were suggesting hadn’t occurred to him. Having you alone in his hotel room wasn’t something he consciously planned out, he only wanted to meet you somewhere away from the curious eyes. “It’s not like that,” he told you defensively. 
“I know, don’t worry. Send me the when and where,” you said as you patted his shoulder. “See you later, Max.”
Nodding, he watched as you walked away from him. He didn’t say a word–no, he couldn’t say a word. His brain was too busy replaying the way his name rolled off your tongue, that sweet, soft tone of your voice as you said goodbye. With his mind still lost in a pink haze, he returned to their motorhome to gather his things and call it a day. He couldn’t wait to meet you, that was all he could focus on. 
A few hours later he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his foot nervously tapping on the floor while he waited. You could be here any minute, and waiting was the worst part. Well, maybe the conversation wouldn’t be that much better, but he could still hope for the best. So when half an hour later there was a knock on his door, his lips curled into a wide smile and he rushed over there to let you in. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was held up in the media center,” you apologized the moment the door closed behind you. 
Max had to take a deep breath to calm himself. You being close to him again brought back feelings he thought he had long forgotten, and he wanted to give you a kiss, a soft kiss to test the waters with you. But he had to behave, he had no idea where the two of you were standing right now. “It’s okay, don’t worry. So, dinner?” he asked after a short break, giving you a smile. 
Food seemed to get you in the mood to chat, because as the two of you enjoyed the various dishes he ordered, you started to tell him about your life after everything that had happened back then. You finished high school like a normal kid, went to college to study journalism, and you managed to get jobs at various places that were related to motorsports, especially F1. That was your dream, to once work with this world, but you were quick to clarify knowing he made it here didn’t give you the idea. 
He tried to hide the cocky smirk that wanted to show up on his face, because he was sure what you said weren’t true. A voice in the back of his mind told him you wanted to see him again, that you wanted to get back what had been taken from the two of you all those years ago. After all, why wouldn’t he think that? It didn’t take much convincing to get you to meet him tonight. And if he was delusional? At least it was a nice thought. 
It was then his turn to talk, so he told you stories that you had probably never heard, about himself, about the grid, about everything, really. If you asked questions about his family, you focused on his sister and mother, but you were mostly interested in his cats and hobbies. As you told him, you couldn’t understand how he ended up being such a cat dad, but it certainly suited him. 
“Charles said he doesn’t get murderous thoughts about you several times a day lately,” you suddenly noted with a short laugh. 
Clearing his throat, Max tilted his head to the side. “You talked to him?” he asked casually. 
You nodded and took another bite of your pasta. “Yeah, we had dinner yesterday. I remember how the two of you were back then, I was wondering what the situation was now,” you said with a shrug. 
A wide grin crept on his face upon hearing this. “So you asked him about me.”
“It was just one question, don’t get too cocky,” you pointed out with a roll of your eyes. “But I’m glad you kinda get along now. It’s nice to see that.”
Max flashed a smile at you, then returned his attention to his dinner. For a while you both ate in silence, but then you got rid of the plates and he found himself wondering what to do next. So he just looked down at his hand and moved it closer to yours, letting his little finger brush against yours as if you were back in your teenage years. You let out a laugh when you noticed, and you looked at him with a kind smile. You weren’t as cold as you had been earlier today, now you seemed to have warmed up to him, ready to give him a chance to show you what he wanted. 
So, he took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss you, cautiously moving his lips against yours to make sure he didn’t scare you away. It took you a few seconds, but you eventually eased into the kiss, one of your hands even moving up to his face to keep him close. He couldn’t hold back a quiet chuckle that drew a questioning hum out of you. Max shook his head, then he dived in to kiss you again, but at the same time he let his hand wander under your shirt, even though he could have expected what happened next. 
Because you pulled away and pushed his hand away from your body. “Stop, don’t… I shouldn’t even be here, I should just go, and–”
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do this, don’t push me away. I’m sorry. If you want to slow down, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do, okay?” he asked you, his voice desperate. For a minute or two you remained completely silent, you were just watching him with doe eyes, as if you were trying to process what just happened. “Please, just stay,” he said quietly.
You hesitantly took his hand and gulped loudly as you gathered your thoughts. “Listen, it’s complicated. I already told you, I shouldn’t date drivers, but,” you began, but fell silent without finishing the sentence. 
Max cupped your face and rested his forehead against yours. “One step at a time, all right? We’ll figure out if this could even work between us, then we’ll decide how to move on,” he said with a soft smile. When you nodded, he kissed your nose. “Good. Do you want to stay with me and cuddle a little, or would you rather go?”
“We just cuddle, right?” you asked with a thin voice. When he nodded, you let out a soft sigh. “Okay, just for a little while, then I’ll leave.”
But you didn’t leave. The next morning he woke up to you sleeping soundly with your head on his chest, snoring softly while you were lost in your dream world. Max couldn’t stop grinning, he was way too excited and happy to keep a straight face. It felt so nice, so natural, that he wondered how long you would be against it. You clearly wanted this as much as he did, but if you needed time, he was willing to give it to you.
As you lay there, he remembered that vacation all those years ago, when your parents not-so-accidentally bumped into his mom. His first date in a local cinema, watching a movie that was dubbed and neither of you could fully understand it. His first kiss in that movie theater with a girl that was special enough to catch his attention. The way you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder one night when your parents talked a little too long in a restaurant on the beach. 
And he was hell-bent on going back to that town to experience everything again as adults. All he needed was you softening enough to let him take care of you in front of the whole world.
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highvern · 2 months
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When in Rome
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader
Genre: fluff, smut, angst
warnings: alcohol consumption, cheating, nudity, mentions of drug use, explicit sexual acts (unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral, swallowing)
Length: ~24k
Note: excited to have this for the @svthub world tour collab! thank u to @gyuswhore for helping, @wonuvs for fact checking my shitty italian, @the-boy-meets-evil for making sure i actually finished this fic bc i live to torture her and everyone else who contributed to this over the months it took me to finally write it!
this is from cheol's pov which was a new challenge but i loved it (i will never do it again). i'll be out of town when this goes up but can't wait to read everyone's feed back!!!
Summary: After months of no contact, Seungcheol isn't sure what to expect when he sees you again at Jeonghan's wedding. He's prepared to apologize, to grovel, to bear the weight of a cold shoulder. Whatever it takes to have you back, his best friend since diapers; or whatever will ensure the last third of your trio has the best day of his life. But when he overhears the most recent development in your relationship, he must come to terms with something he was never prepared for, or risk losing you for good.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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There are fewer places Seungcheol hates more than airports. Dentist offices, his grandparents’ house during the holidays when they ask about grandkids, and even the time he ran into his elementary school science teacher the first time he was buying condoms at the pharmacy, all were more favorable than the hustle and bustle of an international airport. 
Seungcheol likes to be straightforward and direct. Something that becomes seemingly at odds with the average person traveling because at the one place everyone has somewhere to be, they act as if they have all the time in the world.
But the simple thought that it's all temporary, that his personal ninth circle of hell is the only thing standing between him and a week in Italy is enough to grin and bear it. 
On the other side of the terminal, his best friends are waiting for him. It’s not as if they haven’t seen each other for long; Jeonghan and Sofie were at bar trivia last week as their last hurrah before tying the knot. As usual they wiped the floor with everyone, rousing several allegations of cheating that Jeonghan deserved. But Seungcheol is about to watch them get married and it makes him a little misty around the eyes because he loves his friends more than anything. 
The only concern, which is less of a concern and more of a titanic size anchor sinking in his gut, is that you’re one of Sofie’s bridesmaids. And you haven’t spoken to him since New Years when you revealed you were moving to New York with your boyfriend, Johnny.
Another place Seungcheol dreads, right next to the airport, is anywhere Johnny happens to be. He’s everything you aren’t: abrasive, arrogant, catty, disorganized. And those are just the traits at the front of the alphabet. 
You had a plan. A list of criteria he had to listen to over and over again after each failed date. Even the guys Seungcheol set you up with after carefully vetting didn’t seem to make the mark. It was respectable, commendable. You wouldn’t settle for anything less than “perfect.” Whatever that meant to you. 
At a bar, three years ago, Johnny approached you. Seungcheol watched from across the table as you mentally ran over your checklist. Johnny met the physical ones: tall, good hygiene, well kept appearance. The other things would need more investigation. What did he do for work? Was he close with his family? Kids? Opinions on cheating at bar trivia?
The more Seungcheol learned about Johnny after your detailed debrief from a few dates the more confused he became. Johnny worked in banking. You hated finance bros and called them scum of the dating pool. He was an only child and only talked to his parents on holidays and birthdays. You had grand dreams of close grandparents and houses full of cousins. He didn’t want kids. You did. He didn’t think bar trivia was that serious. Seungcheol watched you threaten Jeonghan’s life on more than one occasion over the use of Shazam during the music round. Johnny was everything you said you didn’t want. 
And then you followed him across the country after two years of dating cut with three breakups. 
It didn’t make sense. 
When Seungcheol pulled you aside after you announced you’d be moving, trying to figure why you thought living with the man who once asked if you really needed to wash bath towels if you only use them when you’re already clean, you told him to mind his business. Later that night, after enough drinks to make everything blurry, you two got into a screaming match on the sidewalk with your shared friends attempting to play referee. It was the last time you two spoke. 
In over twenty five years of friendship, founded on the backs of elementary school shenanigans under a reign of terror of one Jeonghan Yoon, you and Seungcheol’s real fights can be counted on one hand. 
The sixth grade field trip where you and Jeonghan left him out, senior year of highschool when the girl Seungcheol took to prom argued about his parents taking more pictures with you than her, and junior year of college when Seungcheol caught you making out with his frat brother after ditching him under the guise of having a stomach bug. That was it. Three fights, all of which were resolved within a week because as stubborn as you both are, you’re best friends. 
Five and a half months of not speaking, except when you called Seungcheol in the middle of the night without leaving a message and when he tried calling you back in the morning you didn’t answer. Not until a month later when he finally swallowed his pride and texted a half hearted apology to which you responded with a quarter of forgiveness. That was it. 
But Seungcheol won’t dwell. He refuses to make things awkward for Jeonghan and Sofie during the most special week of their lives. Knowing you, you’ve probably already come to the same resolution. The only person you’re closer to than Seungcheol is Jeonghan with Sofie a close second. If there is anyone you two will agree to put aside an argument for, it's them.
The sun has already begun setting when he makes it through customs and out towards the Arrivals, painting everything in buttery yellow. 
“SEUNGCHEOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL!” Sofie screams, hands cupped around her mouth.
She’s half outside the cherry red sports car. An Intermeccanica Italia Spyder because Seungcheol knows three things in life: expensive watches, expensive whiskey, and expensive cars. Sofie’s family happened to have plenty of the last and Seungcheol assumed the first two as well.
When Sofie became his study partner in law school she ended up following him on Instagram. He assumed from the way she carried herself, perfect posture with tailored clothes and an ‘air of society’ as you called it, that she was well off. But then, during a late night gossip session, you and he did a deep dive and found out Sofie wasn’t just well off. Her family had more money than God. 
But everything on the surface was a contrast to who Sofie really was. Heiress to a fortune but studied more than anyone in their class just to graduate second. Perfect posture and tailored clothes are a stark contrast to her favorite bar where she’d outdrink anyone, and cheer when the prize for trivia was cheap plastic margarita glasses.
Or right now, where she belts Seungcheol’s name again like some drunk frat boy while sitting in a car worth more than his life.
Seungcheol jogs to where she waits, already smiling. 
“I would have brought a ‘Welcome back from rehab’ sign but my mom thought you’d be embarrassed,” Sofie says as she hugs him over the console. 
“At least make it ‘welcome home from prison’ so people won’t walk in my way.”
“I’ll make sure Jeonghan remembers you have a preference,” she calls over the wind. 
Technically, the house (which is really a mansion) is almost an hour from the airport. With Sofie’s driving it only takes twenty minutes in which Seungcheol thinks he might need to start going to church. 
The pebbled driveway crunches underneath the tires as they approach the imposing building he’d call home for the weekend.
In the evening light, the house is more daunting. An imposing stone facade rises from the ground, akin to a small castle than an actual home. Smooth stone with detailed carvings, windows with huge shutters, and on the top floor, a balcony, fenced with wrought iron, juts out.
Even after years of seeing pictures, Seungcheol still can’t believe his friend grew up here. He can’t believe it actually exists and isn’t some set from a historical drama.
Sofie throws the car in park right in front of the door before jumping out. 
“By the way, there were some issues with one of the rooms.” Sofie drops her voice, “My aunt and uncle are fighting again, so I hope you don’t mind sharing?”
Seungcheol knows most of the guys coming to the wedding. Worst case scenario he’s stuck in a twin size bunk bed with a weird cousin. And with how busy he’ll be as best man, his room will be for sleep and not much else. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Perfect! Just leave your stuff, everyones out back.” Sofie pushes him as hard as she can manage which isn’t much at all given she’s five foot nothing. 
The garden is filled with bodies upon bodies crowded together, some old, some young. Seungcheol recognizes a few faces in the mix: Soonyoung, Joshua, Seungkwan. More friends from law school. Jeonghan’s sister waves from across the way. Everyone seems to be paying attention to whatever is happening at the iron garden table. 
And then, like a scene in a movie, everyone parts for a second and time freezes. 
Seungcheol would recognize you anywhere. Even if he can’t see your face, he knows it's you. The curve of your shoulders, the tilt of your head. The bark of laughter as your chin drops forward. He knows it's you and the weight in his stomach lightens and leadens in an odd cycle.
He missed you.
Then everything comes back into real time. Wine and cards. Then he sees the chips on the table, your stack to the side significantly higher than anyone else's. 
Months of ruminating over what he’d do when reunited fly out the window. Seungcheol doesn’t waste a minute as he approaches, hand on the back of your chair as he peeks over your head to sneak a glance at your hand.
“Who let you talk them into poker?”
You’re already smiling when you tilt back to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
Oh, how he missed you.
“She said she didn’t know how to play,” an old man grumbles from the side. 
Seungcheol doesn’t recognize him but he’s got the same expression as all the people you’ve sharked before: mildly impressed and slightly murderous. Two other guys sit at the table, one old enough to be his grandfather looks almost proud. Seokmin fills that last seat, head in his hands at being swindled so easily. 
“I said,” you start, throwing your gaze to him. “I hadn’t played in a while.” 
You look back up at Seungcheol for some kind of support. Eyes round and innocent in a way you both know you’re not. Pool, cards, darts, any game a man a few drinks in could beat you at was easy fodder for your con. Usually it ended with free drinks, sometimes money, but mostly it’s Seungcheol playing referee for the disillusioned guys you swindled while wearing a bright grin. 
Tossing a few chips towards the three men at table with a smart ‘don’t spend it all in one place,’ you rise and throw your arms around Seungcheol like everything is normal. 
“Hi,” you whisper into his neck.
Seungcheol’s hands are already curled around your waist, pulling you in tight. “Hi.”
“I missed you.”
Seungcheol doesn’t think to question the sudden rush of familiarity after months of silence. Every fight in your long friendship ended this way; you both stew and stew until one day things snap back to normal. It’s how it’s always been.
“I see that you can’t even greet your best friend.” Jeonghan coughs from the side.
Seungcheol squeezes you tighter at the jab. It’s Jeonghan’s wedding but Seungcheol saw him last week when dropping the couple off at the airport to come here. He’s far more interested in dragging out his reunion with you as long as possible. “I’m in the middle of that actually.”
He scoffs in response, walking away. “Whatever, I see too much of you anyway.” 
There’s glasses of wine waiting when you break apart. Seungcheol keeps closeby, not that you seem eager to go anywhere. His staring is obvious but he doesn’t care. You’re really here and the cold shoulder he expected to find is nowhere to be found.
Another two hours of celebrating, filled with drunken toasts and more card games with Sofie’s family that only end with you digging into their pockets even deeper, fly by before the exhaustion of a day starting in one continent and ending in another catches up to him. You’re too busy arguing over if Jeonghan cheated in the last round to notice Seungcheol slipping away from the table and towards the door leading inside.
Sofie is in the kitchen just beyond, another bottle of wine sloshing in hand as she talks animatedly on the phone. “Okay, look. I am on vacation. I’m about to get married. I literally left notes for everything I'm not working on during my wedding week. Figure it out. Bye.”
She hangs up without response, tossing her phone on the counter before taking a swig straight from the bottle.
“Good?” Seungcheol asks.
“Oh, you know, just the usual. I leave and suddenly no one knows how to do their job.” Sofie rolls her eyes. “What’s up? Need another glass?”
She raises the same bottle and the thought of more wine nearly turns his stomach.  
Seungcheol brushes her off, moving to the sink and rinsing his glass with finality. “I think I’m gonna crash for the night.”
“Really?” she asks. “But the party just started!”
“For you maybe, some of us have been cramped on a plane all day.” He feels it. In his back and knees. The cramp in his neck from passing out halfway through and waking up bent at ninety degrees. And the hours he spent agonizing through emails with the inflight WiFi because even on vacation he can’t sit still for more than one minute. But now it’s a ticking time bomb before he curls up in a chair and passes out until morning.
Sofie snatches his glass before shooing him away from the sink and taking his place. “I forgot you’re an old man now.”
“You’re the same age as me?”
“Anyway,” she sings. “I know we promised you’d have your own room but—”
“That’s fine. I really don’t mind rooming with one of the guys.”
“Well… you and Y/N were the only ones not sharing and she said she wouldn’t mind for the weekend.”
“Huh?”
“I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal! Seokmin and Kwan agreed to share and room with Josh so things are pretty tight but I can see if we can switch things around and—”
“No, if she’s okay with it then it's fine.” Seungcheol says. “We just haven’t talked since, you know?”
Sofie seems to soften at that. “I know. But it looked like everything was fine outside.”
“Yeah,” Seungcheol sighs. “I missed her.” 
“I know she missed you too.”
“She said that?”
“Oh please, neither of you have to say anything, you’re both pathetic,” she says while pouring another glass. “But I think this weekend will be good for you guys! Like old times.”
Old times. Before the fight. Before you moved away.
“Yeah, just like old times… At least we aren’t sharing a bed, right?” He jokes. 
“Actually,” Sofie grimaces. 
The one solace Seungcheol is gifted is the bed is massive. Almost the entire room is dominated by the plush mattress, a dresser, and a chair in the corner. He considers sleeping in that instead for all of a minute before realizing you probably wouldn’t let him and the absolute torture it’ll do to his neck. 
At least the forced proximity won’t be awkward since you’ve silently agreed to leave the past behind you. He can’t imagine Sofie would consider this solution if you were still mad at him, even if it was her wedding week. The realization lightens the weight on his shoulders an ounce more.
Seungcheol throws his bag down at the foot of the bed. It’s no big deal; sharing a room with you. Childhood sleepovers had been the norm, a few nights in college you’d shared a clunky old twin bed when you both were too drunk to find your ways home separately. Your first apartment together, when you two had to share a mattress on the floor for the first weeks because all your money went into paying rent, flash in his head. Old times.
Thirty minutes later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Seungcheol heads back downstairs for a glass of water before bed.
He remembers where the kitchen is after Sofie’s short tour, trapezing through the huge house easily. Behind different closed doors he catches glimpses of pre-sleep conversations: couples spitting harsh whispers to each other, a few cartoonish voices reading bedtime stories to an audience of childish giggles. But when he reaches the threshold of his destination Seungcheol stumbles into an entirely different atmosphere.
“You haven’t told him yet?”
“No. I didn’t feel like the kind of thing to say over text,” you whisper.
“Well you could have called him!”
“And say what? ‘Hey Cheol, I know we haven’t talked in months because we got into a huge fight about my boyfriend but Johnny and I–’”
Seungcheol strains his ears to hear the rest of your sentence but fails to decipher anything before Jeonghan’s voice cuts in. Whatever ‘it’ is, you seem keen on keeping it a secret.
“Just tell him.” Jeonghan says through a mouthful of something. “I’m sure he’ll be happy.”
His mind races with a million possibilities, all related to Johnny, all things you wouldn’t have told your best friend of over twenty years because of some stupid fight. Something you don’t know how to tell him over the phone, something you need to tell in person.
The realization strikes like lightning.
You and Johnny are engaged.
Thirst forgotten, Seungcheol turns back the way he came. He thinks through the new information as he stumbles up the stairs.
How could you not tell him? How could he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him? How long have you been hiding this? And why did Jeonghan and Sofie know before he did? Was everyone in on the secret and he was the odd man out?
You and Johnny weren’t even that serious when you moved away; or, that's what Seungcheol thought. In all honesty he fully believed it was some joke when you told him. A drunken practical joke taken too far but you didn’t laugh when he did. There was no punchline to share. The boxes were packed away and then the moving truck came and you left with it. 
Everything else hits him in the seclusion of the bedroom. Your shared room. He doesn’t even have the luxury of coming to terms with your latest surprise in private. 
Seungcheol isn’t happy. He is, but because you’re you, argument aside. The past few months are the longest you’ve ever gone without each other and seeing you again lifted a weight off his chest he’d come accustomed to in months of silence. 
It’s an easy decision. If Johnny makes you happy enough to tie your lives together then Seungcheol can bite his tongue. You’re his best friend and by default he’d never think anyone was good enough for you but if you loved Johnny, if you were this serious about him, then Seungcheol would support you.
Even if it meant there would always be a Johnny sized ravine between you.
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Seungcheol wakes far before the sun breaches the horizon. The room still washed in the shadows of early dawn grants him some peace to think over his own conflicts with the news, your quiet snores a backing track from across the bed.
On your side facing him, Seungcheol gets the first good look at you in what feels like forever. Even with the size of the bed barely a foot of space separates your bodies. You hand twisted in the hem of his shirt like even in your sleep you can’t stand to be apart more than necessary.
You look ridiculous; hair a mess and limbs splayed. But your face is soft in sleep, eyelashes fanned on your cheeks and lips in a pout. 
There’s an odd flutter in his stomach. He wasn't lying when he said he missed you. But now things are complicated. 
He hadn’t slept at all last night; mind constantly replaying the conversation he heard in the kitchen, formulating his reaction when you finally let him in on the ‘surprise.’
Perhaps under different circumstances he wouldn’t struggle with news. Seungcheol wants you to be happy. Johnny is the problem in the scenario. They never got along, barely spoke outside of the few times forced circumstances required them to. Seungcheol was polite. Johnny was polite. 
Seungcheol wanted to kill him and he’s certain Johnny felt the same.
Relationships naturally take priority over time but Johnny seemed to creep in and choke Seungcheol out of all the places he’d been firmly planted for years. Another reason he isn’t happy.
Monday night Bachelor? Canceled, because Johnny plays beer league softball with his friends and you started going to that.
No more sleepovers at Seungcheol’s after a night out because ‘it makes Johnny uncomfortable.’ Fair complaint. Seungcheol wouldn’t appreciate his girlfriend sleeping over at a guy's house after drinking if the roles were reversed. But Seungcheol isn’t some guy and you were his best friend before you were Johnny’s girlfriend.
Traditions at Christmas felt hollow without you. The first one you spent meeting Johnny���s family in Minnesota you texted Seungcheol the entire time about how cold it was, how they were a 5k on a holiday type family despite the fact there was three feet of snow outside. 
All small details that mean everything to Seungcheol, never meant as much to you. 
And that’s why he doesn’t like Johnny. Because he made Seungcheol realize that.
It’s not that you and Johnny didn’t work. Seungcheol just couldn’t wrap his head around why you wanted to overlook all the glaring differences to make it work.
But pointing that out left him with a cold shoulder lasting six months so he plans to keep his mouth shut.
You tried talking to him before bed but gave up when he pretended to be asleep. It took everything he had not to give in and talk into the early morning. Six months was more than enough ground to cover for you two to catch up; he was promoted, you had an entirely new life in another city that he wanted to hear all about. His insane neighbor from across the hall, who you both are sure sells drugs, is actually a preschool teacher (mysteries of the universe). And he knows you probably have kooky neighbors of your own in New York.
But, in all honesty, he didn’t want to hear stories with Johnny’s name attached. Wasn’t ready to hear you say you’re engaged. It’s one thing to know it. But the second the words leave your lips then it’s real. Then Johnny is here to stay and it's only a matter of time before you two are arguing again.
Especially when everything said months ago was still fresh in his mind. Words he’d stand by no matter what. But Seungcheol has figured out that there are conversations he’s allowed to have with you and ones that should never see the light of day if your friendship is to survive. Johnny is one, the other is a memory from college that remains vivid no matter how hard he tries to forget.
But this weekend wasn’t about you and him, it's about Sofie and Jeonghan. If Seungcheol can dive into focusing on them, maybe he’ll survive.
Today is the one day reserved for sightseeing before ‘the inevitably disorganized shit show of an Italian wedding’ as Sofie puts it. 
Seungcheol has already seen some of the big things thanks to his study abroad in undergrad: the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon. So for today, he'll stick by whatever you want to do. You’re the building nerd architect.
When he finally finds the willpower to roll away, carefully extracting your grip on him before ducking from the sheets, you stir enough to release a sleepy whine in protest before burying back under the blanket. 
It’s odd but he notices you’re not wearing a ring. Seungcheol looked closely if you took it off before bed but nothing stands out in the bathroom or on the dresser. He assumes you took it off to make the weekend about Sofie and Jeonghan rather than yourself. It’s something you would do. Or maybe it’s at the jeweler’s for repairs. Maybe Johnny had gaudy taste and bought a ring so flashy you refused to wear it. 
Seungcheol doesn’t know but it strikes him as strange.
The kitchen is already bustling with life even at such an early hour. Family and friends trickle in one by one, joining Seungcheol at the table with cups of coffee and munching on fruit and biscuits as their hangovers ebb. Quickly, the peace he preserved in the early quiet melts into loud laughter and a million buzzing conversations.
You melt into the chair beside him, eyes barely open as you snag his cup and scowl after finding it already drained.
“Coffee?” you mumble.
Seungcheol pushes his plate of unfinished fruit and a half finished pastry you way. “Sofie’s mom is brewing more. But it’s strong.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” you say around a mouthful of jam and dough. “I drank a full cup the first day I got here and felt like Sonic.”
“That’s how you know it’s good.”
“You’re insane.”
“What are your plans for today?”
“So there's this church, the Santa Maria Sopra della Minerva. It’s near the Pantheon!” you ramble, peeling another orange. “It’s just beautiful and it's got a statue by Michelangelo next to the altar and the design is incredible.”
Seungcheol can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm. A city filled with ancient buildings and history is right up your alley. 
He remembers how you pouted when he came back from his trip in college after yours to Venice was canceled due to ‘not enough student interest.’ The only thing that managed to quell your anger was all the pictures Seungcheol took with you in mind. Close ups of the tiniest details about ancient designs tour guides pointed out to disinterested business majors but he knew you’d care if you’d been there. If you were there then you’d probably be leading the tour yourself whether the guide liked it or not.
“Mind if I come with?” he asks over his fresh cup of coffee.
“Duh,” you roll your eyes with a smile. “I waited for you to get here to go.”
Sofie’s uncle, the one not under threat of murder by his wife, agrees to drive you both out. He drives at full speed from the second he hits the gas pedal. With the windows down. The breeze is as nice as a wind tunnel and cuts off everything Zio Berto tries to point out except for his screams at other drivers. 
On the other side of the back seat, you’re turning green. Seungcheol is glad the window is already down because if you get sick, he will too. And Sofie would refuse any payment for the cleaning fee, Seungcheol is morally opposed to ruining such a nice car with vomit.
The city whips past outside the windows, cobblestone streets slowly growing more crowded as the car edges closer to the center city. Berto finally slows down to avoid pedestrians and mopeds but only by a fraction. He doesn’t seem to share Seungcheol’s concern about body fluids clashing with the car design.
Finally, after what feels like a century, the car jerks to a stop. You don’t even pretend to be polite and exit immediately, hands on your knees while dry heaving for air.
“I’ll be around. Have fun!” Berto calls from the driver's seat. “Call me when you’re ready to head back.”
Seungcheol waves him off and when he turns back where you were standing, you’re already gone; circling the elephant obelisk in the center of the cobblestone courtyard.
“Isn’t it so cool?” You gush, snapping photos.
The exterior of the building is unassuming. Flat sandstone brick without much detail but you see the things that are important. In a few minutes you’ll be in tour guide mode, pointing out the smallest crack no one would see unless they already studied the church's history in depth.
“Soooo cool,” he jests. He appraises the statue with you, turning his head this way and that. 
You slap his shoulder, “Don’t be a jerk!”
“Okay, okay. Give me the tour.”
“It was built on the ruins of a temple of Isis.”
“Okay, and why the elephant?”
“The obelisk was taken from the Church of San Stefano del Cacco down that way,” you point. “It's originally from Sais in Egypt but got moved all the way here. The elephant was commissioned by the pope to display it based on a book that was popular at the time.”
“Interesting.” 
You point at the inscription on the plinth before continuing, “that’s from the book.”
Sapientis Aegypti insculptas obelisco figuras ab elephanto, belluarum fortissima, gestari quisquis hic vides, documentum intellege robustae mentis esse solidam sapientiam sustinere.
“Whoever you are, who sees here the figures of the Egyptian wise man carved on the obelisk carried by the elephant, the strongest of wild animals, understand the symbolism to be that a strong mind supports firm wisdom,” you translate. 
“I didn’t know you read latin.”
“I don’t. It’s in English on the other side,” you laugh. “But I do know, the guy who designed the statue made it look like it's farting because the pope told him to change the design from what he originally wanted.”
“Really?”
“Yep. He said having it stand on four legs was dangerous so the sculptor added the saddle and a cube at the base, but he also made its butt face the convent so the friars would have to see its ass every time they came out.”
“Wow.”
Seungcheol circles the statue and sure enough the tail is angled to look like it's blowing wind.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a lie but I’d like to think people were that petty hundreds of years ago. Now all people do is subtweet and post vague Instagram stories. I want someone to hate me so much they design an entire statue just to minorly inconvenience me each morning.”
You’re fully of facts Seungcheol would never know. It’s one of the best parts of visiting places with you. It’s not just some building or some random statue. You give the architecture a new life.
Seungcheol’s mind flashes back to the first time he accompanied you and Johnny to a monument back home. In the five minutes you’d been there, he realized Johnny truly did not care about your interests.
The look on your face that day told him you realized Johnny didn’t care either.
It’s the same pact everyone that moves to D.C. makes to visit all the museums and monuments and landmarks. Good intentions with zero realistic goals. Except you’re stubborn and the drive to say you did something means Seungcheol has tagged along to thirty out of the one hundred and fifteen on your list. Johnny missed most either from work trips or some other excuse and the one Seungcheol missed had been the only one Johnny came to because of the flu.
Safe to say the first time visiting together was a shit show. Johnny didn’t pretend to evaluate the ‘important’ parts, didn’t ask questions or bother reading the placards detailing events of significance, raced through the entire thing to leave you and Seungcheol behind. It’s not like you or Seungcheol were overwhelmed with beauty and needed hours but Johnny finished his round after less than thirty minutes and told you to text him when you were done. 
So Seungcheol did the only thing he could to get back at Johnny without upsetting you: walked as slow as possible, pointing out things he knew you’d know more about, and dragging things out so Johnny was stuck waiting in the frigid winter wind outside to suffer.
You knew what he was doing, obvious from the way you hook your arm through his and give an affection squeeze. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes but you both pushed through.
Thank whatever powers be that Johnny wasn’t here now.
“See the windows?” you ask, pointing to the three different sized circular windows hanging over the main doorways. 
“Yeah,” he nods.
“Well you can’t tell from here but they’re rose tinted.”
Seungcheol tries to see what you’re talking about but the windows are dark and covered in some kind of lacquer that makes them look gray and dusty rather than pink.
“And why is that important, Professor Y/L/N?”
“Because it’s the only medieval church in Rome like that!” 
You continue rambling off facts, talking a mile a minute as your point at different things and walk Seungcheol around the exterior. A few other people's ears perk up as you go on about how the details had been done over and over; first Romanesque, then Gothic then, some guy named Carlo Maderno added Baroque designs inside, and friars who put in stained glass windows.
By the time you take a breath, the crowd has taken a closer interest in the windows and the elephant statue due to your brief history. A few look at the flood plaques which are some of the best preserved records the city has.
Seungcheol hangs onto every word. He doesn’t care about the old church, it’s an interesting bit of history sure but he could be outside any church in Rome and have the same reaction. He cares about the church because you care. And your passion about old windows and flood markers make it the most interesting place in the world right now.
“Go stand on the steps so I can take your picture,” you demand.
“Do I have to?” Seungcheol jokingly complains.
“Just go.”
Seungcheol poses as you direct, flashing a few silly poses you laugh at. He manages to wrangle you into taking a few photos as well. Ones that will probably be sent to your mom and never see the light of day other than her Facebook. Your Instagram is reserved for, in order: buildings, animals, food, and the rare picture of you with friends at some sort of occasion (wedding, graduation, the time Jeonghan broke his leg drunk on a city scooter and ended up in the ER). 
You’re in the middle of pretending to hold the Leaning Tower of Pisa when someone approaches Seungcheol.
“Would you like us to take your photo?” an elderly woman asks. She is a quintessential tourist: fanny pack, camera around her neck, sun burnt around the ears. A man in a matching shirt approaches with her, donning the same gear and pink tinge. Seungcheol recognizes them from a few minutes prior when you gave your lecture about elephant butts and petty sculptors.
“Sure, thank you.”
He hands over his phone and joins you on the steps. You both pose like normal adults, smiles plastered on your face while Seungcheol gives you bunny ears and you pull his hair.
“Beautiful couple!”
“Oh, we’re not…” You both object.
“We’re on our second honeymoon.” The man croons at his wife, chuffed when she rolls her eyes and focuses on the camera screen. “You two?”
“We’re here for a wedding.”
“Wow! Married in Rome,” the wife gasps. “How romantic.”
It isn’t the first time you two have been mistaken for a couple. Anytime you’re with him or Jeonghan someone assumes you’re dating. Occasionally, you’d play it up, make an entire story about how you met, how long you’ve been together, biting your tongues the entire time as each detail is more ludicrous than the last.
Jeonghan takes the cake as the most ridiculous. Two tornado chasers that ran into each other ten years ago and never let go. Him and Seungcheol, not you. Which really threw the waitress off. Never mind the fact you all were sophomores in college, high as kites and stuffing yourselves full of hashbrowns in a greasy spoon diner for Seungcheol’s birthday.
“Did you two meet here?” the husband asks.
“Oh no, we actually met in a competitive bowling league,” you fib, wrapping your arm through Seungcheol’s.
What the hell?
“Romantic!” The wife belts like she actually believes nothing could inspire love like sharing shoes with countless strangers and cheap beer.
Seungcheol would take the piss under any other circumstances. Except this time you’re actually engaged and the last time you two pretend to be a couple was when you fake proposed to him in a fancy restaurant to score free champagne and dessert to celebrate the end of law school.
“Would you mind taking a few of us?” the man asks.
You snap a few pictures on the wife’s phone and after more coos of ‘romantic!’ and a few thank yous they melt into the crowd.
“Alright, let's go inside.”
“Lead the way.” Seungcheol feels more awkward than before, cheeks red but not from the sun beating down
Upon entering the church, he discovers the inside is much more interesting than the outside. Holy water stoups are held up by marble. Two statues flank the entrance. There’s more things to see than Seungcheol’s brain can handle but he follows behind you, mind lingering on the scene outside.
“‘My husband’?” Seungcheol asks.
“What? We won’t see them again. Who cares?”
Probably your own fiancé but just as Seungcheol opens his mouth a priest silences him with a sharp, “SHH!”
Passing through a high stone archway, you enter the nave. The ceiling, cobalt and gold with motifs of  biblical figures and cherubs, rises high above. 
“Look!” you whisper. “Isn’t it cool?”
Your point at a marble Jesus wearing a bronze loin cloth.
Cool isn’t the word he’d choose but he goes with it.
“Michelangelo started it but two other people had to finish it for him.”
“Oh.”
“But people still call it Michelangelo’s statue because it’s more impressive. Besides, he did most of it before his apprentice took over.”
He observes the paintings and statues, the stone work that bulges from the walls like they’re trying to come alive and escape their immortal capture. There’s even a tomb and shrine with incredible detail. 
It takes two hours to see everything and another thirty minutes to make your way out of the church because you both keep catching missed signs or there's some tiny piece of the ceiling with an odd detail.
He missed this.
Outside, you open your phone and look at the message from Sofie. She made the recommendation to come down here and gave an extensive list of everything else to be done in the area. There’s so many options it would take at least a week to see half of them.
“This hotel has a rooftop restaurant that’s supposed to have a good view of St. Peters,” you say.
The restaurant would have a great view of the city, if it wasn’t shut down for renovations. The staff don’t even let you near the elevator before you’re both swept outside and back on the street.
“Well…” Seungcheol starts.
“Should we call Berto?”
He doesn’t want to. Partially because Berto’s driving might kill him and also because he doesn’t want to end his time with you just yet. One of the things he missed about you living in the same city was weekends in museums for hours. Now that he has it again, he hesitates to cut the time short.
“Wait, I think we’re near one of the parks we visited when I came in college.”
“Oh my god,” you gasp sarcastically. “Did you study abroad? I never knew!”
“Shut up.”
Seungcheol pulls out his phone and dials Berto’s number. “Hey, Berto. No, we're good, everything is fine. But I was wondering how far away is Villa Borghese from us? Oh really? Would you be able to come drop us off? Awesome. Thanks man.”
“Well?”
“He’ll be here in five.”
Five minutes turns into fifteen and in that time Seungcheol burns out. Jetlag and the dull thrums of city streets make him sleepy. You sit in front of him on a bench outside the church. He thought he was better at hiding it but he’s pretty sure if he sits down, he’ll fall asleep.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask once Berto arrives. “We can go back to the house if you want.”
There’s an unofficial official itinerary for today.
Anything before four is fair game. After that there is a welcome cocktail party at a fancy restaurant in the city one of the De Luca’s family friends own.
If Seungcheol doesn’t go home now then it’ll be a close call to nap and shower in time. Not that Sofie is exceptionally punctual about things like that but Seungcheol is.
“I don’t want you not to see stuff just because I’m tired.”
“Cheol, I’ve been here all week with Sofie and Han. I promise this was the only thing left on my list of stuff to do. Anything else would have been a bonus.”
“Only if you're sure.”
“We can always come back again. I’m pretty sure Sofie’s mom is decorating a room for me.”
Yeah, because most men are fine with their fiancée taking international trips with another man. Not that you’d listen or Johnny has the balls to say something about it. But Seungcheol knows the chances of coming back here together, like this, are slim to nonexistent.
“Alright. But you can’t bring it up in an argument.”
“I can and I will.” The corner of you mouth twitches as your head shakes before opening the back seat for him. “Now get in the car, old-timer.” 
Seungcheol falls asleep on your shoulder in a blink. Berto is quiet (or the open windows drown him out enough that Seungcheol can pretend) and the heat of your body next to his lulls his heart. It’s not a peaceful rest and his neck is killing him by the time Berto pulls into the driveway, but it’s nice.
Seungcheol beelines for the bathroom while you slip into the kitchen. Something about centerpieces or napkins or tablecloths; he isn’t really sure but Sofie’s mom says it's urgent so he goes upstairs alone, showers in record time, and dives under the covers.
His dreams are filled with blue and gold elephants, He wakes to the sound of your voice blended with the sound of water.
You’re singing. More so humming some off key melody that bounces off the shower tiles and echoes straight into his brain. It drags him in that liminal space between waking and dreaming where anything is possible. Maybe he’s still dreaming. Of you and him, back when you shared an apartment and things weren’t so complicated. When there weren’t secrets and omissions and he didn’t have to bite his tongue.
His eyes stay closed, refusing to budge until the last minute.
The shower turns off but the humming continues, louder now that you’re out of the bathroom and collecting your things.
You must think Seungcheol is still asleep because when his eyes slit open, only enough to decipher your hazy silhouette, you’re in nothing but a towel. A very very tiny towel that hides nothing but the necessary bits and even then only barely. 
He can’t wake up now. Not when you bend over to look in your suitcase for Seungcheol closed his eyes just in time. But it doesn’t stop his brain from latching on to every sound in the quiet of the room; the humming tickling across your lips, the wet thump! of your towel on the ground. Oh god, now you’re not even wearing a towel. 
Seungcheol won’t be that friend. He never has. Or has always tried not to be. But teenage hormones make a young boy’s brain untamable so it’d be a lie to say he’s never thought of you like that. But despite his feelings, Seungcheol has made sure they never became a factor in your friendship.
Even though there is a peace of his soul that will always belong to you.
So he pretends to be asleep, forcibly controlling his breathing while you shuffle around the room none the wiser to his rising predicament.
Finally, you disappear back into the bathroom to change and Seungcheol’s lungs stretch with air until they burn.
You look pretty. Objectively. You glow in the late afternoon sun pouring in from the window, a ditsy floral print dress of orange and cream that hugging your figure; delicate collar bones on display under the flimsy straps and the column of your neck bare save for the necklace you’ve worn everyday since your parents bought it for your sixteenth birthday.
“C’mon sleepy head,” you whisper.
Seungcheol is thrilled his gawking is easily disguised as jetlag.
He changes in the bathroom. Taking a moment to grip the sink, his reflection stares back in the mirror. It’s the exhaustion and dehydration making his brain muddle. Nothing to do with you or him.
It’s fine. Everything is perfectly fine.
The downstairs foyer is in complete chaos but Sofie commands the room like she always does from the top of the stairway.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready?” She yells like a WWE announcer.
Cheers rise up from the gaggle of adults. Cousins, friends, parents, aunts and uncles. Most of them Seungcheol has never seen before and is pretty sure neither have Jeonghan or Sofie but it’s fine. The more the merrier.
Except when different cars end up filled to the brim and you end up sitting on Seungcheol’s lap instead of a seat.
His heart leaps with every bump, yo
ur hair flying into his face and leaving the sweet smell of perfume to flood his senses. Seungcheol can’t even think about that because Sofie’s Zia Linda puts her husband's driving to shame.
At some point you nearly fly out the open window–Why does no one believe in keeping the windows up?– and Seungcheol is forced to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from ending up a part of the cobblestone road.
“Sorry,” you say. The squeeze at his arm tells him your thankful at least something is stopping you from becoming roadkill.
“It’s fine.”
If you notice his strained breath, you don’t say anything.
The rooftop restaurant is gigantic but with everyone it feels small and crowded. Below, all of Rome spreads out. Lights twinkle in the distance and the moon is heavy overhead, ready for a night of revelry. It’s a welcome party so things are casual, finger foods and drinks flow heavily while everyone mingles.
Sofie and Jeonghan laugh at their own table, holding court with family and friends that flood in and out with congratulations. They’re good at it. Jeonghan ventures on the more introverted side but Sofie could have a meaningful conversation with a pile of rocks. 
You're off at another table, talking with Soonyoung and Seungkwan, a second glass of wine in hand. Laughter rings out and he feels drawn to it like a siren call. It was foolish to worry that the scar from Johnny wouldn’t heal over eventually. All you two needed was time.
Seungcheol barely leaves your side during the party. You dance and drink and dance some more until you’re both left in a heap at the same table by the dance floor. Soonyoung and Seokmin provide ample distraction, taking to the floor to do…something Seungcheol hesitates to call dancing because it resembles a child's idea of a circus. 
Dancing, food, and wine leave him feeling loose and sleepy. You’re not much better, head on his shoulder and hand tangled with his across your knees.
“Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
His shirt is unbuttoned, sleeves rolled high. In the back of the car on the ride home, you trace the muscle of his forearms draped over your waist until it lulls him to sleep.
Back at the house, you, Sofie, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol throw out sleepy goodnights and I love you’s before retreating to your separate corners of the house. Jeonghan is technically staying in a room in the same wing as you two (Sofie’s house is big enough to have an east and west wing which still shocks him). Something about family tradition and bad luck for the wedding but Jeonghan follows his fiancée like a shadow to her room at the opposite end of the house without theatrics.
And then there’s just you two.
You lean on each other the entire walk up, like you need the other support or you’ll crumble to the floor and sleep there. Honestly, it’s not a bad idea. Seungcheol has slept in worse places.
The stairs present their own challenges. You go first, Seungcheol right behind in case you fall backwards which has happened enough times that it’s become a habit to walk this way when alcohol is involved. But it doesn’t solve the issue of you tripping up.
Which you do with an effortless lack of grace on the last step.
“Oh, shit!” you giggle.
Seungcheol laughs so hard his knees buckle and he flops on the floor next to you like a dying fish.
“Shhh!” you slur, finger pressed to his lips. “People are sleeping.”
But you're cackling now and he can’t breathe from the painful quaking laughter rooting in his belly. He’s on his back, and you prop up on your arm to loom over him. Twin smiles breaking your faces, eyes watering with drunken mirth.
You go silent first, tracing his features silently like they must be committed to memory. Seungcheol does the same. You’re exactly the same as the day you left. Except for the vacation glow from being here for the past week. He recognizes all the parts of you he’s known for a lifetime. The silver scar on your chin from learning to ride a bike and crashing into a tree. The color of your eyes. The blush of your mouth.
The finger pressed to his lips traces along the plump flesh, then his chin, then it circles the back of his head and you’re ducking down.
Alarms go off in Seungcheol’s head screaming: 
DANGER! DANGER! THIS IS NOT WHAT FRIENDS DO! DANGER!
“Wow, it’s late,” he laughs horsley as he rolls away and to his feet. 
You jump away, dazed for a second before laughing as well. “Yeah, let’s um…let’s go to bed.”
He can’t quite read your expression. Several  emotions swirl across your face but Seungcheol can barely look at you without feeling his face heat so he doesn’t linger. 
Seungcheol takes the bathroom after you finish, rushing through his night time routine in sober silence. 
You're drunk. That’s the only reason you’re trying to kiss him. Or he had something on his mouth and you can’t find the words to tell him. It was a mistake. A momentary lapse of judgment that didn’t mean anything.
It wasn’t even a fraction of an almost kiss. Your noses barely touched, it doesn’t count.
When he comes back into the room, you’re curled up on the bed in your pajamas asleep.
Seungcheol circles to the other side, slipping under the covers and getting comfortable. The room feels smaller after what just happened. But it wasn’t a big deal. Nothing happened. You both were drunk and missed each other. You never would have kissed him.
Despite the fact the first, and only, time you two kissed was in very similar circumstances.
Rolling over, you find him and cuddle into his chest. Seungcheol opens his arms for you on instinct. 
“Did you have fun today?” you ask into his collarbone. The vibration of your voice tickles but it’s dulled from Seungcheol’s heart thudding wildly.
“Yeah.”
His hand smooths the back of your hair, down your back. You readjust, throwing a leg over his own and pulling him in tight.
“Good,” you say around a yawn. “Me too.”
Seungcheol tamps down the piece of him that wants to indulge in this. Just holding you, pretending things outside the door don’t exist and it’s just you and him and no one else. 
But he can’t do that.
“You know,” he starts. “I’m happy for you no matter what, right? You and Johnny…I’m happy for you.”
Seungcheol waits for a response that will never come because you’re out cold, snoring against his chest.
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You’re still asleep when Seungcheol wakes around noon. Sometime in the night you shifted to the far side of the bed, taking the blanket with you. He doesn’t try to wake you, still confused at exactly what happened last night.
Seungcheol isn’t naive. He knows what women look like when they want to be kissed, when they're thinking about how his mouth will feel against theirs. Usually he revels in it; loves the flare to his ego, the chance to tease before giving in.
But to see the expression on your face sent him into a panic. He’s seen it once before, indulged in it, and it ruined his life for the better part of college. Lips parted, eyes glassy as you stared. All the telltale signs were there: the lift of your chin, hands twisted in his shirt, eyes drooped low.
And the worst part was you did all that despite having a fiance waiting back home none the wiser. Even if Seungcheol couldn’t stand Johnny, he’d never do that. Never allow you to do that. 
Even if he wanted nothing more than to feel your lips on his.
He heads as far away as he can. Turns out it’s down stairs for breakfast. Sofie is at the kitchen table, typing on her laptop.
“Morning,” Seungcheol croaks.
“You look like shit. Wild night?”
“Just some old timers thinking they’re twenty one again.”
“What assholes.” She laughs. “How's Y/N?”
Seungcheol freezes like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Sofie couldn’t know what almost but certainly didn’t happen in the hallway last night. “She’ll probably need an exorcism but she’ll survive.”
“By the way, I meant to give her this last night but everything was crazy. Can you pass it off? Jeonghan and I have to take my grandma to lunch and she’s already called twice sooooo…”
“Yeah, go. Have fun.”
Sofie is up and out before he can blink, a tiny piece of cardstock left in her place.
Kira Long
Artisan Jeweler
Her social media and number are at the bottom but Seungcheol doesn’t need more information.
He hides around the villa most of the day. Catching up with the guys around the pool, feigning fatigue when you come out to join. The gardens are big enough for him to disappear into for a few hours before he needs to go and get ready.
Unfortunately, that also means you are getting ready. 
A leg.
That’s all Seungcheol sees when he opens the door.
Your leg specifically, propped on the dresser while you apply lotion in nothing but that damn skimpy towel designed to torture him.
“AH!” you shriek, shocked by his sudden entrance. 
“I’m sorry!” he shouts.
The fabric unravels around your chest and suddenly you're naked and Seungcheol is not looking. 
“What the fuck? Have you ever heard of knocking?”
He’s not.
“Why are you naked?”
The ceiling is very interesting. 
“Because I wanted to scare you.” you scream sarcastically. The door to the hallway is still open. Seungcheol either stays in with you or goes back out because it can’t stay open much longer. He makes the fatal mistake of locking himself inside with you. “Because I thought you’d knock, you fucker! Jesus fucking Christ, turn around.”
Seungcheol saw you naked. 
He hides in the bathroom like a wimp until it’s time to leave.
It’s a short walk to the church down the street for the rehearsal ceremony. It’s all a blur given the million and one things flying through his brain; most of them you. You in your towel. The fact you’re engaged. You looking at him like you’re dying to be kissed. The fact you’re engaged. How everyone has assumed you’re a couple this entire weekend and you’ve played along. The fact you are engaged to a man that isn’t him and Seungcheol can’t help but feel bitter about it for a completely different reason than he ever thought he would be. 
Luckily, the ceremony is only planned to last less than an hour. He knows he isn’t subtle but he tries to grin and bear it for his friends. He can see the same sentiment in you. Your smile doesn’t quite fit but Seungcheol can’t think about what it could be about. 
“Do you take this man…”
Was it his rejection? It wouldn’t make sense if it was. You’re his best friend but not even that dictates cheating. You weren’t the type; in your own words cheating was more pathetic than ghosting someone as a form of break up. 
He doesn’t get it.
“I always love you even though you sleep like a princess, my love,” Sofie gushes.
“And I’ll forgive you for snoring like an old man, love of my life.” Jeonghan fires back.
They’re saving their real vows, the one Seungcheol helped Jeonghan with, for the ceremony. Even with all the confusion swirling in his head, he can’t wait for Sofie to hear what Jeonghan has in store.
The priest is less than impressed but moves forward like he can’t wait to have them out of his congregation as fast as possible.
“Okay, and you two leave and the wedding party follows…”
Seungcheol offers his arm to the Maid of Honor, Maria, guiding her back down the aisle where Jeonghan and Sofie bicker. You follow with Seokmin, break away the second it's polite with some excuse about needing the bathroom before you dissolve into the crowd.
The dinner is back at the house. The outside is lined with chairs crowded around tables covered in exploding bouquets and candles. Family members and friends weave to and fro, drinks and food flowing heavily.
You’re talking to Seokmin in the corner of the courtyard, a glass of wine already in your hand as you laugh along to whatever the other man said. 
“So Sofie said you’re a lawyer?” Maria asks. 
“Yeah, that’s how we became friends. I actually was the one who introduced her and Jeonghan.”
“Wow, so you’re a lawyer and a matchmaker.” 
Seungcheol laughs at the compliment. Introducing Sofie and Jeonghan had been a complete accident with unintended consequences. “I wouldn’t say that. I thought Sofie would strangle him the first time they met.”
“Oh, I heard all about that. When Sofie told me they started dating I thought she must’ve meant a different Jeonghan.”
Maria makes good company through the first rounds of drinks before dinner is served. She takes his focus away from you, how your leg presses against his under the table. She grew up down the road, went to school with Sofie all the way through undergrad. Her boyfriend, Jihoon, is a surgeon back in Seattle while she works in marketing. Unfortunately getting time off for a second year resident verges on impossible so he couldn’t come to the wedding.
“You two are so cute together, how long have you been dating?” Maria asks before taking a swig of her drink.
“Oh we’re not together,” Seungcheol corrects swiftly.
You give a tense nod of agreement. 
“Really?”
“Yep. We grew up together. She’s like my sister.” 
He sounds like an asshole. The words are bile but there can be no room for incorrect interpretations. This weekend had been nothing but confusing so far. Seungcheol needs to set himself straight on where he stands with you.
“Oh,” Maria nods. “Okay. So Y/N, are you dating anyone?”
“Actually I—”
Your response fizzles out because Jeonghan’s dad rises from his seat for a speech.
“I want to take a moment to express my deepest appreciation to everyone here this weekend to celebrate Sofie and Jeonghan. I remember the first time he told us about her, how happy he was and thought ‘oh this poor girl doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into’.” There’s a smatter of laughter throughout the room. Sofie leans into Jeonghan’s shoulder and he places a kiss on her temple. “But then I met Sofie and I can say, without a doubt, there are very few people more perfect for each other than those two. Sofie, welcome to our family.”
Dinner passes, course after course and more wine until Seungcheol physically can’t have any more. You and Maria hit it off, rambling about Jihoon’s two cats and the abandoned kitten that hangs out around his work he’s trying to bribe into coming home. You barely look at him during the conversation but he prefers it.
Dessert comes with coffee and then everyone dissolves. Some stay around the tables to chat and drink and laugh, others help clean up. But Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and the groom's party head for the back gardens, Seungkwan already queueing up the song for one last practice.
It’s tradition, in southern Italy at least, for the groom to serenade his bride-to-be the night before their wedding. Seungcheol couldn’t believe Jeonghan was planning to go through with such tradition but he’s seen the man do more for Sofie than he thought he was capable of so it shouldn’t come as a shock.
The warm summer air does good for his mood, as does laughing with the guys when Soonyoung and Seungkwan get into a wrestling match after debating if they step-shuffle for three or four counts. But they all agree with four because it’s easier to remember.
The top floor balcony at the front of the house turns out to be Sofie’s room. The light floods out of the open doors, and two sets of giggles pour down to where they stand.
Jeonghan cups his hands around his mouth and calls, “Juliet, Juliet! Let down your hair!” 
“That’s not the saying.” Seungcheol corrects. 
“Shut up, I’m talking to my wife.”
“That’s not the saying!” Sofie laughs from above. 
You and Sofie peek over the side of the iron terrace, grins already splitting your faces. You knew what was happening. It’s why you whisked Sofie away with whatever distraction you could think of while the men gathered outside for a quick last minute dry run. Something about broken heels and needing to borrow a pair of shoes.
“Sofie Cosima De Luca, you are the love of my life.” Jeonghan yells. He’s drunk on love (and a lot of champagne). “I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow. I just hope after this you still want to marry me. Hit it!”
The obscenely large speaker Seungcheol carried out starts humming the instrumental to Sofie and Jeonghan’s song. The very one Jeonghan drunkenly serenaded her with in a dingy bar, back when she didn’t believe he could handle a serious relationship and he was hopelessly wrapped around her finger.
“I’ve got sunshineeeeeeee on a cloudy day…” Jeonghan croons.
“Oh my god,” Sofie cackles.
Everyone else joins in, harmonizing in the back along with the choreo Seungkwan and Soonyoung came up with. A simple side step with occasional jazz hands (much to Soonyoung’s tipsy dismay). “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way?” 
“MY GIRL,” Jeonghan belts his line, smiling dumbly.
You’re watching the shenanigans unfold, smiling as well. But while you're looking at everyone else, the only person Seungcheol can look at is you; the way your eyes gleam in the moonlight, your chin tipping back to laugh when Jeonghan’s voice cracks. You’re breathtaking. For a brief moment, barely a passing thought in the roaring river of his brain focused on his cue to sing and side step when needed, Seungcheol imagines what it would be like if you two were the only ones around.
Chalking it up to the moment, Seungcheol thinks about anything else as they finish the performance.
The music dwindles away and all that's left is Jeonghan staring up at his future wife as the rest of the group takes exaggerated bows. Other guest peek from windows or the edge of the drive way, cheering loudly.
“Bravi! Bravissimi!” Sofie cries as you both clap. “Can I make a request?”
Jeonghan nods like an eager puppy in response.
“Sing the Thong Song!” you both request through giggles.
“That's for after the wedding.” Jeonghan winks.
Time for Seungcheol to do his best man duties and prevent Jeonghan from making a complete ass of himself. "Alright Casanova, let’s go.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jeonghan calls over his shoulder, fighting against everyone ushering him away.
“Don’t be late!” Sofie demands.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
After returning Jeonghan to his room for the night, Seungcheol heads back to his completely unprepared to see you again. Too many feelings swirl in his head. Feelings he thought he finally left back in college.
He remembers only a few key events of his early childhood. When he lost his first tooth, when he broke his arm for the first time, and his soccer game at four years old when Jeonghan and he rubbed dirt in each other's faces and rolled in the grass instead of playing. But other than that, his life has been distinctly divided into two parts: before you, and after you. He remembers when you marched into the first day of second grade with a sparkly blue bookbag much too big for your little body. You went to the front of the class, introduced yourself loud and proud, and then looked around the room like you were daring anyone to say something back. 
And like any other childhood friendship is made, you sat at Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s table and asked if they wanted to be your friend. Without even considering the options, they both agreed. From then on out you’d always been Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and YN. Friends in elementary school, all through middle school, and even into the far reaches of highschool when Seungcheol played sports all year while you and Jeonghan did theater. It never occurred to any of you to be apart. Until Jeonghan stayed home to attend university in your hometown. And then it was Seungcheol and YN. Jeonghan came to visit when he could and vice versa. But at university it was you two against the world.
The first time Seungcheol realized he liked you was in third grade after you dumped chocolate milk on Jeonghan’s head because he put a bug in your lunchbox. He married you on the playground and made mud pies to celebrate. And then in high school when Seungcheol realized you weren’t just a girl but a pretty girl and the hormones of his teenage body latched onto that fact and plagued his dreams with the information. 
And he never did anything about that crush because he knew it wasn’t worth losing you to act on those silly notions. They passed just like he thought, melted away as time went on and you both dated other people. 
But that night freshman year of college…
It doesn’t matter. 
Because you have a fiancé and Seungcheol is happy for you.
The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom as Seungcheol enters your shared room. At least it delays the inevitable awkwardness. 
Or he thought it would.
“Hey, Cheol?” you call from the door.
“Yeah?”
“I forgot my clothes. Can you bring them to me?”
“Ugh, yeah.” Seungcheol scrambles for the pile of clean pajamas at the corner of the bed, snatching them up and stepping closer to the door that separates you. “Here.”
Mind caught on other things – like not remember that he caught a glimpse of you make last night, barely a second, no real detail except creamy skin and details his brained filled in on its own accord to his own chagrin – Seungcheol trips over his own feet and slams into the piece of wood head first.
The only thing stopping the door from flying straight into the wall is you.
“Shit!” you exclaim following a ricocheting ‘thump.’ “What the fuck, Cheol?”
Clutching his forehead, Seungcheol is oblivious to the tangle of limbs you’ve both collapsed into. 
“Fuck, sorry.” He blinks against the stark brightness of the overhead light. You’re clutching at your face, hands cupped around your nose and eyes filled with tears. “Here let me see.”
Your eyes crack open enough to glare at him, narrow and rimmed red. As if he didn’t feel awful enough.
Without a second thought, he strokes across the curve of your knee soothingly. “I won’t touch it, I just wanna make sure it isn’t broken.”
A hand shakenly falls away to unveil your perfectly fine nose. Seungcheol tips your chin up, moving in for a closer look just in case. But everything is fine. You’re not even bleeding, just a runny nose that definitely hurts worse than it looks. 
The initial rush of panic ebbs only to be replaced with awareness. Seungcheol is kneeling between your legs, your towel is definitely too short, and the beads of water caught on your collarbone are down right taunting him. He needs to get away.
Now.
“Oh my god,” he gasps, moving back.
Your face morphs into horror at his tone. “What?”
“You’ve got a huge bat in the cave.” Seungcheol rises to his feet, offering you a hand up while ignoring the way your chest struggles against the tie of the towel as you come to your feet as well.
“Fuck you,” you laugh, pushing him away. “Give me my clothes and get the fuck out.”
Seungcheol does just that. As the lock latches back he’s left alone with nothing but thoughts of you.
He remembers. That night you two have never spoken about. And probably would never discuss even under the threat of life and limb. A drunk kiss, in the stuffy bar that didn’t care if your IDs were fake as long as you had money.
Seungcheol remembers the way you felt in his lap, the taste of your mouth, the breathy whine against his lips when he first pulled away from the kiss. Maybe that last detail was a hallucination but it felt real. The heat of your body haunted Seungcheol for the week after it happened. 
Not even Jeonghan knew about it. 
And he’d rather die than open that can of worms. The first time Seungcheol had a crush on you in high school, he swallowed those feelings and never let them see the light of day. Because you’re his best friend, his longest friend, and if it was between the risk of losing you from his feelings (that he was certain would fade eventually despite the fact they never have) or keeping you in his life, then he’d stay silent if it killed him.
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It’s your turn to disappear the next morning. You’re side of the bed is long cooled by the time Seungcheol’s alarm goes off, a piece of him gone with it. 
His dreams hadn’t helped. A faceless woman, not even sounds or sights or tangible things he could identify. But he knows the feeling. That alluring warmth of a body firm against his own, the kind that leaves him aching when he wants up. Seungcheol knows it's you. It’s the same images that have plagued his subconscious since adolescence when he’d wake up to messy boxers and the inability to look you in the face for days after.
Feelings he’s long suppressed came out last night. Seeing you in the window, in the bathroom, it’s all too much. And now it chases him into sleep; the one place he thought he might have peace.
Luckily your absence means there's no awkward explanation of why he’s hard. The trip to the bathroom is more of dejected desperation than eager need. Seungcheol hops into the shower and takes care of it, careful to keep his thought as abstract as possible or risk you popping up in his fantasy. Dreaming about you is damning enough. He doesn’t need to add to the guilt weighing on his conscience.
The rhythm of the water lulls his brain into a cycle. He can’t do this. He can’t go another minute 
He can’t even survive Jeonghan’s wedding. How he will sit through yours with a grin will be a true test of his acting ability.
But that is future Seungcheol’s problem. Right now he needs to get through today and then tomorrow and after that he’ll be on a plane back home where he can ruminate in the isolated confines of his apartment. 
He just needs to focus on one thing at a time. 
Right now, it’s getting downstairs in the next ten minutes or risk losing tee time with Jeonghan and the other groomsmen. 
There’s only two people he’d ever turn to in a time like this, except he can’t talk to either of them because one is the problem and the other is getting married in a few hours. The last thing Jeonghan needs is to hear about an issue between his two best friends.
Which is why he’s the first to pick up Seungcheol’s mood. 
“You look like shit,” Jeonghan greets. 
The other mill about the kitchen, snagging leftover pastries and fruit. Usually Seungcheol is the first to show up, not the last. But Soonyoung still seems to be missing.
“Thanks.” 
“Rough night?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Well if you’re tired you can always join the girls at the spa.” Jeonghan offers. “Sofie said they’re doing mud baths.”
The wedding isn’t until this afternoon leaving the entire morning free. So the boys play golf while the girls go soak in mud.
“That sounds…horrible.”
“I know,” Jeonghan nods. “Alright gentlemen, let's head out.”
Seungcheol eats shit the entire morning. He usually scores around seventy five but he’s destined to break well over a hundred today and even Jeonghan pretends he doesn’t notice. 
“Do you ever think about why nothing happened between you and Y/N?” Jeonghan asks right as Seungcheol prepares to swing.
Kicking a man when he’s down is more of a guideline for his best friend rather than something to avoid.
Seungcheol’s shot flies wide, straight into a fairway bunker a good thirty yards behind everyone else’s ball. He watches for another solid minute, deflating.  “No.” 
“If you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.” Jeonghan chides, setting up his own tee.
“I’m not lying.”
“Humor me. It’s my wedding day and I’m trying not to freak out.” 
“You’re freaked out?” 
“Dude, of course I’m freaked out. We’ve never gone more than a few hours without talking since we started dating and I haven’t seen her since last night. So just let me focus on something else,” Jeonghan sighs.
Seungcheol thinks about his next words wisely. Jeonghan can smell bullshit a thousand miles away, and playing mind games right now feels a little unfair. “I don’t wonder why nothing happened anymore.” 
“Lying again but whatever.”  Jeonghan grabs for his drive and lines up the shot.
“Why are you asking?” 
“I don’t know. Everyone thought you two would end up together eventually and then you didn’t. I’ve got a lot of people asking and I wanted an official response because you’re not exactly subtle and she isn’t stupid.”
Jeonghan’s shot lands square on the first cut, fifty yards ahead of Seungcheol’s ball. 
“Yeah, well.” Seungcheol huffs. “If she noticed, she never said anything.”
“Okay but did you ever say anything?” 
Jeonghan hands his club over to his catty before they start towards their respective zones. Seungcheol and his friend trailing behind.
Seungcheol argues. “You just said I wasn’t subtle?”
“You aren’t,” Jeonghan snorts. “But Y/N is about as impressionable as rock.”
“Did you think something was gonna happen?”
Seungcheol reaches his ball first. All the other guys are further ahead but Jeonghan sticks by.
“No.” Jeonghan says. “But I know you kissed her.”
Seungcheol turns to the other man, mouth gaped in shock. “How the fuck did you know that? Did she tell you?”
“I KNEW IT.” Jeonghan points at him like a little kid tattling on his friend. “ I fucking knew it! Sofie owes me fifty bucks.”
“What?”
“Y/N is a better liar than you, I’ll give her that but I knew something was off that first week I came to visit. I knew you didn’t have the balls to sleep with her so I must have been something else.”
Jeonghan asked you if you remember the kiss. Jeonghan and Sofie know you kissed. You remember the kiss. But you never said anything. If that doesn’t solidify Seungcheol firmly in the friendzone then nothing else would.
“You made a bet with your fiancée on whether your best friends kissed or not?” Seungcheol shakes his head in disbelief.
“You’ll understand when you have a successful relationship.” Jeonghan touts.
The catty hands over Seungcheol’s driver. He looks about Seungcheol’s age, maybe younger, and by the look on his face he’s trying very hard to pretend he isn’t listening to the unfolding drama. 
Another person to witness how hopeless he is. Great.
“It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake.”
“You never know,”  Jeonghan shrugs, following his catty further up the fairway and ending the conversation.
Back at the house, you’re nowhere to be seen while Seungcheol showers and changes. It’s for the best. No sleep, a horrible golf game, and now all the feelings that returned over the weekend have left him with nothing but a foul mood. 
Every step is dragged out so he doesn’t have to pretend you two are fine. He can’t afford another blow out right now because today is meant to be for Jeonghan and Sofie. Even if Jeonghan thought he should talk about it, Seungcheol couldn’t do it anymore. He wouldn’t do it anymore. But the time it takes leaves his head spinning out of control.
You’re pretending nothing is wrong. Cuddling up to him, calling him your husband. You nearly kissed him. You would’ve if he didn’t stop you. You always said cheating was worse than heartbreak but now here you are, capitalizing on his feelings for whatever satisfaction you selfishly crave; using Seungcheol to hurt your fiancé in secret. Who you seem dedicated to pretending doesn’t exist. 
It’s a nasty cycle. Feeling used, disbelief of who you’ve turned into in months away, that piece of him that always craved something more with you flowering only to wilt because it’s not real. 
You don’t want Seungcheol.
You never have.
The wedding party gathers outside the church. Sofie is tucked away in a private room until her grand entrance. She wanted everyone to be surprised, leaving her bridesmaids to mingle with the groomsmen until it was time to for the ceremony to start.
The lavender bridesmaid dress is nothing special. A tie at the top keeps the entire thing up, the front void of any details. The open back adds a flash of skin but other than that there isn’t much to it. But you’re wearing it and Seungcheol can feel his heart jerk as the fabric flows around your curves. The universe is taunting him with what he’ll never have.
He doesn’t stare despite the fact that every time he blinks his gaze automatically searches for you. It’s hard to ignore the only person he sees in a crowded room. Even if he’s pissed at you.
You excuse yourself from Seokmin, creeping over to where Seungcheol stands with a grin. “You clean up nice.”
“Thanks,” he nods.
“Is something wrong?’ 
A shot of annoyance flashes through him. Now is not the place. Last time he felt like this, you two got in a screaming match on a snowy sidewalk. “No.”
You shake your head, hand coming to rest on his arm in an act of comfort. “Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting weird.”
Betrayed by his own body. Half of him wants to get on the next flight home and block your number so he can forget all of this. It wouldn’t work. The times tried anything remotely of the sort only leave him in circling thoughts day and night.
The other half of him wants to wrap you in his arms and take whatever you're willing to give him. The half that could act like Johnny didn’t exist, at least not in this little bubble where nothing else exists but you and him. Because he's selfish and he’s been in love with you for years and he would never expect something in return for his feelings but he can’t take it any more.
But he can’t pretend anymore.
Pretending he’s never been jealous of your boyfriends, and that the night in college when you kissed meant nothing. That it didn’t flood his brain everytime he looked at you; that it didn’t leave more questions than answers. He’s been pretending everything has been fine, that seeing you asleep on his chest doesn’t make his heart hurt, and that he was stronger than the temptation to kiss you last night.
He remembers that night with clarity despite how drunk he was. Thought it meant you felt the same way he had for years.
“Cheers to finally being adults!” you scream, tequila shot raised over head.
Seungcheol laughs. Nothing is that funny but he’s nineteen and drunk in a dingy college bar with his best friend . “Adults!”
Someone passes by and knocks you forward, straight into Seungcheol's chest where you keep laughing as you look up at him.
You’re close. Closer than ever before. He could count all your eyelashes if there weren’t four of you floating in his vision. But Seungcheol doesn’t need to see clearly. Not when you’re already kissing him.
He’s kissing you.
It’s sloppy and drunk but his brain doesn’t think in big picture. It’s all feeling. Your hand in his shirt, a sweet sigh against his chin when you break away for a second just to come right back. Your mouth tastes like alcohol and lime and he’s never had anything better sweep across his tongue.
Thank god for the booth because you’re in his lap now, grinding against the seam of his jeans until he’s hard and when you finally realize you say his name.
And then Seungcheol pulls away, turns his head, and vomits before blacking out.
He hates that he thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time. What if? But there’s no more what ifs. There's only right now. Just you and him and the widening space in between that's become unnavigable. 
“I’m acting weird? I’m not the one rubbing herself all over me, calling me her husband to strangers, and trying to kiss me.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I can’t believe you would do something like this. Why would you put me in this position? Do you think it’s funny?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m happy for you, really. I just think it’s best if we don’t talk for a while. I think you need to sort things out with your fiance.”
Now that seems to get your attention. “Seungcheol, what—”
The music swells from the organ inside, cueing the ceremony and effectively silencing your questions. 
Good. It’s better that way. Seungcheol is weak for you in all the ways that matter and he knows if he had to stand there for another minute then your hurt expression is all it would take for him to fold and pretend he never said anything.
You join the other bridesmaids and Seungcheol ducks inside the church after the wedding planner opens the doors. One by one the other groomsmen walk in: Joshua, Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and finally Seokmin. Each line up further down Jeonghan’s side. Then the bridesmaids follow. 
Sofie’s cousin, who Seungcheol met once, glides down the aisle followed by another taller cousin who looks nearly identical. Then it’s Sofie’s roommate from college, Mona who Josh had been trying to get with all weekend.
You walk up the aisle, a smile plastered on your face but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You won’t look in his direction. 
Everything is slipping through his fingers and you both have to pretend they aren’t.
Everyone turns to watch Maria, and then Sofie. But the only person Seungcheol is paying attention to is you. 
The ceremony flies by. Sofie cries, Jeonghan cries. 
Sofie cries even harder when Jeonghan recites his vows in Italian. It’s odd, watching his two friends who usually are the couple laughing in the corner, be so vulnerable. Declaring their love for each other in front of a few hundred people.
“Sofie, sin dal primo momento in cui ti ho incontrata, sapevo che ti avrei voluta nella mia vita per sempre. Che tu mi amassi o odiassi, per me andava bene, perché significava che avresti pensato a me tanto quanto io pensavo a te. Mi hai dato il privilegio di chiamarti mia, e non posso aspettare di farlo per il resto delle nostre vite.”
Six months of using Seungcheol as practice, along with Sofie’s cousin, and he sounds decent. Jeonghan wouldn’t win any awards for his language skills but everyone’s faces melt around the room. Even the people that don’t know a word of what he’s say can feel the earnest dedication he has to Sofie. Even Seungcheol gets misty eyed.
“Io, Jeonghan, prendo te, Sofie, come mia sposa e prometto di esserti fedele sempre, nella gioia e nel dolore, nella salute e nella malattia, e di amarti e onorarti tutti i giorni della mia vita.”
“I, Sofie, take you, Jeonghan, as my husband and promise to be faithful to you always, in joy and in pain, in health and in sickness, and to love you and every day honor you, for the rest of my life.”
Then they kiss and Sofie screams something along the lines of “we’re married, bitches!” much to the priest demise before exiting the church. 
From there it’s chaos. 
The entire wedding party is corralled for endless pictures while everyone else heads back to the villa for the reception. You don’t look at him and Seungcheol refuses to acknowledge you until your parents are forcing you two together for awkward pictures like its high school prom.
By the time it’s over and he gets to the reception, the party is in full swing and the sun is setting.
Dinner is a blur. He makes his toast, short and sweet like Jeonghan told him to. The night progresses and people flood the cleared area serving as a makeshift dance floor in the center of the courtyard.
Seungcheol sips his wine. Three glasses in an hour because he isn’t sure what to do with his hands when his obligatory dance with Maria is over and he’s avoided being dragged on the floor by one of Sofie’s more zealous aunts because she herself demands a dance.
“How does it feel to be Mrs. Yoon?”
Sofie turns to watch Jeonghan twirls her great grandmother. Or more like Nonna Cosima leads him. She’s surprisingly spry for someone pushing triple digits. “I think he’s gonna be a great first husband.”
His gaze settles on you, Seokmin leading you across the floor in a ridiculous fashion. The younger man is trying hard to make you laugh and it seems to be working.
“She thinks you’re mad at her,” Sofie says.
“Maybe I am.”
“Care to share with the class?” She prods but Seungcheol doesn’t break, using the ending of the song to find a table at the edge of the makeshift dance floor. “Fine, but I feel like if you’re gonna pout at my wedding I should at least know why. Especially because I owe Han fifty bucks because you can’t lie to save your life.”
Seungcheol is mad. But mostly at himself. For tricking himself into thinking maybe, just maybe, there could be something more. That in all the improbable universes you returned his feelings, this would be one. 
And he did all that knowing you’re dedicated to someone else who is so entirely wrong for you.
“What did she tell you?” Seungcheol asks. 
“That’s not how this works. No pay, no play.”
He studies Sofie for a minute. She’s good at keeping her cards close but she knows about you and Johnny. It wouldn’t be a far leep to assume she knows about everything else.
“God, you sound like Jeonghan.”
“Have you and Y/N talked? Like, really talked, since you got here?” There's a weight at the end of that sentence but Sofie doesn’t elaborate. 
“Care to be more specific?” he asks, grabbing for another glass.
“I’ll take that as a no then.” Sofie takes the seat beside him.
His chest tightens. This is it. 
“About her and Johnny?”
“So she did say something…” Sofie fishes.
“No she didn’t. But I heard you guys in the kitchen the night I got in.”
“You did?” she gasps. “And you didn’t say anything to her about it?”
His jaw ticks in annoyance. “What’s there to say? ‘Congrats on your engagement, you’re too good for him’? I don’t think that's what she’d wa—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Sofie throws her hands up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. All around the party continues. “You think Y/N is engaged? To who?”
“Johnny! Who else?”
Her drink sloshes over the sides of her wine glass, narrowly missing the white gown and falling to the cobblestone. “Oh my god, you’re an idiot!”
“Excuse me?”
“She’s not engaged, you dipshit,” she goes on. “Oh my god, you’re both so stupid. I told Han, I told him we should’ve said something.”
“What?” he says quietly.
Sofie continues as if Seungcheol hasn’t spoken at all, “I can’t believe she hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?”
“She broke up with him!”
She broke up with him. She (you) broke up with him (Johnny). You and Johnny are done. It’s like he’s hearing the news from underwater.
“She broke up with him.” He repeats dumbly.
Someone cheers and then applause follows but Seungcheol is lost in his mind. You and Johnny aren’t engaged. You two aren’t even dating. Haven’t been. 
“When?”
Sofie’s face softens. She knows. The first time he introduced you to Sofie she assumed you two were dating. She didn’t like Johnny for a lot of the same reasons Seungcheol did, but also because she thought you two were meant to be together. “A week after she moved.”
That phone call the week after you moved. It must’ve been something to do with you and Johnny. But why didn’t you answer messages the next morning? Why would you break up with Johnny and then refuse to tell him? Why would you let Seungcheol think he was being used as the other man?
“So this entire week…”
“She was supposed to tell you. I told her to tell you months ago but does she listen to me? Nope.”
“Do you know why?”
“Now that is something she needs to tell you.” Seungcheol looks where you're dancing with Seokmin. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes but you laugh when the man dips you almost to the floor and struggles to lift you back up. “But first you need to apologize.”
“Is it that bad?”
“When I imagined someone crying at my wedding it wasn’t because of you.”
Seungcheol winces, “She cried?”
“Yep. You owe me a nice ass wedding gift for that one.”
“Sofie, I’m sorry I—” he tries to apologize. 
“Cheol, don’t worry about it.” She pats his arm. “It was actually a nice distraction from the insanity this week.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“It really is.” Sofie rises from the table, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my husband owes me a dance. And Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
“You should tell her how you feel.”
Seungcheol takes his chance at Sofie’s departure. With the change in music Seokmin bows out and you're left on the dance floor alone. Cast in the soft glow of garden lights and candles, you’re tragically beautiful. Soft around the edges in a dreamy haze. Seungcheol feels like he’s intruding by approaching you but he needs to apologize before you both return to your separate corners of the country tomorrow night.
“Hey,” he greets.
You look at him apprehensively, eyes dark, before speaking. “Hi.”
You’re just as petty as Seungcheol so he knows if you’re speaking to him then there's some kind of hope he hasn’t completely ruined your friendship. But it could also mean you’re about to rip him a new one in front of everyone for not the first time in his life.
Hopefully, it’s the former.
“Mind a walk?”
“We’re at a wedding.”
Jeonghan and Sofie curl tightly around each other at the center of the courtyard. It’s clear from the way both their faces soften, lax grins reaching their ears, that the world has stopped spinning just for them.
“I’m pretty sure we could light them on fire right now and they wouldn’t notice. Besides, Sofie gave me her blessing,” he jokes but you don’t laugh.
“Fine,” you say before stalking towards one of the paths leading to more secluded parts of the house.
People drape across different parts of the villa as you two walk in silence to find some privacy. The gardens are full of chatting elders, kids running around in the dark or falling asleep in some adults' holds. After ten minutes with no luck at seclusion, Seungcheol has half a mind to go back to your room and talk it out but he doesn’t. The idea itself freezes his blood.
It’s not until you're deeper into the maze of shrubs and bushes that the voices and music fade. The silence is so tense he might shatter under the pressure.
You whip around to face him, still five paces ahead. 
“What did you want to talk about?” you deadpan.
Seungcheol thought through every thing he wanted to say, all the questions and whys and what ifs he’d collected during this trip but they abandoned him now that they have the chance to be answered. Instead, all that comes out of him is a shaky,  “I’m sorry.”
You wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t. He’s apologizing for more than he could put in words and he’d list them off until the sun comes up if he starts now.
“Okay. Is that all?” you ask.
“Sofie told me about Johnny.”
You blanche. “She did?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“What did she tell you?” your arms draw tightly around your center. Like you’re holding your heart from spilling out your chest. 
Seungcheol regurgitates the limited facts Sofie shared, which is that Johnny hasn’t been in the picture for months and you never deemed him worthy of that information.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I tried. But you didn’t answer your phone and I felt so stupid afterwards and… I just couldn’t do it.”
It hits a nerve deep in his heart. How could it have been easier to spend months pretending he didn’t exist then tell him your relationship ended? More anger slips through. The nasty kind that makes him say things he doesn’t mean but Seungcheol tries to reign it in.
“So you just ignored me and thought that’d solve all our problems?” 
“No!’
“Then why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I moved cities for a guy I didn’t even like that much! I changed my entire life for him just to prove a point. Because you were right about him and I was wrong and only took a fucking week to realize that after I screwed everything up. I should have listened to you but—”
“So you lied to me because you didn't want me to say ‘I told you so’?” Seungcheol fumes. “Are you serious?”
“I didn’t lie to you!” you object.
“Yes you did! You stopped talking to me for months! Months. I can’t even remember we went a week without talking but you dropped off the face of the planet,” he rants. “I thought you were happy in New York with Johnny but apparently I’m the last to know anything. If you had just told me I wouldn’t have said anything. I would have gone up there and moved you back home myself.”
“I don’t want you to fix my mistakes!”
“Then what do you want? Because from where I’m standing I have no idea. All week you’ve been acting weird and because you didn’t tell me I thought you were using me to cheat on your boyfriend. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I didn’t mean to. Things just kept happening and I got swept up before I could tell you.”
Seungcheol was nothing more than a meaningless distraction, a rebound.
“So it didn’t mean anything to you?” he asks.
“No!” you cry. “I was just distracted.”
“Distracted? Are you serious?”
“You know what? Forget it. You don’t want to listen to me, you just want to be mad and yell.”
You’re right. Seungcheol does want to be mad and yell and pull his own hair out because what you’re saying isn’t helping untangle the knotted mess of his brain. It’s making it worse. Your confessions are watering that seed of hope in his chest despite the fact he knows nothing will ever happen. Even with Johnny out of the picture.
“Why did you break up with Johnny?”
“I—” Your eyes close. Pulled tight like you’re finding the courage to tell Seungcheol some dark secret. “He…” you swallow. “I broke up with him because…”
Seungcheol tenses, prepared for the absolute worst. You moved your entire life for the guy and broke up with him a handful of days later. There had to be a reason. “Because why? Did he do something?”
“No!” you correct. “I wish he did, I probably wouldn’t have felt like such a bitch but he didn’t do anything at all. I just realized we didn’t work.”
“You didn’t ‘work’?”
I told you so, indeed.
“Yeah. It’s kinda difficult to be with someone when you're in love with someone else,” you reply.
Suddenly, Seungcheol wishes he never brought it up. Another guy. One that isn’t him. Again. He’s the other man. Those gut feelings, the nagging voice at the back of his head that reminded him time and time again you couldn’t feel the same has its own ‘I told you so’ moment.
But that’s not what makes him feel horrible. He’d suffer from overthinking as long as needed just so you wouldn’t look so ashamed. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Seugncheol waits for you to elaborate. More silence except for the crunch of your shoes across the stone walkway. A bench comes into view and you slip into one of the spots before speaking again.
“I…I always wondered why those dates never worked out. Like, I would like someone but then they didn’t want the same things or they’d want the same things but I didn’t want them. And I guess Johnny was my last ditch effort because maybe if I knew from the beginning things weren’t gonna work out then I’d never be disappointed.”
Seungcheol isn’t sure what to say so he stays quiet.
“And I thought I could just live with it. Knowing I didn’t have what Jeonghan and Sofie have. Like who actually gets that in their life? But…”
“But?”
“But then I realized that there was only one guy my whole life that’s actually been everything I wanted and I was comparing everyone to him.”
“Who?”
“You.”
Him. You’ve compared every guy you’ve dated to him. He’s the person you want, the man you’ve measured everyone up to and found them wanting.
You’re in love with Seungcheol. You broke up with your boyfriend for Seungcheol.
You love him back.
“It’s fine, if you don’t feel that way about me. I’m okay with it. I wasn’t planning to tell you because I expected anything. I just… part of the reason I didn’t say anything is I know you don’t think about me like that but this week I thought— I don’t know what I thought. But I didn’t want to lie to you anymore.”
“You…what?”
“Let’s just agree to pretend this never happened, okay? We should get back to the party.” You move to rush past him but Seungcheol hooks an arm around your torso, light enough you could break through if you really wanted to but you stop all the same.
There is no way in hell you drop that bomb on him and leave him to deal with the aftermath alone.
His voice is unrecognizable to his own ears. “You broke up with Johnny because of me?”
“Yeah,” you swallow. You refuse to look at him, focusing on the neatly clipped grass your heels sink into.
“Because you’re in love with me.” 
You flounder. It isn’t a question. It’s a fact.
“How long?” Seungcheol presses.
“What?”
“How long have you been in love with me?”
“It's always been you.”
Seungcheol’s heart detonates into a million pieces.
“You?” His pulse is sprinting. You’re in love with him. Have been. Maybe as long as he’s been in love with. Impossible for it to be longer because there's no moment in time when Seungcheol didn’t carry his feelings for you like an old friend. “You didn’t say anything.”
Your eyes are wet again, more tears he wants to brush away but he can’t do anything but stare. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“You wouldn’t have,” he whispers back.
“What's supposed to mean?”
Your nose brushes along his, eyes soft as you glance at his mouth. 
Seungcheol won’t let himself kiss you yet. He can’t. The first time he feels your lips on his in years has to be in private because he shakes at the idea of it, a part of him chips away from just imagining even the most chaste brush. But mostly because he’s terrified that once he starts, he knows he won’t be able to stop.
“Do you remember that night in college?” he asks. You’re stunned speechless by the abrupt shift in topic but the words fall out of his mouth before he can think of a better way to say what needs to be said. He continues, “when we did a million shots and you kissed me?”
You snap back, slapping a hand on his chest and nearly teetering to the ground. “You bitch! You kissed me!”
“So you do remember!”
“Of course I remember,” you declare. “I thought you didn’t remember.”
You remember. You remember how his mouth tasted, how you ground into his lap, the feeling of his hands on your ass. All of it sticks with you like it stuck to him.
“Trust me, I remember.”
“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” you huff.
“I was going to but you told me you started dating whatever-his-name before I could.”
“Because I thought you didn’t like me back!”
“I’ve liked you since the first day I met you.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“You should’ve said something.” The admonishment means nothing. Not with the way you smile at him. It makes his heart soar, hope bursting at the seams. 
“I didn’t even know you realized I was a dude until college, why would I say something?”
“Trust me, I knew you were a guy way before college.”
“And we’re back to the original question: why didn’t you say anything?”
It's ridiculous. Utterly comical and unimportant of who said what when because they’re being said now and Seungcheol never has to pretend he isn’t hopelessly in love with you ever again.
You cozy up into his chest, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Wow, barely five minutes we’re already fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.” His lips burn the word into your hairline, arms wrapping around your frame so his fingers can finally, finally, trace the bared skin of your back.
“Oh really?” You laugh. “Then what are we doing, oh wise one?”
“We’re having a spirited conversation over the fact you kissed me and never said anything.”
“And now we’re fighting over whether or not we’re fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.”
“You’re exhausting.” Your eyes roll. He can’t see it, not with how you duck into his neck, but he knows you did it. Because Seungcheol knows you better than anyone else.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“And you kissed me.”
“Well then there's only one way to settle this.”
“Which is?”
Seungcheol doesn’t answer. If Jeonghan could be lit on fire and not think of anyone but his wife, then the world could fall to dust and the only thing on Seungcheol’s mind is the way your mouth feels against his.
It’s light at first. Airy because you’re both still laughing over arguing if you’re fighting or not. But then Seungcheol loses his balance and you help by curling a hand around his shoulder but refuse to stop kissing him and the world blinks out of existence for a second.
All the cliches start making sense. Two halves of a whole, puzzle pieces slipping together, all the things poets could say in a million more eloquent ways than him.
But Seungcheol feels at home for the first time in his life.
It’s not easy maneuvering a full grown woman up and into his lap. It’s especially not easy because you’re you and you’re more stubborn than anyone he’s met in his life which means you object to every step, huff and puff at a brief second of broken contact, but the second he spins you around and drags over his lap you melt.
Your tongue glides along his, sending a tsunami of want through his bones. You whimper. Or maybe he does. Seungcheol can’t tell what's up and what's down right now. He finds the open back of your dress and relishes in the arch of your spine, the choppy breath he can feel beneath his palms.
The silk bow holding your dress up teases his hand as Seungcheol traces the notches of your spine. No one would see. No one except him and the moon and the stars who’ve all stopped to watch. He wants to. God, he wants to but he doesn’t.
You tug at his hair and your name floods his tongue like a curse. 
Draped across his lap in nothing but thin satin, you can feel all of him. How his cock hardens against the back of your thighs, shaky breathes in his lungs wrecking into your own chest. You're not wearing a bra. None of that tape or the sticky thing you’d leave hanging in the bathroom when you lived together. Seungcheol knows because he thumbs over the soft swell of your chest and you respond with a rock of hips that leaves his mouth watering.
The last time he kissed you, that fateful night freshman year of college, Seungcheol thought about it every night for months. He thought about it in the shower, in his bed. His mind would wander towards the memory during class and when he walked around campus.
Now he’ll think about this for the rest of his life.
A shrieking laugh almost sends you to the ground in haste to break away, but Seungcheol catches you in time. 
“Um…” you choke. Your lips are swollen, eyes a little dazed.
“We should go back inside.”
“Yeah.”
“Just, give me a minute.”
“Why?” Your smile grows steadily as you press more firmly into his predicament.
“I have an issue right now.”
“What kind of issue, Cheolie?” you stare at him through your lashes, finger tracing down the front of his shirt until you reach the button of his pants.
“Oh God,” he grunts as the heel of your hand rocks into him. “You’re actually evil.”
Your lips trace over his jaw, sucking and nipping at the lobe of his ear until he shudders. “Don’t you want me?” 
“I do,” he breaths. “Shit.”
His hand squeezes across your ass, your breasts, mindful of how much freedom you’re giving him. To feel you like this, to touch you the way he’s wanted to for years. 
“Then have me,” you moan. 
“Don’t say stuff like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to fuck you right here.”
“But I do want you to fuck me.” Your hand is in his pants. “Right.” A tight squeeze on his cock. “Here.” He ruts into the next one.
His insides spark with a hot kind of electricity at the idea of you jerking him off where anyone could see. But he wants to touch you. And that he doesn’t want anyone else to even imagine. He’s shared you enough with the world. 
Seungcheol wants a piece of you that's just for him right now.
“Fuck, okay. Stop.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re going back inside.”
“Oh?”
Seungcheol doesn’t give into your obvious goading. It’ll just waste more time. Give you another chance to wring him out to dry and he knows if you get his pants down far enough it’s game over for the both of you. 
He rushes you through the garden, all but dragging you behind him in his haste to get you somewhere secluded. He’d settle for a broom closet at this point. Anywhere he can have you alone.
But you won’t go down without a fight.
You slow to a near stop, whining, “My feet hurt.”
Seungcheol leads you back over another stone bench, immediately kneeling and grabbing your ankle. The pebbles of the path dig into his knee but the slit of silk revealing your bare legs is a good distraction.
“Alright, Cinderella. Let’s get these off,” he jokes. The buckle is delicate and keeps slipping from between his fingers no thanks to your help.
“I can do it myself!”
You try to kick him off but Seungcheol catches your calf easily. Instead of focusing on the teasing stretch of skin, he watches the way your nose wrinkles indignantly after thwarting your attempt to catch him off guard. You’re cute. Probably because he’s in love with you and the rush from knowing you love him back has him feeling a million miles tall.
“Cheol?”
“Yeah?”
Pulling your foot into his lap, Seungcheol brushed his fingers against the knob of your ankle. The tiny buckle that refuses to come undone. Your shaking doesn’t help much.
“Cold?” he asks.
You nod furiously. Warmth hangs in the air but Seungcheol won’t assume your comfort; the silk you're wrapped in doesn’t provide much coverage against the elements. It doesn’t provide him any protection from a wild imagination fueled from years of pining. Without a thought, he shakes off his jacket and hands it to you before moving back to your shoe.
Looming over him, Seungcheol feels your breath hit his forehead. He wants to look up but you’re too close. Too tempting. 
He finally undoes one shoe, then the other. But you don’t say anything and neither does he from his spot between your legs. It’d be easy. So easy to bunch your skirt around your waist, part your legs, and make you cum on his finger. Then his mouth. Then his cock.
You’re thinking the same thing. A hiccup of breath rustling the hair on his forehead, your hands stroking the muscles of his neck give you away. 
But when he starts, he knows he won’t be able to start. He’ll want nothing less than all of you. Give all of himself to you. If you’ll have him.
But a hard stone bench isn’t the place to worship your body the way you deserve. He’d be a gentleman. Even if it killed him to wait any longer. You were worth waiting for. Seungcheol would wait a million more lifetimes if he got to feel like this again.
No shoes means he’s carrying you the rest of the way. He’s done it before and you’re not that heavy but he’s been drinking. And then there's the matter of all the blood in his body heading south, so he struggles more than usual.
“You’re sure you’ve got it?” you cling on for dear life when he nearly stumbles under the first step.
“Sorry, I haven’t been carrying a lot of full grown women around lately.”
“I thought you were looking a little small,” you goad.
“Small?” he objects.
“Yeah, small.” You squeeze over his biceps and his chest like you two aren’t sneaking around a packed mansion where anyone could stumble by. His resolve slips further out of reach at the dig of your nails. “Been skipping the gym lately?”
He feigns dropping you, laughing when you scramble for hold under threat of falling flat on your ass.
“Asshole!” you laugh.
Things fizzle back to comfortable silence. Your companions are far off laughs and the loud music from the courtyard. The garden is all but abandoned, not a single soul in sight. It makes it all too tempting to find another bench and take up what was interrupted earlier. The heat of your breath against his ear with each giggled whisper didn’t help. Neither did the warm weight of your thighs in his hold or the firm press of your chest against his back. 
It’s a mistake to look over his shoulder. Your eyes shine in the moonlight as you stare back, a smile lifting the corner of your lips.
Seungcheol focuses back on the hallway, double checking for any passersby. There’s nothing indecent about a man giving a woman a tipsy piggy back ride. 
But there is something entirely inappropriate about how hard he is while doing so.
And Seungcheol knows you know. Or if you don’t then the universe has a personal investment in his suffering. Every step is more difficult than the last because your thighs squeeze around his torso, and your hands find their way down his chest, and then there’s the giggling every time he back tracks because a drunken guest stumbles by on the way to their own room.
You’re sneaking around like two idiot teenagers and it might kill him from lack of blood to his brain.
But Seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.
He pauses at the last staircase to catch his breath. There’s no reason you’re still on his back other than the fact he doesn’t want to let you go and the position is the only reason he hasn’t found a dark corner to do whatever you please yet.
“Awww poor Seungcheol, tired already,” you coo. 
Your teasing tone makes his blood boil, worse how you readjust your hold with more squeeze and stretching that leaves him with nothing but horribly inappropriate thoughts of what you’ll do after he gets up the stairs.
Finally, the hallway housing your room appears and he can’t get through the door fast enough. 
You're pressed flat between the door and his body in a blink, fully at Seungcheol’s mercy as he kisses you again. 
“Wait,” you mutter.
Seungcheol sucks along your bottom lip. You pull him closer, arching into his chest. Your stomach is soft against the gentle grinds of his cock. He doesn’t want to wait anymore.
“We—hmmm,” you sigh. “Need to talk about this.” 
Seungcheol pulls away from your mouth, trailing scorching kisses down your neck that leave you shivering. “What about it? I love you, you love me. Feels like that's all there is to it.” 
The second he says it, Seungcheol knows he’s wrong. But he doesn’t want to think about the fine details. He’s never done long distance but you’re only a train ride away. 
“Cheol.” You prod a finger into his collarbone until he dips back.
“I mean it’ll suck being in different cities but it’s not forever right? We’ll figure it out.”
You dip your chin. “I’m not staying in New York.”
“Oh. That’s—” he cups your cheek, pulling your gaze to his. “I’ll go wherever you need me.”
You smile up at him and everything goes blank. In that moment, he vows to do anything you ever ask if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that.
“I’m moving back to D.C.” You kiss the words into his palm, eyes never leaving his.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You smile. “Sofie’s friend needed a roommate and my job agreed to let me go remote so…”
“When do you move back?”
“Two months. They want to wait until the busy season is over.”
“But then you’re back. For good?”
“For good.”
It feels like you're promising a whole lot more.. 
You have Seungcheol for good too. As long as you want him, he’s yours. Probably for long after too. 
He’s so happy, it burns across his skin. It can’t be contained. This is all real. He fights the urge to pinch himself because not even in the wildest of his dreams did he think this was possible. 
"When you come back home.” Home he thinks. Home with him. Where you belong. “We're going on a date. And you're going to let me pay, and woo you, and take care of you because I love you. Okay?”
Your hands twine around his shoulders before you respond with a nod, “Okay.”
In the privacy of your room, you’re the one that tugs the knot holding your dress up. The silk slips down your chest revealing inch after inch of what he’s only dreamed off. When it pools around your waist, Seungcheol almost falls to his knees.
You shiver in the cool bedroom air. His eyes drink in the way your nipples peek under his gaze. Every inhale shakes in your lungs and he thinks this might just be enough for him to die peacefully. The silk trickles like water down your figure until you're left standing in nothing but skimpy panties.
“Fuck,” he curses.
Your hands flash to cover your chest, “What?”
“No, don’t,” Seungcheol reassures. His hands find yours, tracing along your thumb. “You’re just…”
“Just?” you ask.
“Wow.”
“I’m wow?” you laugh. 
Seungcheol takes another step into your space. And then another and another, your dress crumbling to the floor and leaving behind nothing but the thin band of your underwear for him to remove. Your knees hit the mattress and he follows you down into the cushion.
You're soft and warm like afternoon sunlight on a winter day under his wandering hands.
“You’re wow,” he responds, angling your chin so your mouth can meet his, noses grazing against one another.
You don’t have the patience to hear Seungcheol ramble about how perfect you are. Instead, you drag him into a desperate kiss, tongue teasing his. He’ll wax poetically later. Right now he wants to give you whatever you demand.
More kissing, the prickle of your teeth along his lip, and Seungcheol is pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life. It’s humbling and exhilarating all at once. Ready to crumble into nothing from some light petting.
He takes his revenge on the curve of your shoulder and it turns out to be extra sensitive. Every nip and suck along your collarbone leaves you panting, hands scratching up his back for some relief. He wonders what else is sensitive.
He laves against your nipple in maddening slowness. You torture him as well, ankles locking at the base of his spine while you grind against him and make more noises he’ll commit to memory forever.
 “God,” you whine when Seungcheol finally breaks and rocks down into the tempting heat of your core.
He needs more. 
“Do you think about this?” he grunts with another torturous press. He could come like this. You could come from this. Two adults, reduced to dry humping like horny teenagers.
“I think about you all the time,” you gasp.
“What do you think about?”
“You.”
Seungcheol snickers, “More specific.”
“Touching me, kissing me. Anywhere. Everywhere.”
A swell of neanderthal pride blooms in his heart. The image of you, touching yourself with his name on your lips breaks another piece of his self control that wants to savor this.
“Here?” he kisses the swell of your breast, waiting for a nod to move on. 
“Here?” A suck on your nipple again until the bed sheets threaten to rip from your hold.
“Here?” A bite at your hip bone.
His fingers part your core, wet at first contact even over your panties. “What about here?”
“Everywhere. I’ve thought about you touching me everywhere.” You sound like you might start crying if he doesn’t fulfill that fantasy soon. 
But he’s dying to know every little thought you’ve ever had about him. If you think about him a fraction as much as he thinks about you. Not just like this, but when he sees a building he’d never think twice about and know you’d have something to say about the construction of the window arches, or when he walks through the park and sees two dogs meeting for the first time and can hear your voice whisper ‘best friends!’ like you’re right beside him. You’re in everything. Every part of who he is.
Your panties come off and he licks between your legs slowly, savoring every part he can while you twitch and curl beneath him. 
“Cheol,” you whine.
There's no need to elaborate. He feels it too.
Your back bows under his touch, and Seungcheol watches you touch yourself with rapt attention. You grab your breasts and squeeze, nipples visible between fingers. 
He sucks your clit, tongue lashing at the sensitive nub. A million times Seungcheol thought about doing this and never did his brain imagine the sounds you’d make, the way you taste, the rough tub at his hair. You're hot and wet under his mouth and all Seungcheol wants is more, more, more.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“So good—fuck—it’s so good,” you gasps as he fucks your opening with his tongue, collection your flavor.
His finger wedges inside your tight walls. You angle your hips, sinking them deeper. Seungcheol pauses for only a moment before giving you a second one. The sting across his scalp from your frantic tugging leaves him straining against the zipper of his slacks.
He cups your ass, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed where he kneels. Your legs spread wider to grant him the space to  savor the pink of your folds under his tongue without obstruction.
Your pitch rises, moaning through a third finger joining the mix and a rough lap of his tongue that has you kicking the sheets.. He can feel it; your end just over the hill. A few vulgar flicks of his tongue and its release in long waves that make you keen his name horsley. 
You melt into a boneless heap. Occasional twitches of muscles flooding with pleasure the only sign of life.
Seungcheol mouths up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth for a second before moving on to your mouth. If all you want to do tonight is kiss and let Seungcheol worship your pussy, then he’ll oblige. But the way pull at his clothes hints at what you want. He draws you back into his lap, your body hot against his, mouth coaxing yours open. 
“Good?”
You giggle against his mouth. “I can’t feel my toes.”
He can’t stop touching you. Probably won’t ever stop now that he knows what it means to call you his. To know your body. You’re no better. Your hands rake through his hair, goosebumps erupting as you tug him exactly where you want.
The soft lines of your throat, the intoxicating taste of sweat and perfume flooding his tongue. It’s better than anything his sorry excuse for an imagination could come up with.
You tug at his shirt, up and up until it’s forgotten on the floor. Your bare chest against his lights an inferno of want. Seungcheol pushes apart your limp thighs, making space for himself to grind against your sensitive core through his own trousers. 
Seungcheol remembers a crucial fact as you slip a hand in his pants and tease his leaking cock.
“Wait,” he mutters into your jaw.
You don’t stop, slowly jerking him off, teeth cutting into the vein on his neck. “What?’
Seungcheol savors your touch before responding, thrusting through your first with blind want. “I don’t have condoms.”
“Oh.”
“I can go and try to find some but I—” he rambles. 
“Cheol.”
“—everyone is probably still at the party so—”
You shut him up with a hand over his mouth, “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”
“Oh.”
Oh. Seungcheol’s brain swims with lewd imagination; you stuffed with his cum, pussy stretched and worn from his cock. Feeling you raw, again and again until your helpless sweaty messes. 
“Unless you want to use them then that's fine!” you hastily supply.
He cups your face, smiling as you ramble about how okay you are with using condoms. Your face is warm, eyes avoidant while you enthusiastically declare you want to do whatever makes him comfortable. Which is an entirely new problem because if your goal is to make him comfortable, then neither of you will be leaving this bed for the foreseeable future and at some point people will start looking for you.
Seungcheol rolls over. You take advantage of the opportunity for free command of his lap, forcing his pants down until he’s as bare as you. He preens under your wide eye stare, ego flaring under your wide eye stare. Leaning back on his palms, he grows cocky from your silence.
“Like what you see?” Seungcheol goads.
Your gaze cuts to his, eyebrows arched in your own challenge. A flare of fear zaps up his spine. 
He loves it.
Seungcheol is accustomed to taking the lead in bed. Some girls want him to be domineering, others prefer to sit back while he naturally takes the reins. 
But you’ve butt heads with him in every aspect of life, hopefully this would be no different. He’s hoping you might even try telling him exactly how you want him.
“You’re so hard for me,” you whisper. Your hand reaches out, thumbing at the leaking head of his cock with seductive confidence. 
Seungcheol nods in agreement at a loss of words under your touch.
Your head cocks to the side curiously, empty hand slipping between your thighs, making space for the head of his cock to nudge against your clit. “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
He nods again.
“Good,” you smile. You hide in his neck, nosing along the tense muscles straining to break out from his skin. “I thought about you fucking me like this. When we were in high school. I thought—I wanted you to be the first.”
“Really?” he asked dazedly. 
Your first. Not Stoner Ricky from Calculus. But him. You wanted Seungcheol to have you first, possible be the only one for each other. It’s a lie if he didn’t think of you in the back of his mom’s car while Tiffany Something took his virginity. Your lips, your voice instead of her nasally pornographic sounds, when he came it was only because he closed his eyes and thought of you. 
He tells you that and earns a deep bite on his shoulder. 
You continue, “I’d watch porn or read those smut books, and I always pictured it was you.”
“God.”
You sink on his cock, pussy stretched on his length, stars flaring across your vision. There's not enough air in the room to breathe through the tight squeeze wrecking your guts. You’re in the position of control but Seungcheol can already see submission gaining control. You won’t admit you can handle his cock but pride warms his veins at how much energy it takes for your stunted rhythm. 
“Fuck,” you curse.
 “Yeah? Feels good having your pussy stuff with my cock?” Your nails bite into his chest in response. Pink lines flare in their wake, one he hopes are still there tomorrow. 
Seungcheol drags you into a kiss, a dirty culmination of teeth and tongue and your satisfied sighs and his needy grunts. You suck at his lips, focused on that rather than riding him. 
“Taping out already?” 
You ignore the dig. It takes the barest twinge of his arm and you’re rolling on your back, legs spread in invitation. He sinks into the space reserved just for him, sliding deeper than before. Now he’s the one that needs a moment. Squeezed to death between your walls is the sweet torture he’s ever experienced, the wet sloppy drag of your cunt, bare for him and him alone. 
It’s an act of bravery to pull out for the sake of thrusting back in. If he was confident enough you could get off without his hips sinking deeper then he’d never do it, content to keep his cock wedge inside you and play with your clit and tits until you cry from the pleasure. But he really wants to fuck you. 
“God, feels so good.” You break. He keeps his pace steady, building you up until you muster a way to squeeze him tighter and his skins on fire. 
He hoists your leg up, a deeper stretch that leaves him muttering about how good you feel. The wet slap of your cunt grows louder, sloppy clashes of his pelvis against yours.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, stomach caving. The urge to cum is nipping at his heels but Seungcheol is better than that. Better than a quick fuck, at least for this first time. He wants to hear more of your sounds, fold you in every position he can imagine.
“More,” you grunt. “Fuck me harder, baby.”
He gives you what you ask for; plowing you into the mattress until the headboard slaps against the wall. “You like that?”
“Love it—shit. I love it.” You prop yourself up, shoving a hand between your bodies to swipe messy strokes across your clit. Seungcheol collects more sounds from the back of your throat, rough growls and stuttered squeaks. His cock is heavy in your guts, soaked with your arousal and his cum.
Your mouth finds his. Panting breath and loose tangles of lips. It’s a race against time with his vision bleached white. Your stomach caves with effort to meet each stroke with one of your own. 
“I love you,” he groans. 
You clench at his words, growing wetter if possible. Flailing against the bed, he hooks your other knee under his elbow and presses flat, pinning you down under his mercy. “I love you,” you whine back. “I-I—”
Your orgasm floods your veins, brain fuzzy and disconnected from anything beyond Seungcheol. He takes over the circles around your clit. Calloused fingers providing sick friction until you can’t take anymore.
“Wanna feel you come, Cheolie. Please,” you beg.
Something snaps and he’s rushing to pull out, jerking off over your stomach with your hand to help.
Rope after rope shines in the dim moonlight. He can’t even try to pretend the thrill of cumming inside isn’t on the forefront of his mind as the drips of his spend stare back at him. But you look like a fantasy come true cover in his cum, skinned flushed, eyes glazed and chest heaving. His own Venus come to life.
He pushes back in, spent cock sensitive to the squeeze of your cunt. Seungcheol doesn't want to be anywhere else. Now that he has you, he can't imagine a moment without you.
Sinking the weight of his hips, your legs lock him in. A combination of cum, sweat, arousal, and a few tears sticks between your sweltering bodies. Neither of you care, too enamored with cataloguing every bare inch of skin with in reach of your mouths.
‘Ugh,'' you groan. “I need a shower.” 
In the bathroom, where so many horrible dangerous thoughts have plagued Seungcheol since the start of this trip, it’s peaceful. The thrum of the shower drowns out any sound beyond your sleepy huffs and his hums of content. 
As the water heats you press him into the edge of the sink, kissing him as if there's all the time in the world to do just that. That seed of need that has been growing steadily in his gut since he kissed you in the garden comes alive again. You seem to ignore the prod at your thigh though so Seungcheol ignores it too and shepherds you into the stall.
He washes your back with soapy hands and you coif his hair into a shampoo mohawk and it’s feel right no matter how ridiculous he probably looks. You twist every time he touches your waist, shrieking in laughter because you hate being tickled.
Seungcheol is happy. It floods his veins, shoots through the tips of his fingers tracing your hip, forcing a content grin on his lips despite the fatigue of the day. He rests his forehead against your own and takes his first deep breath since New Years.
“I don’t want this to change anything."
“What?” you pull away.
“No!” Seugncehol shouts, wincing at the voluming. “Not—I didn’t mean that I just meant…I-I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. No more secrets. Okay? No matter what changes between us you're still my best friend. If I'm acting like an ass I want you to tell me. If you change your mind then-"
You watch him, features softening. “I won't."
You distract him with your own touches; it’s nice at first. Then it’s nothing short of blissful agony. Teasing nails across his stomach and sides, firm against his body in a way that leaves him weak and wanting. His heart thuds sporadically under your lips as his cock swells against your stomach.
“Y/N,” he sighs.
You kneel in front of him, smirking at how easy he is. You rub his cock with a slick grip. Your mouth comes into play slowly; kissing his hip, then his thigh, your tongue drags up the side until you suck the head between your lips and Seungcheol almost collapses.
You hold his thighs, guiding him further down your throat until there's no more space and you gag. He isn’t sure what to do with his hands but it doesn’t matter because he’s cumming. Fast.
Without missing a beat, you swallow everything he gives you. 
“Oh god—fuck.”
“Good?” you ask, still licking against the head of his cock.
Rather than answer the obvious, he pulls you to your feet with a gentle kiss to your forehead. He’ll make it up to you back in bed. For right now, you curl into his chest, tracing shapes into his collarbone as the water slowly turns cold. 
He pats you dry, ruffling your hair in the humid bathroom with all the time in the world before dragging you back to bed. You snuggle under the covers, still naked. Seungcheol joins immediately, rolling on top of you and caging his arms on either side of your head.
“Hi,” you smile from underneath him.
He can’t help but grin back. “Hi.”
You make love slowly this time. Your back to his chest, Seungcheol curled around you like a second skin, whispering his adoration in your ear until you lurch and cum with a cry. Then he does it again. And one more time because nothing is better than the taste of his name on your tongue.
This time, when Seungcheol finishes, it’s inside you. And when he tries to pull out, you protest with a sleepy threat before slipping into the land of dreams.
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“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan tsks from the foot of the bed. “What do we have here?”
You’re still curled in Seungcheol’s arms, bare skin on bare skin only obscured by the blanket he had half a mind to drag over your two in the early hours of the morning. He’s still inside you for Christ Sake. 
And yet Jeonghan and Sofie stand like two cats who caught the canary; unperturbed by the state of things. More like they’re delighted.
It might go down as the shortest honeymoon in history because Seungcheol is going to murder them.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a boat in Greece somewhere?” Seungcheol croaks, pulling you closer and forcing the blanket overhead. Maybe if he ignores them long enough they’ll go away.
“We were just leaving and wanted to say goodbye since some people decided to ditch our wedding. Now I see why.”
“Jeonghan,” you croak.
Jeonghan preens smugly. “Yes, whore?” 
 “Get out or I’ll show Sofie that video of you from Halloween.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“What video from Halloween?” Sofie asks.
“Jeonghan,” you warn. You’ll do it. The video of Jeonghan sobbing in a party city wig about how much he liked Sofie before they started dating is one of the few pieces of blackmail against him. 
“Fine. But when I’m back next month I want an explanation.”
“What video from Halloween?” She asks again as Jeonghan pushes her out the door.
“I hate him,” you say.
Seungcheol hums his agreement against your shoulder, tracing the skin with his lips until you shiver. “Me too.”
“Now, are you gonna do something about that,” you rock back into his pelvis, a tight squeeze around his cock he bucks into. “Or can I get up?”
“Roll over.”
Seungcheol fucks you for the nth time in so few hours. You whine and whimper and melt into the mattress under his weight, face buried in the pillows in an effort to stay quiet. He doesn’t care that the sun is heavy in the sky and half the house must be able to hear the way he groans around the syllables of your name. 
He doesn’t care one bit.
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Seungcheol has seen you in plenty of relationships, been in several of his own, but he’s never been in a relationship with you.
Turns out all the daydreaming and what-ifs couldn't come close to reality.
It’s better.
Most things are still the same. You two still bicker about everything. He finds your hair all over his apartment. His clothes magically disappear from his closet only to turn up at your place. You call him a stubborn jackass and he calls you a drama queen (both in regards to how he loads the dishwasher).
And he loves that even while dating you two refuse to change. 
But Seungcheol also loves all the new things. The firsts you get to share.
The first time you visit home as a couple, your mom spots him kissing along your knuckles as you approach the house and she starts crying. Loudly. He spots his dad hand his mom twenty bucks but not before your dad hands over another ten.
Apparently, everyone was waiting for this to happen. 
His dad claps him on the shoulder and your dad shakes his hand and suddenly he’s no longer Seungcheol, childhood best friend who lived down the street. He is Seungcheol, boyfriend. He’s known your parents since he was in elementary school and his mom texts you more frequently than her own son.
But none that matters because, at the ripe age of thirty, you two are banned from sleeping over during the visit for the first time in your lives.
He’s got a suspicion it’s because none of them know how to handle their kids finally dating. You and Seungcheol have never been normal but they’re trying. 
Even if he sneaks out like he’s a teenager and climbs into your window in the dead of night. Now that's a fantasy come to life.
Back in the city Seungcheol discovers more ways things have changed.
You spend almost every night at Seungcheol’s apartment. When your sublease ends after four months there isn’t a big production about moving in with him. You had a key since he moved into the place years ago. Your stuff ends up in his spare room, which becomes ‘your’ room but you both call it the guest room and it's a new level of domesticity he’s never had.
In the mornings, you find him in the bathroom if he forgot to drop a good morning kiss on your forehead (something he’s started doing on purpose because you totter in with your eyes still closed and pajamas wrinkled, diving straight into his chest and grumbling incoherently until he gives in). It’s enough to make his heart squeeze even after the hundredth time). 
Or how you constantly find a reason to touch him. Curled around his back while he makes dinner, shimmying under his arm when he’s reading case files on the couch. A hand through his hair while you cuddle in bed. Your shared bed, in your shared apartment. Which he is embarrassingly giddy about but you are too and that makes him feel better. You meet for lunch, at either of your offices, and he can see the instinct to drop into his lap making your fingers twitch but only because his own flex with the urge to pull you in first.
The first time you go to a baseball game together and end up on the kiss cam and he doesn’t have to pretend to not notice or awkwardly wait for the cameraman to catch the hint, because you’re kissing him until his ears grow hot and the crowd hoots wildly.
In the best way possible it’s weird. He doesn’t know how to date someone he’s been in love with for as long as he can remember. A lot of it feels like being friends. Like whatever was there before is the bones and all the new things filled in the empty space between.
There isn’t really a guide or set timeline but you’re figuring it out. 
And Jeonghan helps. In his own Jeonghan way.
“You guys have been softcore dating since highschool. Just think of it like dogs. You’ve dated for a year now, right? That's like seven years for your guys.”
Seungcheol will tell you later tonight, after you’ve said yes, how the last part of your trio gave his blessing. How Sofie helped him pick the ring (which was really Seungcheol picking the ring and her providing moral support via muzzling her husband).
But for right now, he watches you across the table, laughing at something the waiter said, the weight of the velvet box burning a hole in his pocket.
And he knows the next first you have together will be the best one yet.
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fireinmoonshot · 2 months
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (Twisters) Summary: You're a new addition to the Storm Par team and Tyler finds himself fascinated with you from the very beginning.
It’s been a long and stressful day, so you assume that the group of tornado wranglers hanging about the large red truck by the stairs are feeling the same way as you – exhausted – and will let you head upstairs to get some much needed rest.
You are, however, incredibly wrong. 
“Hey, you’re the one with the Storm Par team, aren’t you?”
You force yourself to a stop on the first landing and turn to the group, all of their eyes staring up at you, and nod. “And you are the ones that make videos on Youtube.”
Boone, one of the only ones who’s names you’d gotten earlier today, laughs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, but I’m taking it as a win since you know who we are, as well as the other million people who subscribe to us.”
It’s hard not to smile at least a little at his cockiness. If you had a million subscribers on Youtube, you’d probably also have let it go to your head a little. 
You try and excuse yourself from the conversation then, assuming it’s over, and take a step towards the stairs, but yet again – you’re wrong. This time, it’s the tall, gorgeous blond man that speaks. Tyler Owens.
“I don’t think she’s subscribed to us, Boone.”
You can’t help it. You bite. “What makes you say that, Owens?”
He grins up at you from his spot on the back of the truck. “Am I wrong?” 
“That’s not an answer.”
The others in the group laugh and whoop, obviously enjoying the back and forward between the two of you. You assume that it’s rare for Tyler Owens to get that from anyone, let alone a fellow storm chaser that he’s never met before in his life. 
Tyler looks at you for a few moments without saying anything and you take that as your cue to leave, stifling a yawn as you turn away and head up the staircase. You can hear the others chattering back at the truck as you reach the top of the staircase and move to find your room, desperate for a warm shower and a comfortable bed. 
You’re so stuck in your own thoughts that you don’t hear someone bounding up the stairs behind you. 
“Hey, Storm Par,” Tyler Owens’ voice surprises you.
You look up from the key in your hand, having been checking your room number, and meet his eyes. “Were you that desperate for an answer on whether I’m subscribed to your Youtube channel that you had to follow me up here?”
Tyler chuckles to himself. “No, surprisingly not. Just figured I’d come and ask you how you’re doing and didn’t think you’d want an audience for that question.”
You’re a little surprised by his kind nature. Judging by what you’d seen of him so far, he was more of an act first, think later kind of person. And maybe he still was since he’d run after you so fast. 
“How I’m doing? I met you twelve hours ago.”
He flashes a grin. “I can’t ask someone I met twelve hours ago how they are?”
“Well…” You hesitate, a little lost for words. “I’m fine, just tired. I haven’t done this storm chasing thing in a couple of years and it’s going to take a bit of getting used to, especially working with a team like Storm Par.”
You don’t owe Tyler an explanation about everything, not about why you haven’t done it in years, nor why you’re a bit apprehensive about the Storm Par team. But you figure, since he’d been so kind to follow you up here to check in on you, a small explanation is the least you can offer him in return for his kindness.
Tyler nods. “Listen, I know my team can be a little much sometimes – in a good way, don’t get me wrong – but if you’re ever after a bit more fun than the suits and PhD’s of Storm Par, I’m sure we can squeeze you in.”
You snort. “They do not wear suits while storm chasing.”
“How do you know? You’ve only been here for twelve hours, Storm Par.”
Tyler smirks as you narrow your eyes at him. “Not my name, Owens.”
“Go and get some rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” He can see that you’re exhausted, and even though you’re happily playing along with him, he’s not the type to push it too far. Especially when it comes to you, apparently. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”
“You gonna set up camp outside my room?”
“No, not for someone I’ve only known for twelve hours. But I will guard the stairs incase Javi or Scott come looking for you,” he smiles, amusement in his every word. “Go on.”
You listen to him, eyeing him carefully one last time before turning and heading towards your room, which you think is at the end of the corridor. Just as you’re putting your key in the lock, you hear him yell out behind you.
“If you can’t sleep, you can always look up Tornado Wranglers on Youtube!” 
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myspacebrat · 1 year
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌.
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virgin eddie munson x experienced fem reader
summary: you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.
warnings: smut ahead, 18+ minors dni, no use of y/n (use of pet names), non consensual sharing of nudes, reader technically cheats, big dick eddie, slight fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected p in v, cream pie, fluffff.
authors note: I feel like I haven’t written a one shot in awhile, so…hope you like. As always thank you to my lovely beta’s @take-everything-you-can & @xxhellfiregirlxx <3
wc: 3.4k
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You are fuming, absolutely seething with rage.
You couldn't believe your boyfriend, scratch that ex boyfriend would do this to you. How could someone swear to be ‘so in love’ with you but turn around and do this? It just didn’t make sense, but you only have yourself to blame.
All of your friends warned you about Andy, said he was a pig and would just use you as another notch for his belt, but you wanted to believe you were different or that maybe you could’ve changed him. Instead you allowed him to take very x-rated polaroids of you, that he in turn showed to all of his basketball buddies, who told their cheerleader girlfriends, who then told you he’d spent all of gym bragging and showing them off in the locker room.
So…you’d devised a very impulsive and hell bent plan; while they were all outside running the annual mile, you decided you would sneak into the locker room, find Andy's locker, then you would break into it and steal the polaroids back. It was a fool proof plan… or so it seemed in your frenzy of rage.
But as you walk into the quiet, cold, sterile room filled with green lockers. You quickly realize you're not alone.
“Oh my god!”
“Oh fuck!”
Was said in unison as you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson locked eyes, but they didn't stay connected for long as yours roamed his body, all the way down to the biggest cock you had ever seen in your life. Not that you’ve seen so many, but you’ve had your fair share of hook ups and I mean c’mon you're not a prude, you do watch porn.
But, even so… his cock was still bigger than anything you’ve come in contact with, albeit on screen and off.
“I’m so sorr–”
“What are you do-”
You both say again, voices overlapping as Eddie catches the wide eyed stare you're giving his flaccid manhood.
He quickly covers himself with his hands, his cheeks pinkening in embarrassment.
Eddie was rather dense when it came to his size, considering he was a virgin and he’s been using the locker room while it was empty since he started at Hawkins High, not wanting to give the jocks anymore fuel for their relentless fire. He didn’t have much to compare it to, nor did he want to participate in any dick measuring contests. The only porn he had hidden under his bed were his dirty fantasy magazines but all the dicks in there were monster cocks, literally.
“What are you doing in here?” Eddie huffed in annoyance as your eyes continued to burn a hole into his now covered groin.
“I um, I–” You couldn't even find the words to explain why you were in the boy’s locker room, not one that would make any sense to him, anyway.
“You what, huh? Spit it out.” Eddie didn’t mean to snap at you, but he was already in a foul mood. He had been present when Andy was showing off your goods to his ogling friends, who all agreed he was a ‘lucky guy’.
Eddie patiently waited for them all to retreat out and onto the track so he could finally shower and get dressed back into his all black attire. Eddie, oh lovesick Eddie had been nursing a mammoth sized crush on you since your freshman year. So, to say he couldn't help but roll his eyes and clench his fists at not only the thought of all these other dudes getting to see you, but also the fact that you even picked a shit stain like Andy Clayton to give an ounce of your time to, really pissed him off.
“I came to try and get something back from my ex.” You bashfully murmur as your eyes once again find the metalheads.
A remorseful look passes over Eddie's face at your revelation, as you both continue to stare at each other you quickly notice his wet hair has been dripping down onto his tattooed chest, the scene makes your breath hitch and you want so badly to clench your thighs from the heat that's been ignited in your center.
Eddie’s confidence begins to grow as he notices the flush of your cheeks and the way your breathing went ragged as your eyes wandered.
“Ya’ know, if i didn't know any better i'd say you’re checking me out?” He declares with a cocky smirk.
“What? I-I’m not-” You stutter before shutting your eyes tight, as if it’d shield you of your utter humiliation. You quickly exhale in an attempt to rid yourself of the mix of arousal and embarrassment that has simultaneously filled your body.
“Okay, I was… but I didn’t mean to, I'm sorry.” You whisper as your eyes meander the tiles under your black loafers and white slouch socks.
“You didn't mean to check out my dick?” Eddie says in bewilderment as his brows raise, disappearing behind his shaggy, wet bangs.
He’s surprised he has the confidence to stand so close to you with his dick literally in his hand, but watching you stutter and squirm has got to be the highlight of his whole high school career.
Well this and that time he, Gareth and Jeff left that flaming bag of shit on Mr. Higgins doorstep. Yeah, watching that old fuck struggle to put out a burning bag filled with dog shit was definitely up there.
“I mean, I did mean to, it’s just– nevermind, I'm sorry. I’ll leave.” Your words fly out of your mouth before you begin to turn and leave, back out the way you came without fulfilling the mission you were on just five minutes ago.
You didn’t even make it two steps before Eddie was gently grabbing your bicep, his hands no longer covering his cock that now grows hard between his scrawny thighs.
“It’s just what?…Color me curious sweetheart.” He says as his calloused fingers slowly run down your arm and back to his side.
Sweetheart, you liked hearing him call you that. Jesus, what is happening?
“Well um, your dicks like really big.” You say as your eyes fall back to his package, you lick your lips at the sight of it twitching at your words.
“Really?” The way he questions you is confusing because there is absolutely no way he doesn’t know he’s hung like a goddamn horse.
“You’re joking right? You’re gonna act like you don’t know your cock is massive?” You say with a tilt of your head.
His eyebrows shoot back up in amusement, the cocky smile on his face a complete rival to his rapidly beating heart.
You move closer into his space, looking up into his innocent looking doe eyes.
Eddie Munson is anything but innocent, right? I mean he sells drugs for fuck sake! You’ve even heard about him grabbing a cheerleader's tit during a drug deal, of course she was trying to get him to lower the price, but still…well now that you come to think of it, that's really the only sexual thing you’ve heard about him. There’s no way he could be a… yeah right.
“Can I ask you a question?” You whisper as you move in even closer, moving a now damp, stray strand of hair behind his reddening ear.
“S-sure.” He whimpers when your long nails lightly scratch down his jaw, which he quickly covers with a cough.
You bit at your lips trying to hold back a giggle at the noise that went straight between your legs.
Okay, fuck those pictures! What better way to get over a guy than to get under a new one…right? Especially one your ex hates…who has a huge cock…I mean this shits a no brainer… you’re gonna fuck Eddie Munson.
“Are you a virgin?” You question sweetly as you ‘innocently’ play with the hem of your plaid dress, the white turtleneck underneath making your already hot and bothered body, burn more with the intense electricity radiating between the both of you.
“I uh, how’d you know?” He sighs as his shoulders drop in exasperation, not at you but at himself for being so fucking obvious.
“Well, with that third leg I never would’ve guessed…but you have this innocence in your eyes that’s kinda telling.” You giggle as your eyes meet his still hard cock, and all you wanna do now is wrap your hand around it and watch him lose his mind.
Eddie throws his head back and laughs into the open air of the now humid locker room. He whispers third leg to himself, nodding his head as if he was hearing that term for the first time. He was.
“Do you wanna stay a virgin, Eddie?” You whisper as the tips of your fingers gently trail over the patch of hair on his lower stomach, just above the spot your hand is aching to touch, that he’s aching for you to touch.
Two things in this moment make the metalhead equally lose his mind, he might actually cum untouched if he’s being honest. Your hand is so close to his throbbing cock, just a few centimeters down and you’d be brushing against his pink, sensitive tip. And hearing you say his name. Wait, you know his name.
That alone is an aphrodisiac for him.
“No, I-I don’t.” He admits before swallowing hard, his damp Adam's apple bobbing at the motion.
“Can I kiss you?” He surprises himself as the question leaves his mouth.
“Please.” you whine with desperation, making Eddie groan as his lips find yours in a frenzy.
Your fingers slowly trail down, finally wrapping your dainty hand around the sheer girth and length that is Eddie’s cock.
Another whimper falls from between his pretty lips, but this time it's unashamed and without a cough to cover it up. No, he wants you to hear what you’re doing to him.
“That feel good, baby?” You murmur into his mouth between the smacks that echo off the barren walls.
“Fuck, yeah mhm, it does.” He rushes out awkwardly, making you giggle into the kiss.
He wraps his arms around you, in an air of confidence and pulls you in closer, chests now flush as your hand continues to softly tug at his cock.
“Do you wanna fuck me, Eddie?” You whisper as you lean your forehead against his, wet bangs be damned.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you for a very long time, princess.” He admits without much thought.
You break away from him, eyes boring into his as you take in his confession. You step back and Eddie’s heart shatters as he curses himself for opening his big, stupid mouth and scaring you off. But before he could get down on his knees and grovel for you to just ignore him and stay, keep paying attention to him. You take his hand and lead him to the wooden bench towards the back of the locker room.
He follows you like a lost puppy before you’re gently pushing at his chest, a silent instruction for him to sit down. He quickly takes the hint, clumsily plopping down onto the stiff wooden bench.
He looks to you for direction, those innocent eyes blinking up at you and goddammit if it doesn't chip away at the walls your now ex boyfriend has helped you build. But, that's a thought for another day.
You fall to your knees, cold tiles digging into your skin as you wrap your hand back around his cock in a wildness that you’d never felt for any of your previous partners.
“Holy shit.” Eddie spits out in disbelief. This has to be a wet dream, there's absolutely now way this is happening to him…he’s never this lucky, and in typical eddie cynicism, he looks around to make sure no one is filming or waiting to pop out and laugh at him or better yet, to tell him this was all some elaborate prank, get the freak all riled up just to leave him high and dry.
The thought is quickly extinguished when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, gently sucking before you're removing your soft, pillowy muscles that are now coated in his precum, you alluringly flick your tongue across them gathering it all, just to get a good taste of him. His soul just about leaves his body and you've barely even started.
You take him back into your mouth, but this time without mercy as you relax your throat, slowly moving down inch by delicious inch as you try not to gag, his tip now bullying your uvula like his own personal punching bag.
“Oh, oh fuck, please. I-I…” He stammers as his hands flex and clench beside him, too afraid to run his fingers through your hair like he so badly wants to.
You fuck his aching cock into your throat, bobbing your head up and down, over and over before you’re popping off of him, placing a sweet kiss to his tip then standing back up onto your feet, your knees burning from the pressure that was placed on them, red indents now take their place leaving very little mystery as to what you’ve just done.
“I need your cock so bad Eddie.” You moan into his mouth before kissing him, it’s deep and needy and you never want to kiss anyone else like this for as long as you live.
“Use me, please. J-just fuck, just use me pretty girl.” Eddie whimpers, before he begins attacking your neck, sucking hard before soothing the skin with his tongue. You couldn’t care less if he leaves marks, in fact you want him to mark you up, make you his.
You thread your hand into his still damp hair, pushing him closer as he begins to suck at a particularly sensitive spot, just below your ear.
Eddie places one last tender kiss there, before he removes his face from your neck. He confidently lifts the hem of your dress up and over the tops of your thighs, exposing your slick soaked, red panties. The metalhead swipes a finger over the thin, lace fabric that clings to your hips.
“Can I take these off?” He asks as his eyes continue to bore into the growing wet patch in the center of your covered slit.
“Mhm.” A high pitch whine escapes from the depths of your throat at how harshly he tore them off from between your legs. Needy boy.
“Fuckin’ aye.” Eddie murmurs to himself at the sight of your glistening cunt right in front of him, so pretty and wet just for him. He wanted to run his fingers through the damp, trimmed coils on your mound but quickly decided against it, he didn’t want you thinking that was weird.
“H-have you ever seen a pussy before?” You chirp up, bashful as you grab his hand and move it towards your soaked slit.
He clears his throat before answering- “just in magazines.” He admits as his cheeks tinge a pretty shade of pink.
He’s embarrassed by his revelation, but you can’t help but think that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.
You work his fingers through your slit, rubbing at your own clit with his hand and it all just fuels that fire growing deep in your belly.
“Oh!” You moan as your eyes gently roll back, you swipe his finger through your wetness again, “you feel that? Feel how wet you make me Ed’s?” You whisper as your eyes now hold his.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful! I-I need to fuck you or im gonna cum. You can’t just talk to me like that, princess.” He mutters as he loses all resolve, not that he had much to begin with.
“Yes, sir.” You whisper into his ear before you’re placing a gentle kiss there. You turn around, hand grabbing onto his still hard cock, you lower yourself into his lap, pink tip already prodding at your hole as your back becomes flush with his chest, you lay your head back against his shoulder and burrow it into his neck, both of you moaning in unison as you sink onto him, slowly.
He’s so big it’s like he's ripping you in half, but you welcome the burn. The pleasure and pain of it all makes your cunt drip even more, further creating less pain and a whole lot more pleasure.
“Mmf.” Eddie moans into the side of your face, as you’re finally seated flush in his lap, cock buried deep inside your aching pussy, you clench around the intrusion, making Eddie gasp and whine.
You smile back at him before you’re doing it again.
“Fuck, do you want this to be over before it starts? Huh?” He says threw his teeth, as he grabs your chin to reprimand you. And you want nothing more than to play further into that dynamic.
Andy was a shit lay compared to this, Eddie Munson a virgin is fucking you better than your ex, and if that doesn’t speak volumes as to how the relationship was. The thought makes you feel stupid.
Before you can fester anymore on your dumb mistake, Eddie begins to fuck up into you, all his patience seeping through the air vents that you now realize are on and blowing, creating a chill throughout the room and goosebumps to trickle over your body.
His big hands grab at your waist, roughly bouncing you up and down on his cock as he follows the same rhythm. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths as you bring your hand to the nape of his neck and holding on, as you get absolutely railed in the boys locker room.
Not only is the location turning you on but the thought of being caught by anyone, especially Andy, has got your cunt dripping and making a mess of the metalheads balls.
“Shit, you’re so wet and warm and so fucking tight, baby.” Eddie huffs as his words begin to spill out with no filter, theres no fucking way he can think about what he’s saying before he says it with you clenching around him like that.
“I remember the first time I fucked my fist thinking about you; you wore that little jean skirt with those fucking red cowboy boots a-and the tightest little white shirt, I could see your nipples perfectly. Didn't even bother to wear a bra, just wanted everyone to see, didnt you? Mmm, bad girl.” He starts his confession out whiney and whimpering until he gets to the bad girl with a growl and an extra hard snap of his hips that make your eyes cross in complete carnal delight.
“That’s so fu-ucking hot that you think about me when you jack off, fuck.” You stutter as your body continues to be used as Eddie’s personal little fuck toy.
“Yeah? But I don’t have to do that anymore do I? You’re gonna let me fuck this tight little cunt whenever I want, aren’t you baby?” The confident rasp in his voice is a complete 360 to the awkward, innocent boy he was just seconds ago. But, the way your pussy tightens around him tells him you fucking love it, so he files that information away for next time.
“Yes, yes whenever you want Eddie!” You wail as your legs begin to shake, your cunt clenching around him as your nails dig into his thighs that continue to slap up into the backs of yours. The sounds were filthy, but they egged you both on as your highs so quickly approached.
“Ed- I’m cumming, oh my god!” You sob, fully convinced someone has had to have heard you both by now. But you don’t care, how could you when the most intense pleasure was coursing through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.
“Fuck, me too baby, wher-” He doesnt even get to finish, before you’re begging him to cum inside you. Of course he obliges, eyes rolling back into his head and cock throbbing as his heavy load shoots deep inside you.
“Goddammit.” He whispers into your neck after you've both come down from your panting highs. The breath he exhales tickles you, making you giggle. His arms wrap around your front, holding you tightly before burrowing his head deeper into the skin between your jaw and clavicle, he blows a raspberry and you can't help the shriek that leaves your mouth as he continues to tease you.
“So, you want help getting those pictures back?”
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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months
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i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while he‘s gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. he‘s so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, he‘s never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her boss‘s infatuation until she‘s not, he‘s so awkward around her she thinks he just doesn‘t wanna be disturbed, but she doesn‘t know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he can‘t help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((
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Banner picture credit: @661ave
possession
noun
the state of having, owning, or controlling something.
Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint.  A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon… This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you haven’t read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)
He’s good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.
And he keeps his house neat and clean: that’s not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life – love life included because there is none. 
He always ensured he’s not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.
He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesn’t hate house chores… but he doesn’t like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. It’s big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesn’t have any. 
Family, or friends, that is.
When he hears that his co-worker – the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids – hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesn’t have a chaos in his home, but he’s got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, it’s only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?
It’s just that he didn’t expect housemaids to be this… cute. 
There are quite a few applications, and he’s a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need? 
Another thing he didn’t expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. It’s the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. It’s clearly for his delight because it’s not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir. 
She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a woman’s touch, no one has ever baked anything here…
And he certainly doesn’t expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.
She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how she’s had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven. 
He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, it’s not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. He’s barely even home, so it’s good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?
He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, he’s thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago. 
It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a women’s conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. There’s a pair of women’s underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs he’d have to fold himself this time because she’s in a hurry to catch her bus. 
He’s far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldn’t care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy. 
When he finds out she’s busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that she’s sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so there’s no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when he’s away. 
It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. He’s never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now he’s pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home. 
Even if she’s not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she might’ve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard. 
It’s nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.
His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.
It’s unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true… But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube. 
Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.
He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if she’s noisy in bed – is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her? 
And god, how he would fuck her… 
Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaft…
He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob. 
He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps she’d give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.
"Scheisse–"
He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks.  
She's just his maid, a hired employee. She’s just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.
He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company… He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.
She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.
She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of. 
Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.
Is this what a home should look like…? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things? 
But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.
He gets it before her next visit – meaning, her next shift – and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope – hell, a full surge of it – and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men don’t fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.
With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all. 
There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.
What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?
He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.
He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job. 
The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.
Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.
So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up. 
She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for him…
She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.
"I got you something... Merry Christmas."
"Aw… You shouldn't have…"
She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.
"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." 
He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.
He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like he’s trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he can’t quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb. 
Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good for… 
"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically. 
Ach so… She’s ashamed for not getting him a present. 
Well, shit. Fuck.
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I mean… I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."
"That’s nice to hear." 
"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."
He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.
"You already got me Christmas decorations."
"Yeah, but… You paid for them."
"Aber... You baked for me. No one's ever–"
He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.
"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways. 
"I truly did."
She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them… it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.
"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. She’s still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying. 
"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."
She gives her last smile to him; it’s sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.
"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.
"Yes?"
"I… Ah, glückliches neues Jahr."
"...What does that mean?" 
"It means 'Happy New Year'."
"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughty…"
Shit.
Shit.
Shit…
"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."
She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that he’s not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.
"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.
"Something naughty."
Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too. 
"Really…?"
"Yes."
"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."
Playful, naughty, dirty. 
She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.
Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening? 
"I want to lick your pussy."
There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.
"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"
"Ja."
It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldn’t be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.
Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress. 
With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.
When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. She’s either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then she’s concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.
"Go ahead then," she whispers.
He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.
She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil… If she knew, she would be out the door by now.
It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips. 
Mein.
Mein.
Mein…
He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so that’s what he’s going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. There’s only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.
Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - he’s not an expert, but he knows she won’t find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country… Perhaps the entire world.
And she's not a screamer, she’s a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.
He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin. 
"Just like that… Just like that… Don't stop…"
He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries. 
To help her out – because he's a generous, generous man – he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.
"Oh god ohgod oh fuck–!"
She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like she’s his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams. 
The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin. 
Women need a lot of stimulation; that’s what he has learned. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesn’t want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined. 
Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.
And he's only about to fuck her…
"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.
"Oh–oh god…"
Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds. 
"Wait–"
"I will fuck you now."
"Sir… Please, could we use a condom? Please…"
She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for. 
"Hm. I don't have any."
"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a year’s worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child... 
But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.
Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...? 
How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?
She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft. 
"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to… Good, long, deep and hard.
She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is… Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go. 
"It's… okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just… If you're clean?"
"I am."
He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.
And he’s clean; he keeps everything…in ordnung.
He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.
"Ah ja… Das ist schön… Sehr schön."
Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck… He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove. 
"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"
It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.
"Ok…" 
"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"
"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so good…"
The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that…? He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.
"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.
"O‐oh…?"
"Ja… It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."
"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "Please…"
If this is a dream, it’s the best dream he’s ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness. 
"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."
He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that he’s truly inside the sweetest pussy he’s ever had. 
He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely. 
"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"
"Yes… Oh fuck, I'm…"
Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he can’t get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.
He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this won’t be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog. 
"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut… Ach für–scheisse—"
He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck. 
She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning… But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.
"Ok… Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"
She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out – now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.
"Will you stay? For the night…?"
His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content. 
"I… I'd really like to but… I can't. I have a party to attend.”
She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while he’s plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity. 
She just needed a fuck… She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck… She's even worse than him.
“I'm sorry..."
"It's ok," he hears himself say. She’s too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.
For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.
He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything clean…
She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. It’s held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.
She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.
He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.
It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours… He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.
The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women. 
When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.
"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."
There’s a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. It’s a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.
And has she walked all the way back here…? There’s no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.
"You’re afraid to fall in love…?"
She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thing…
"Liebling... Me too."
"Really?” she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. “You seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."
"Oh I fear a lot of things."
"Like what?"
"Like… flying, for example."
"But you fly all the time?"
"Exactly."
She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say she’d never sleep with a freak like him…
"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."
She won’t come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldn’t get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.
If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one. 
"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then we’ll tuck you in. That sound gut?"
"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sir…"
"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."
She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in. 
He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldn’t feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.
What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs. 
This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like it’s already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. He’s been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps that’s why she doesn’t run away from him. 
"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.
"...What?" 
He barely hears what she’s saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because he’s there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if he’s crouching next to the tub in reality.
"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.
"What do you mean.”
She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.
"You're… Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."
He tries to remember how to breathe, but she’s not done yet.
"I'm sorry but… No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."
Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.
So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her… Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latter…
And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy. 
But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a joke…
"You’re literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"
"I'm not… right in the head, I guess."
"Well, neither am I."
He can’t look at her. Not when she’s open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.
"No one is."
"No. Wirklich, I’m a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to your…" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes. 
"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind… Actually I think that's hot."
"Liebling…"
"I think I’ve had enough now. Can we go to bed…?"
"Of course."
She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets. 
He doesn’t need to fuck her, not right now. It’s enough that she’s here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his. 
Not another lonely Christmas for him ever again…
And she latches herself onto him like he’s the saviour she’s been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise. 
He’s single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.
But he knows she’ll stay. He’ll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.
"Are you still afraid?"
He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. She’s unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness. 
"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."
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ham1lton · 5 months
Text
HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET)
pairings: jenson button x maneater!reader.
warnings: large age gap - around twenty years. a lot of judgement and criticism as there is scrutiny of your relationship.
summary: after a party at a mutual friend’s, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver.
author’s note: so this is NOT a part of the main maneater storyline. this is just a what if scenario. just something indulgent for the maneaters out there who go for dilfs! last time i checked the friendship group poll, it was practically 50/50 so until that’s decided, there is a big group of all them. also as per usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote <3
— a part of the maneater series ꕤ
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liked by messybitch1, landonorris and 1,728,838 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: after the release of lewis hamilton’s newest almave drink, formula one driver y/n l/n, better known as maneater, was seen outside of the event looking quite cozy with former formula one driver and forty-four year old jenson button. how are we feeling about this new power couple, ham1ltons?
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user1: poor lewis. his drink release has been completely overshadowed by this news 😭
user3: age gap couples never last long lol. good luck but he’ll move on to the next twenty something as soon as she shows one sign of aging.
user34: SHUT UP HES SO FINE 😭 i’d do the same as you y/n girl.
-> user51: LIKE 😭😭😭 bffr. most of the ppl here would fold for their older celeb crush.
user7: idk who’s benefiting more from this relationship? but it’s definitely not love.
user9: Y/N!!!! I’LL SAVE YOU!!!
user2: not jenson going through his mid-life crisis post-divorce. girl u can do better.
user8: maneater… pls say this is a publicity stunt.
-> user73: no cause this genuinely might be her ticking off her childhood crush list. which is real but idk if it’s good for her?
user6: is she fucking all the aging drivers? or is jenson the only one stupid enough to say yes?
user25: i support it. i met my husband when i was 21 and he was 37 and we have been together almost twenty years this may. not all age gap relationships are inherently bad.
-> user4: you’re a victim 😕
user12: y’all are gross. any of us would jump at a chance to date our celeb crush. jenson is hot and y/n is a consenting adult. she’s not a child anymore. she didn’t even know him as a child. bffr.
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liked by bestie2, georgerussell63 and 3,828,782 others.
yourusername: what do you do when you haven’t seen your besties for ages? do a photoshoot in the middle of the street. how did you spend your weekend?
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bestie1: we look so good!!! it was soo good to catch up babe. we missed u!!!
-> bestie2: we’ve all been so busy it’s insane how we’ve not been able to see each other more. i was going insane without my girls!!!
user1: is she not even gonna address it?!
-> user6: big ass elephant in the room.
user4: we knew how you spent your weekend ms l/n.
landonorris: am i not your bestie? why wasn’t i included?
-> georgerussell63: or me?!
-> alex_albon: or me? 🤨
-> logansargeant: or me?? 😕
-> oscarpiastri: i get why i wasn’t included tbf.
user10: u think posting pretty girls will make us forget ur weekend escapades? … maybe. keep posting.
user2: can you guys not make everything about a man? who cares if she’s dating jenson? what does that have to do with her ability to do her job or advocate for causes?! i feel sorry for her because you guys clearly dislike her for stupid reasons and are twisting this into a way to jump her ‘ethically’ which doesn’t even make sense. the only problematic thing she’s done is date a man older than her. grow up, my god.
*liked by landonorris, bestie1, bestie2, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant and 45,728 others. *
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liked by charles_leclerc, bestie1 and 1,092,728 others.
yourusername: italy, i love you ♥︎
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user3: get you a man that flies u out whenever ur sad.
-> user7: why are we not assuming she flew HIM out?
-> bestie2: he definitely flew her out. lmao.
user89: feels like a disaster waiting to happen lol.
-> logansargeant: not every relationship is like your parents. get therapy instead of projecting onto strangers.
user6: still a whore. i can’t stand this bitch.
-> oscarpiastri: stay mad! she’s young, successful and has many people who love and support her while you’re cursed to just scroll through her posts and seethe in your head. this one sided beef is crazy 🤣🤣!
user9: they’re cute!! idk how i’m the only one who thinks this.
user67: she’s still ugly.
-> alex_albon: looked at your pictures mate and cheers, my nan just vomited.
user12: when he leaves her >>>>
-> georgerussell63: 6.220.183.12
-> user3: NOT THE IP ADDRESS HELP?2&/&
user8: jenson. call me when you need a real woman.
-> bestie1: where is the real woman you speak of? she’s definitely NOT you.
user21: honestly? i just can’t get on board with this ship.
-> landonorris: you can’t even afford a ticket 🤣 delete this.
user10: i’m not saying shit cause why the y/n defense squad dragging people in the comments 😭
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liked by oscar.priv, alex.priv and 21 others.
maneater.priv: NEED HIM CARNALLY <3
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bestie1priv: thank god he doesn’t know about ur priv account. i think he’d combust.
-> maneater.priv: nah he giggles. he thinks its funny.
oscar.priv: everyone on a campaign to save you from jenson when they should be saving jenson from YOU!
bestie2priv: LOVE U BOTH <333 cutest couple!
lando.priv: dare you to post this on ur main 😏🤣😁😝
-> george.priv: 43.0.109.12
-> lando.priv: MAN COME ON 😭
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don’t want to miss out on my next post? join my taglist! if you enjoyed this, check out my masterlist or buy me a coffee! no pressure ! <3
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1K notes · View notes
bucks-babe · 10 months
Text
Virgin Bucky Gets His First Blowjob
Paring: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader
Summary: You give your boyfriend his first blowjob
Word Count: 2,148
Warnings: Established relationship, smut (Oral m!receiving), kind of sub!Bucky, Bucky is a nervous boy and gets a hard on during a movie, Bucky has a praise kink, Virgin!Bucky, No use of Y/N
A/N: Should I make a part 2 where Bucky loses his virginity to reader?
��Okay, doll, I’ve got everything set up. You pick a movie yet?” Bucky settles down next to you in his bed, making sure that there is no space separating the two of you. He wraps his right arm around your shoulder and you snuggle up into his side.
Your laptop is resting on both of your laps, your left thigh and his right thigh hold it in place. “Yes, and it’s one of my favorites!” You bounce in place just a little. “You’re gonna love it, Buck! It’s When Harry Met Sally.” Bucky chuckles at your excitement. Steve has his book of things to catch up with in the 21st century, and Bucky has you. 
“We’ll see, doll. You haven’t let me down yet.” In all honesty, Bucky was thoroughly enjoying the movie, Harry wasn’t the type of guy Bucky thought girls would go for, but most of his enjoyment came from how happy the movie seemed to be making you.
A few times you would catch Bucky staring at you instead of the movie; each time you would look back up at him he would pretend that he was immersed in the movie the whole time and you would nudge his side. It just made him so happy to see how much you were enjoying the movie, going so far as to mouth the lines alone with the actors.
“Yes it is! You are a human affront to all women, and I am a woman.” 
“Hey, I don’t feel great about this, but I don’t hear anyone complaining.”
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky is having the time of his life watching you act out the conversations, his heart never feeling so full in all his life. He truly doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, after all the horrible things he’s done in his life, he gets blessed with the most wonderful and understanding woman to call his.
His doll, his girl, who hasn’t even pressured him into anything. He felt bad at first, when he told you that he wanted to take things slow, thinking that you wouldn’t want to have a boyfriend who had no experience in the sexual realm. Of course, he’s kissed women, having his fair share of dames back in the 40’s, but he was a gentleman. He would take them out dancing, maybe make out in his car a little bit, but he never went farther than that. 
Now, after waking up after 80 some years, the last thing on his mind was having sex. That was until he met you, the minx who has awoken something inside of him, but he’s never acted on any of these feelings, too scared that he would disappoint you.
Ashamed that he was still a virgin, Bucky always stopped you before anything would get too heated, and you respected that. It didn’t make Bucky feel any better when he had to go to the ‘bathroom’ after a make-out session, but you never teased him about it, the both of you pretending that he really did need to go to the bathroom.
What the fuck?! Bucky’s attention is back on the movie when Sally has an ‘orgasm’ in the restaurant. Next to him, you’re giggling while watching her fake an orgasm, but Bucky, he’s not laughing. 
Bucky’s never seen a woman have an orgasm. Back in his day, the most accessible type of porn were dirty magazines that he used to hide under his bed so his ma wouldn’t find them. He tried to watch modern day porn after his not so mini sexual re-awakening, but after seeing some of the video titles, decided that porn was a no go for him, so this was sending all of the blood in his head straight to his dick. If it was over dramatized, he couldn’t tell, but his cock didn’t care. 
He felt it twitching in his sweats and he tried to subtly shift so you wouldn’t be able to see the bulge under the covers. Closing his eyes, Bucky tried to will his erection away; however, the scene seemed to never end and his cock got even harder at the thought of what you would look like when you came, how you would moan his name, how you would feel around him. 
He bets that you would look fucking spectacular spread out on this very bed with his cock burried deep inside of you. How your pussy would look swallowing him as he–
“Bucky, are you okay? You’re moving around a lot.” Shit! Bucky knows that he’s been caught. There is nothing he can do to hide the tent in his sweatpants; he curses himself for even wearing pants with so much give to them. 
“Uh…yeah, I’m good. My back’s a little stiff from the bed is all.” With how red his face and chest are, it’s a surprise that there is enough blood going to his dick to have it be as hard as it is.
“Your back? Are you sure? Cause I think I see the problem.” Double Shit!
“Doll, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” Your giggle cuts him off.
“Bucky, it’s okay. If you want I can give you a minute to sort,” you glance at his crotch, making it twitch in need, “that out.”
Bucky wishes that the bed could swallow him up whole so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. He’s a grown man for God’s sake and he’s popping wood at the first sign of something sexual!
“Or…” You drag on, “I could help you with that.” Bucky gulps, finding his throat to be drier than a desert.
“Doll, y-you don’t have to.” There’s a spark in your eye that you only have when you’re up to no good, like when you set Steve and Sharron up on a blind date after being sick of the pining between the two of them.
“But I want to, Bucky. Only if you’re okay with it.” His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest, but he is so hard, and he trusts you with his body and soul.You know that he’s never done anything; you would be the last person on the planet to make fun of him. 
“O-okay. What do you want me to do, doll?” You close the laptop, effectively ending the movie; Bucky couldn’t give less of a shit what happens to Harry or Sally right now, not when you’re looking at him like he is a full course meal and you're starving.
“Absolutely nothing. I want you to lay right there and let me make you feel good. Can you do that for me, hmm?” Pulling the covers back, you settle between his thick thighs, resting your head on one and looking up at him.
“I-I can do that. Yeah.” He shifts so that his back is against the headboard. Bucky isn’t used to just laying back while someone else does the work, has never been like that, but for you he would do just about anything if you asked.
Your hands go to the waistband of his sweats and boxers while you give small kisses to the outline of his cock through both layers. “Good boy,” you whisper on his cock, chuckling when it jerks under your mouth and he whines. Ooh, he’s a vocal one, you think as you look up at his flush face.
Bucky lifts his hips off the bed when you tug at his waistband, and his cock smacks against his clothed stomach, precum leaking onto his shirt. With his cock and balls on display, Bucky fights the urge to close his legs and cover himself up; no woman, or man, had ever seen him like this, but he wants this so bad. He trusts you; if he wants to stop, you’ll stop, but heaven forbid if you stop now.
He’s fucking big, too. You don’t know if you’re going to be able to fit his entire length in your mouth, but you’re sure as hell gonna try! Starting at his thighs, you give wet, open mouth kisses, leaving beautiful bruises on his skin. Whimpering, Bucky tries to get your mouth on his cock; all of your teasing is only making his balls fuller than he thought was possible and more precum ruin his shirt.
“Please, doll. Suck it.” His toned hips leave the bed in chase of your mouth. He can’t count how many times he’s fucked his fist thinking about how the tight heat of your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. Even now, with you kissing up and down his length, tracing his most prominent vein, it’s not enough.
“Shh, big boy, I’m getting there. You’re just so pretty I have to paint you.” His cock bounces from the force of its throbbing and another whine leaves his plump lips.
Eventually, you take pity on him and his begging, and you take the tip in your mouth and give it a harsh suck. “Oh Fuck! Do that again, doll!” He throws his head back, making contact with the headboard with a loud thunk. Hands flying to the sheets, and hips chasing your mouth, Bucky damn near chokes on his own spit.Christ, you’ve barely touched him and he’s about to burst.
Loving his reaction, you grab the base of him and spit on his tip, watching it roll down to where your hand rests, only to use your spit as lube to drag your hand up and down, feeling him pulse and throb in your hand. “Come on, doll. Please! I need more.” 
He was fisting the sheets, not wanting to force your head down, but wanting you to take him down your throat at the same time. Deciding not to torture him anymore, you licked your lips before taking as much length in you mouth as possible.
“GOD, FUCK!” His hips flew up to meet your mouth, making you gag. He was trying his hardest to stay in control and not force your pace, but fuck, he wasn’t expecting it to feel this good. You quickly found a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lap at his dick. Salavia coated his entire dick and was leaking down to his balls, making your movements that much easier.“What the fuck! Doll, that feels fucking incredible. More, please. Give me more! Shit! That feels so good!” Such a needy little thing.
There were still a few inches of his dick that you couldn’t fit in your mouth, so you used one hand to work the remaining length and the other hand to massage his balls. His cock was leaking precum and you could feel his heavy sack tense up in your hand; you knew he was about to cum, even before he did.
Bucky pulled you off his cock. “Doll! I’m gonna cum!” It took you a second to register why he pulled you off when he was about to cum, but you then realized, he didn’t think you wanted to swallow - How wrong he was.
“If you’re gonna cum, baby, I want you to cum in my mouth.” Not waiting for a response, you took his cock back into your mouth, taking him all the way to the base, letting him fuck your mouth with the little jerks of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth were almost akin to sobs, making you clench your thighs together to quell the ache between your legs.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!”  His cum shot out in thick streams and you tried to swallow around his cock, but more and more cum would shoot out. You lapped up every single drop of his cum that you could, some of it dripping down to his balls. When his hips tried to jerk away, you pulled off his cock to lick his balls clean and tuck his softening cock back into his pants.
With a dopey look on his face, Bucky gave you the prettiest smile, having experienced the best orgasm of his overextended life. “I really liked the movie, doll.” He laughed after you giggled. After coming back down to reality, Bucky frowned, “doll, I wanna make you cum, too.”
“Oh, Buck, I didn’t do that because I wanted anything in return,” you repositioned yourself next to him in bed, ignoring the throbbing of your pussy, “I did it because I wanted to make you feel good.”
There’s still a pout on his lips, wanting you to feel good as well. “Another day, Bucky. I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much in one day, okay?” Eventually, he agrees, becoming compliant after getting his soul sucked out of his body.
“Next time, doll, you’re gonna teach me how to make you cum.” God, you love this man.
“Oh, I look forward to it.” This man is going to wreck you and you can’t wait.
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baby-yongbok · 6 months
Text
Cam Star
Camboy!Hyunjin x Camgirl!Reader
♡ Genre - Smut ♡ Word Count - 10k ✧ Masterlist ✧
♡ Summary - You haven’t seen Hyunjin since the CamStar convention but he’s been on your mind and you’ve been on his. Today’s the day of your collaboration with him, a spicy show for hundreds to watch but the cam is the last thing on your mind.
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♡ A/N: I started this as soon as I saw that gif of Hyunjin on live. I wrote this based on one of the many thoughts that gif brought me but it took me FOREVER to complete this. I'm glad that I can at least post it on his birthday! This is the longest fic I've written on this account and I'm proud of it. I hope that you enjoy! 💕+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ MDNI
♡ Warnings: Use of marijuana and alcohol, Foot worship/play, unprotected piv, exhibitionism? - That should be all, let me know if I missed any!
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You’ve had a month to prepare for tonight's plans. Everything around you is perfect, your sheets are soft and clean. Your set is lit to perfection and the new matching co-ords that you're sporting for tonight's show were picked out carefully by you and your best friend, Felix, who happens to be a close friend of tonight's guest. You’ve confided in your friend for weeks about your guest's preferences to try and calm your nerves but he didn’t tell you anything that you didn’t already know. 
You would think that maintaining a spot as one of the top five creators on CamStar for two years would make you feel more like a seasoned professional but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Every time that you think about the fact that you’re about to collaborate with Hyunjin, one of the top three male creators on the site, you want to scream and kick your feet like a flustered school girl. Hyunjin is the epitome of beauty, that might sound a bit extreme but it’s true. He’s captivating and shameless with what he does, always begging the chat to let him cum and making such intense and sexy eye contact with the lens that you feel like you’re right there with him. You’ve gotten off to his cams more times than you’d ever admit to him and according to Felix his friend has done the same to yours.  
The mirror would be sick of seeing you if it were a person because here you are standing in front of it for the hundredth time tonight brushing off your short shorts and pulling up your tube top. The deep golden yellow fabric is nearly see through against you and you can’t help but to think that maybe you should change. Maybe this is too much? I mean yeah you’re about to be naked on camera for others across the internet to see and you’re more than comfortable in this outfit but what if Hyunjin doesn’t like it? Felix said that he thinks that his friend will go speechless when he sees you but what if he’s wrong? What if - oh fuck, he’s here.
The echo of the doorbell through your living room leaves you frozen for a second too long before you break into a soft jog over to your front door. You slide across the hardwood with your fuzzy pineapple print socks and take a deep breath as you twist the knob. There he is. Your eyes meet his for a second and you both smile as you take each other in. He’s chosen his usual laid back attire for tonight's show as you expected. His oversized Hilfiger t-shirt and black cargo sweats don't surprise you one bit but you seemed to have caught him a bit off guard with your choice of threads tonight.
“Hey, you’re early.” Hyunjin stares at you, wide eyed and silent for a second too long before he’s clearing his throat and lifting his gaze from your bare thighs to your eyes.  
“Yeah, I uh - roads were clearer than I thought.” You step aside, inviting him in and you can feel the nervous pit in your stomach deepen as he brushes past you. 
“I told you they would be.” Once he slips his shoes off and drops his bag at the door the two of you stand in awkward silence as you steal glances and open and close your mouths for what feels like an eternity. 
“It’s uh- good to see you.” He leans in for a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and you follow his lead, lacing your arms around his neck as you sigh.
“We’re being such losers right now.” The vibration of his chuckle as he pulls away brings a smile to your face.
“Can you blame me? I haven’t seen you in what? Five months? Maybe six.” You hum, making your way over to your couch and plopping down onto the soft cherry red cushion. 
“Six months, yeah. I mean, we’ve kinda kept in touch since the convention.”
“Commenting on instagram photos and retweeting posts do not count as keeping in touch and you know it.” A blush creeps across your cheeks as he sits next to you, elbows resting on his knees and that damned smirk on his lips. It’s the same one that he uses during his livestreams, the same one that you’ve cum to over and over again. 
“Yeah I know, I know.” You cross your legs underneath you, turning towards him. “You dyed your hair?”
“Yeah, wanted to do something different. I haven’t gone live with it yet so tonight will be the debut for this look.”
“I’m honored that you’ve chosen to debut it with me.” Your fingers rake through his soft locks as you take in the new cut.
“Of course, Princess.” The fact that you aren’t gasping for air right now and appear to be keeping your cool is actually magic. Pure witchcraft, honestly. How can someone make a pet name sound so good? “I need to get used to calling you that so I don’t say your name on cam.”
Your blush deepens as you stare down at his lap. Right, you forgot that you go by Princess when you’re on cam. He’s only calling you that cause that’s what you go by, gosh are you that down bad already? 
“I don’t have to change much, Jinnie.” You sing his name a bit and he smiles at the sound of it. 
“You’re lucky that I go by my name or else you’d have to moan something outlandish like Your Majesty or something.” You fall into a laughing fit, falling onto his shoulder dramatically for support. “Maybe I’ll have you call me that since you seem to enjoy it so much.”
His laugh mirrors yours as he watches you, your head resting on his shoulder with your eyes shut and your mouth hung open as you try to catch your breath. He’s never heard a prettier laugh in his life, he swears it. “Please do not make me call you that I won’t be able to keep a straight face.”
“You already won’t be able to do that though.” He grins as your laughing dies down and you take a final deep breath. Your previous laughter has started to turn into something else entirely. You can feel the heat start to surround the two of you but you’re not even on set or in front of the camera yet. This is what happened last time that you and Hyunjin were together. Everyone at the convention swore that you two had undeniable chemistry. 
“I would say that you’ll have to get used to moaning Princess but something tells me that you already have experience with that.” His eyebrows raise as he leans back into your couch.
“What gives you that idea?”
“Word on the street is that you watch my shows.” There goes that smirk again. He lets his head fall back against the back of your couch as he sighs a bit. 
“Is that right?” He lifts his head, inspecting your matching smirk as he licks over his bottom lip. “Well what if I told you that I heard that you are a big fan of my shows too.”
Your blush is back as you tongue your cheek. Damn Felix and his big mouth! Why would he tell him that? Just play it cool. “Where did you get that information?”
“From the same street that you got your information.” The eye contact that the two of you hold is strong and hot like a steady flame. You watch as his eyes trail from your lips and down the curve of your neck for just a second before rushing back up to meet your gaze but instead of his honey pupils meeting yours he’s met with the view of your own lustful gaze trailing down the slope of his toned arm. 
You’ve done other collabs with people that you're close to and some that you’ve only spoken to for a couple of hours at a convention so you can confidently say that you have never felt as titillated as you do with Hyunjin right now. To be fair, you didn’t have a crush on any of those other people. 
You may not talk to Hyunjin as much as you desire to but you’ve watched every single one of his cams and SFW Q & A’s as well as his YouTube vlogs that you only just found out about days after you asked him to collab with you. He’s mentioned his art to you before but it wasn’t until you came across his channel that you saw just how good he is with a brush or almost any other medium. That mixed with being able to enjoy his everyday lifestyle content and his breathtaking dance covers has made you feel closer to him than you felt before. Though you do find it kind of embarrassing that you’ve gotten close to him through a screen instead of real life.
 Little do you know that Hyunjin is no better than you when it comes to consuming an unspeakable amount of your content. Every single cam that you’ve ever done has been viewed by him at least once and he’s not ashamed to say that he’s even paid to view the premium content.
 He found out about your lifestyle and mental health blog around the same time that you found out about his YouTube channel and he proceeded to scroll all the way down to your first post and back up again. He watched each and every one of your advice videos on the site and has read every word that you’ve ever written and posted. He found himself falling in love with the way that your mind works. He loves the way that you look at life and how you’re able to transform your feelings into breath-taking statements. He nearly forgot about your cams when he found your site. 
“So you think that I’m used to moaning your name?” His question pulls your attention back up to his gaze. 
“Maybe you moan it in your free time.” You shrug with a wink, turning away from him quickly but luckily you don’t miss the smile and blush that he tries to hide from you. 
“I could say the same for you.” He grumbles under his breath as he lets his head fall back against the couch again. You both sit silently, trying your best not to smile like an idiot in front of the other. “Did you pre-game?”
“Uh no not yet, didn’t know if you wanted to join.” You stand, raising your arms to stretch a bit and shamelessly giving him the perfect view of your ass in your shorts. “I know it’s not really your thing.”
“Mm.” He must be enjoying the view. “I’m your guest, I follow your vibe. I don’t mind joining you.”
You hum, making your way over to the black box on your TV stand. “You smoke?”
“Yeah, casually, mostly just with Felix or at parties and shit like that.” 
“I didn’t know. Do you have a favorite strain? I have just about everything.” He falls into silent thought as you take your seat next to him, setting the box in your arms on the table and starting to set up.
“Purple Runtz, I think. I smoked that one before a cam once and I felt ten times more sensitive.” He sits up, leaning forward to watch as you open your box which basically serves as a mini dispensary. Your interest in weed goes way beyond just getting high for the fuck of it. It’s been the best remedy for your anxiety since you tried it but then again you don’t owe anyone an explanation on why you always have a blunt rolled and ready. 
“Ou, I love that one, I think I have some of that. My favorite is Apollo 11, it makes me feel so relaxed and fucking brainless. My anxiety evaporates as soon as I hit it.”
“Are you anxious tonight?” You don’t look over at him. You simply grin as you continue to search for your favorite pipe. You actually aren’t too nervous about tonight's show, something about having Hyunjin here is grounding.
“Not really but I still wanna take a hit or two.” He nods, reaching for the pipe that you laid out on your coffee table. 
“How the hell did you get your pipe so clean?” You giggle as you finally find the strains you both mentioned earlier and take a bit out for the both of you.
“That’s a secret, your majesty.” You erupt into your second fit of laughter for the night when you look over and get a glimpse of the most wicked side eye you’ve ever seen. 
“Fuck you.”
“You will soon.” You pick out your favorite grinder and close your box. “Want anything else?”
“Got any soju?” You pause, turning around slowly to face him with a raised brow.
“You want to get cross faded?” 
“Not really, I don’t drink much just up to the first line of a solo cup. That’s more of my thing than smoking, really.” He shrugs, placing your pipe back down onto the table.
“I mean, if you think that you can handle it. I do want you to remember the night, you know?” 
“I’m not a teenager, I can handle it. I’ve done it before and it’s not like I’m smoking an entire blunt by myself.” You proceed grinding the buds as he stands from your couch. 
“Your kitchen is…” He walks towards the archway of your living room and mumbles a small ‘there’ when he spots the dark kitchen right across the narrow hallway.
“Soju is on the top shelf of the cabinet next to the fridge.” You call out as you start to fill the bowl of your purple glass pipe. 
“So high up for such a little person.” He calls back as you hear the cabinet close.
“Solo cups are on top of the fridge and fuck off tall person.” You can hear the faint echo of his chuckle as he fixes his drink. You take the couple of seconds that you’re waiting for him as an opportunity to light the bowl and take the first hit. 
“A yellow solo? Really? You know that the red solo cups are the sexy ones.” You stifle a chuckle in a desperate attempt not to choke on the smoke in your lungs. He brings the cup to his lips quickly before taking the pipe that you're offering him.
“Sexy?” You question following your exhale. “What makes the red ones sexy?”
“The sense of mystery.” He mumbles as he exhales over his shoulder. “I just never see the yellow ones.” You hum, taking the pipe back and peaking into his cup.
“Hyunjin, that’s way more than just the bottom of the cup.” The corner of his mouth twitches as he offers you the cup.
“That’s because I got just a bit more to share with you.” 
“I didn’t say that I wanted any.” You tease.
“True, you don’t have to have any. Just thought of you since I came to your house and started drinking your liquor.” You set your pipe down and take the cup from Hyunjin’s hand silently before turning to him completely and holding your pinky out. 
“I’ll have some but I just need us to promise something first.” He turns to face you completely, glancing down at your finger with a faint grin. “I get high before almost every cam and I know that you’re aware of that but I’ve never really done it with anyone else. Well, not on cam. I just want us to be comfortable.”
He holds his pinky out to you, wrapping it around yours without question. “I promise that I’ll be fine and that I’m more than okay with everything that will happen tonight. If I’m uncomfortable I’ll tell you, you’ll do the same, right? I only want to make you feel good, nothing else.” 
“I promise that I’ll be fine too. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll communicate so much that you’ll want me to shut up.” The two of you had already discussed your limits beforehand and you’ve both done your research on the other person - whether it be for business or personal benefits varies - but you feel yourself relax further now that you’ve heard him say that he’ll be fine. Pinky promises are like a contract after all. 
“Impossible, I could never want such a thing.” You let go of his finger and he follows, a grin on both of your faces as he reaches for his cup but you beat him to it. “We’re sharing the bowl and the drink anyway, It’ll literally just be the tip of the iceberg.” He’s right, this isn’t enough to fuck you guys up, not with the tolerance that you have. It’s just enough to make you both melt and feel loose enough to drop your masks a little faster.
“You know what we should do?” He takes the cup as you pass it to him, drinking from the same spot on the cusp that you just did. Did he mean to do that? Was that like an indirect kiss? Or are you really that down bad for him already? Fuck, get a grip. “We should start a bit early, maybe just sit and talk to set the mood?”
“You can’t smoke on cam though.” He takes another sip as you finish your second hit. 
“Let’s start after the bowl then. We can share the drink and just chill? Get a feel of everything and vibe check the chat.” He hums, choking a bit on his inhale but recovering pretty quickly, he must do this more frequently than you thought. He clears his throat taking a sip of soju to substitute one burn for another. 
“That’s fine with me, Princess.”
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“You never told me if I look okay.” The two of you finished smoking maybe fifteen minutes ago and decided to move to your office to start getting comfortable on set. 
“That’s because I didn’t trust myself to say something that didn’t sound lame.” Hyunjin makes himself comfortable on your sofa bed, yellow solo cup in hand while he pushes his hair out of his face.
“That was then, what about now?”
“Now I can confidently say that you look absolutely breath-taking.” The soft sound of R&B music playing across the room fills in the silence after his answer. Your content giggling and smiling while you set up your camera and adjust your laptop is enough feedback for him.  “What’s the second cam for?”
“Oh, collabs aren’t available in my archive to try and encourage more people to watch them. So if anyone misses this they’re assed out but I do like to record collabs for myself to watch back later.” 
“Yeah? Gonna get off to me fucking you later?” The weed and soju are definitely doing their job for him. His playful and teasing nature has been on full display since the two of you finished smoking. Your mask is dropped too so you have no problem matching his energy.
“Maybe, better put on an unforgettable show.” He tongues his cheek, eyeing your glossed lips. He can’t wait to smear that red tint across your cheeks, he’ll definitely give you an unforgettable show. You settle next to him, draping your bare legs over his clothed lap.
“You’ve seen my cams.” His eyes meet yours slowly. “So you know that I will.”
“Then let’s do this.” You lean forward to hit ‘Go Live’ but Hyunjin stops you before you can press it. 
“Hold on, I wanted to do something first.” He takes your hand gently as he leans forward to sit the yellow cup on the table in front of the both of you. You hum, staring at him with pinched brows but when he pushes your hair from your face and runs his thumb over your cheek bone you can’t help but to let go of the tension in your face. 
“I don’t really want our first kiss to be on cam, if you don’t mind.” A grin creeps up on you as he searches your eyes, leaning in so closely that you can feel his breath tickling your lips. 
 “Can I kiss you?” You answer him by leaning in and pressing your lips against his. He sighs into you as his lips move against yours. Soft, gentle and only for you. His other hand finds your waist and he pulls you closer to him until your racing heart is nearly against his own. You let out a soft moan as you feel his tongue trace the seam of your mouth. Once he hears that sweet sound he knows that he has to pull away or else the two of you will never turn that camera on and he’ll keep every inch of you to himself. You notice his reluctance as he pulls away but the look in his eyes once they flutter open and meet yours makes you forget about everything except the feeling of him against you. 
“You’re smiling.” You turn away at his comment trying to hide your face from him but he turns your head back, a matching smile on his lips. 
“You kissed me, of course I’m smiling.”
“Does that mean that you like me?” You turn away from him, groaning playfully as you avoid his gaze. 
“Are you ready now? Or are you going to keep flirting with me?” His chuckle brings back the smile that you’re fighting to get rid of and it excites the butterflies in your stomach all over again. Luckily for you Hyunjin is just as down bad as you are, his stomach is doing somersaults right now and he swears that his heart is beating out of his chest. 
“I’m ready.”
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The chat went from being chill with just about ninety people watching to absolutely overflowing as soon as your usual air time hit. You’re used to having a large audience but the number on your screen is nearly more than double what it usually is thanks to your special guest. 
Jinnie! You dyed your hair. They look so hot together omg I’d do anything to be between the two of them right now Can he handle our Princess?
You and Hyunjin skim through the buzzing chat, responding to the comments that catch your eye. 
“So many comments about my hair. I just did it because I wanted to impress you all, did it work?” He winks at the camera, his signature smirk on his lips as he brings the cup up to take a sip. He tilts the cup towards you once he sips from it but you bring your hand up to play in his hair instead. 
“It’s so soft, like, you all would not believe it. I really like the black on him, don’t you?” His eyes meet yours as he licks his lips. 
“Are you impressed?” It’s your turn to smirk as you take the cup from him, brushing your fingertips over the back of his hand in the process.
“Let’s save the reviews for after the show.” You offer a quick wink as you sip from the cup. He tongues his cheek as he focuses back on the chat but his hands are only focused on you.
His fingers are having a field day as they trace sensitive circles and lines into your calves and thighs. He kneads at the flesh softly as he makes conversation with the viewers that he recognizes, but you can’t seem to focus on chat right now. Not when your crushes' big hands are massaging every inch of exposed skin he can reach.
Hyunjin notices that you’re a bit spaced out, so he asks you a question to help you refocus. The conversation kind of turns into an impromptu story time that consists of you and Hyunjin telling the viewers and each other about the other collabs that you’ve done. The further that you get into the show, the closer you and Hyunjin get. You’ve gone from just having your calves draped over his lap to moving closer and putting your arm over his shoulder. That has led you to how you are right now, his arm around your waist with your legs draped over his lap and your head on his shoulder. Your breath is tickling that sweet spot on his neck, and he’s trying desperately to focus on the timbre of your laugh instead of how eager he is to touch you. You’re laughing about something that probably isn’t that funny - thanks to the weed - when Hyunjin reads a comment out loud. 
“Looks like you got a tip and a request.” He leans a bit closer to the screen, pushing his hair out of his face and licking his lips as he reads the request to you. “Your socks are cute but I want to see your pretty toes.”
“Mm would you take them off for me, Jinnie?” He sighs at the way that you make his name sound so sweet yet sexy at the same time. He’s already rock hard in his sweats from how close you are to him, he can’t possibly handle your pretty voice saying his name like that too
“Ask me again.” Actually, he can take it. He’ll definitely explode later but right now he wants to take all that he can get. “You sounded so sweet the first time I just need to hear it again.”
“What if I'm not sweet this time?” 
“Indulge me, Princess.” A mindless giggle escapes you as you lean in and run your fingers through his hair. You stop right when your lips brush the shell of his ear and whisper. 
“Will you please take them off for me…” You suck in a slow breath and Hyunjin’s eyes flutter shut for just a second. “Your majesty .” His eyes squeeze shut and he folds forward in a fit of laughter that you quickly reciprocate.
“You’re so fucking stupid.” He sits up, trying to catch his breath the best he can so that he can fulfill your request.
“Then you should have no problem fucking me dumb.” You fake a pout at him through your laughter.
 “Come here.” You bend your knees, bringing your feet to his lap to give him better access. Your laughter quickly dies down when you get a feel of his hard cock under the soles of your feet. It would be a shame not to help him with that. As Hyunjin removes one of your socks you press the ball of your naked foot against his clothed shaft lightly, just enough for a delicious hiss to escape him. 
He moves to remove your other sock and you repeat your previous actions, pressing against his hard cock with the other foot and then following with both. Hyunjin's hands run over the tops of your feet as he watches you massage his dick over his pants. It’s too subtle for your mic to catch but you can hear his breathing start to pick up as you work against him. “Pretty.”  He mumbles, his voice thick with desire. You grin at him lazily, the effects of both strains of weed is starting to hit you a bit harder now that the heat between you and Hyunjin is starting to pick up. 
“You think my toes are pretty?”  He nods, his eyes darkened with lust. One of his hands runs up your calf, his grip gentle but firm. You arch your back, pushing your hips forward and inviting him closer while he leans in, bringing one of your feet up to his mouth with a feather light grip on your ankle and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your foot. A shiver runs down your spine as you watch him. 
“So pretty.” His voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough for your mic to pick up but quiet enough to know that he’s talking to you and only you. It’s like he’s forgotten about the chat and if he is to be completely honest, he did, just for a moment. The feeling of your foot pressed against his dick is so intoxicating, how could he not? “Can I suck them?”
“I’ve never done that before.” The wide nervous smile and breathy chuckle that follows your confession leaves Hyunjin smiling too. He presses another kiss to the top of your foot, this time it’s sloppier and it sends another chill down your spine, are you into this?
“Do you want to try it?” You’ve never felt shy when doing a cam before. Not even when you first started, so why are you covering your eyes and giggling like a drunk teenager at the mention of having your toes sucked? “Aren’t these feet just too pretty, chat? Shouldn’t they be worshiped appropriately?”
I’d give anything to be Princess right now Such pretty feet need to be praised
Hyunjin’s question received more than a few comments back and nearly double the amount of tips but truthfully, you were already sold the minute that he asked to do it. Who in their right mind would say no to having those beautiful blushed lips on them? 
“I’ll try it.” Your bright eyes meet Hyunjin’s for just a second as he silently asks for confirmation. You nod your head, a goofy smile on your face as you lean back on your palms. He presses soft sloppy kisses to the top of your foot, adding more pressure and tongue as he trails down. His eyes stay on yours when he kisses your pinky toe, adding so much tongue that he’s practically licking it into his mouth. Your smile drops as he does the same to the next toe, you watch with parted lips and bated breath as he sucks on the digit, swirling his tongue over your purple pedicure and effectively making you gush between your thighs.
“Why the fuck does that feel so good?” Your question comes out as more of a quivering moan than you meant for it to but you’re way too entranced in this pleasure to give a fuck about how you sound. 
He smirks, his eyes twinkling with a soft desire to unravel you further. “Because I'm good at it.” His lips and tongue leave a trail of wet heat as he continues, his slow and deliberate movements build you up perfectly. 
Something tells you that this is going to be a good show. 
You can't help but let out a sharp gasp as his lips close around your big toe. Why is that one ten times more sensitive? “Oh fuck.” Your eyes flutter shut and you throw your head back with your lips parted in a euphoric smile. You puff out a small sigh of relief followed by a mindless giggle as he continues to lavish attention on your toes. “This is my new favorite thing.”
“Having your toes sucked?” He plants a sloppy kiss on the top of your foot as he lowers it back to his lap. “Or having me suck them?” He moves his hands to your thighs and parts your legs he sinks the tips of his fingers into your thigh as he pulls you forward into his lap. You gasp at the sudden shift, trying your best to stifle a giggle.
“You can answer that when it’s just you and me if you want.” His hands move to grab at the curve of your ass and you smile down at him, we can’t let him have all of the fun can we? 
The moan that escapes Hyunjin when you wrap your hand around his throat and pull his face towards yours is enough to make your ego explode. It’s only now that he’s so close to you that you can see how his eyes have a faint red tint from the weed, they’re droopy and have the tiniest fucked out glaze to them as they stare back into yours. 
“You sure are talking a lot for someone who needs me on their cock.” You swirl your hips against him, pressing your soaked core against the tent in his pants. You can’t help to resent the clothes keeping you away from each other, you much rather be grinding on his bare length right now. “Shouldn’t you be begging for me instead?”
"Make me beg for it." His words huff out in a shaky breath, his large hands swiftly and mindlessly gripping your plush hips as you grind against him slowly. 
"Show me how much you want it." He attempts to lean forward and catch your lips with his but you dodge him a bit before he can reach you. “Use your words, baby.”
The second that you call him baby Hyunjin swears that he could melt in your hands. He’s no stranger to the sweet name but hearing it fall from your lips makes every other time someone has called him that feel bitter. “You’re gonna drive me crazy.”
You halt all movement and he whines in protest. He attempts to buck up into you but you press down to stop him. “Let me hear you beg for me.”
 “Please let me kiss you, let me taste you.” His pleading voice is barely above a whisper. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, his pounding heart is all that he hears as he awaits your response. Your hand slides up the back of his neck, lacing through his raven locks and pulling lightly. “Please, I need you.”
“You sound so pretty.”  You lean in and kiss him, smiling against him as he cups your face with both hands and deepens the kiss. His lips move over yours with a hunger that you’ve never experienced before.
 His rhythm is gentle yet desperate like he’s savoring the taste of you. Your hands run over his strong shoulders and trail down to explore each curve of his bicep. You brush your fingers over the muscles, moaning when you feel them flex beneath your fingertips, the simple reaction prompts you to grind into him a bit harder earning a pleased groan to vibrate through him. Your hands are caressing the smooth skin of his forearms when his tongue swipes across the seam of your mouth and you promptly grant him access.
 Your hands fall to rest on his chest, balling the fabric of his shirt into a fist and your brain blanks out, there’s not a single thought going through that pretty head once the taste of him floods your tongue. He tastes more like Soju than he does weed and there’s a hint of mint from the gum that he was chewing beforehand.
“Chat…” Hyunjin pulls back, his eyes stay on you while he talks to the audience that you completely forgot about. Forgetting that you’re live with hundreds of people watching seems to be a running theme tonight. “You think I should take her top off?” His eyes trail down the curve of your neck until they reach the hem of your strapless top that’s leaving very little to the imagination.
“It’s so tiny how the fuck does it stay on?” You laugh a bit harder than intended at his question causing your top to slip down a bit. “Oh, fuck can you do me a favor? Bounce in my lap, I wanna see your top fall down.”
“You want me to bounce in your lap?” You coo with a sweet yet teasing tone. “Like this?” You bounce lightly, grinding down on his pulsing erection each time you come down.
“Shit, baby, please.” You continue to bounce in his lap lightly, feeling your top slip down little by little. 
“Is this how you want me to ride you, Jinnie?” You bat your lashes at him, his hands find a home on your waist, digging his fingers into the flesh. 
“Such a fucking tease.” The smile on his face quickly dissolves once your top finally gives way, you continue to grind against him slowly as he takes in the sight. “ Gosh, you’re gorgeous.” 
One of his hands slides up the curve of your waist and cups at your bare breast, kneading the mound slowly while pinching and twirling your nipple. It doesn’t take long for his other hand to follow suit. “Shit, they’re sensitive.” You moan at the contact, whining a bit when he pinches harder.
“Yeah? Can you cum from this, Princess? Gonna soak my lap from getting your nipples pinched?” You whimper, arousal flooding your - already ruined - shorts as you arch into his touch. “ Her shorts should come off next, shouldn’t they, chat?”
“Nuh uh, Your shirt is next.” 
“Can’t wait to get me naked, huh?” He reluctantly moves his hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion and revealing his beautifully built body to you. Hyunjin doesn’t usually get completely naked for his cams, eighty percent of the time he’ll keep his shirt on or just pull down his jeans enough to free his cock but he agreed to do it with you when the two of you were talking about your limits. “Happy?”
“Very.” You mindlessly run your hand over his chest, taking in every bit of him. You’re interrupted by the warm feeling of his hands snaking up your thighs and messing with the hem of your shorts. He taps your outer thigh twice, his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as he waits for you to follow his silent command. “Can't wait to get me naked, huh?”
You mimic his previous statement and he offers a dark and airy chuckle in return. The banter between you two is not helping how hard he is right now. He’s always liked that about you, he likes that you always have something to say back. “Damn right.” 
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, keeping steady eye contact with Hyunjin as you remove them. He moans at the sight of you bare before him, the previous petting your thighs has turned into him digging into the soft flesh in an attempt to control himself. “No panties, Princess?”
“They’d just get ruined.” You grab at the hem of his sweats, fumbling with the drawstring and trying to not make your desperation too obvious. Once you undo the bow he helps you pull his pants off of his hips only to find him bare underneath. “No underwear, Jinnie?” He smiles, chuckling a bit with a shrug.
“You’d just rip them off of me anyway.” You laugh loud, hitting his arm and throwing his sweats to the side. 
“I would not!” Hyunjin follows up with a joke that you only half laugh at, you’re way too busy taking in the sight of his dripping cock resting against his toned abdomen, how is this man even real? Hyunjin catches on shortly after, taking a chance to enjoy the flawless view of you.
His cock jumps once his eyes land on your glistening core, wet and ready for him to ruin, he has half a mind to just turn off the camera and carry you to your bedroom where he can enjoy you without the prying eyes of your viewers who you both forgot about the second that you got undressed, or maybe it was sometime before that, when was the last time that you looked at the chat? A familiar text tone pulls you out of your thoughts and hurls you back into reality. This is a cam show. 
You don’t even need to look at your phone to know who texted you. You’ve got Felix’s text tone memorized. He attends every one of your shows and watches the chat to make sure that no one gets out of hand and you do the same for him when he goes live. Tonight he’s accompanied by Hyunjin’s stream mod and roommate Changbin.
 You assume that Felix texted you to tell you just what you were thinking a second ago, you need to look at the chat. You force your attention over to your laptop screen, trying your best to focus on the comments and tips flooding in left and right. 
“Jin is distracting me from the chat.” You tease, leaning in to read some comments.
They are in their own world Princess is going to ruin him I want him to look at at me like that
“You’re distracting me too.” He pulls you towards him by your hips so that you're straddling him with his cock pressed against your core. “Are you guys enjoying the show so far?” He asks after you send him a playful glare.
The chat lights up with comments and requests. Hyunjin knows that he should pick a request to entertain the audience. He knows that some people want to see him do specific things to you and you to him but he can’t help but to feel a bit selfish right now. He’s been dreaming about being this close to you for weeks. He doesn’t want to spend his time doing things that others request. He wants to savor you. 
“I know I’m enjoying it.” You turn your attention back to Hyunjin, your eyes run over his features, taking in his soft lips and his shining droopy eye. He licks over his bottom lip as he looks you over too. Your eyes are barely drooping despite being high, your lips are kiss bitten and barely glossed but the red tint is still visible and it’s smudged onto your cheek ever so slightly. Just what he wanted.
“I’m sorry…” Hyunjin mumbles as he switches focus between your lips and your lust glazed eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t pay attention to chat right now.” His lips are on yours in an instant, punctuating his sentence with a heated kiss. You gasp at the sudden impact, your heart racing as your tongue tangles with his. Hyunjin pulls away for just a second, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “Can I fuck you now, baby? Can I fuck you like nobody’s watching.”
“You wanna play with me, Jinnie?” You whisper back as your arms wind around his neck.
“Until you break.” He dives back in, moving one of his hands to cradle the back of your head as he tastes you. You pull him closer until your chest is flush with his and you can feel the vibration of your shared moans rattling between you. You reach between your bodies with whatever space is left, lifting yourself up just enough to position him without breaking the kiss. He groans once he feels the head of his cock brush against your dripping slit, he breaks the kiss and leans back to take in the sight of his cock stretching your cunt. “That cunt is so fucking sloppy.” His eyes roll back as you sink down on him and he drinks in every second of your cunt swallowing each thick inch of his throbbing length. 
“O-oh, fuck.” He closes the gap between the two of you again with his hands on your hips to help guide you down. He leans his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he fills you to the brim. Once you take him to the hilt you pause to catch your breath but Hyunjin has other plans. You cry out when you feel the tip of his dick kiss your cervix just right. The stretch of him is unlike anything - or anyone - you’ve ever felt before. 
“Tiny fucking cunt taking my cock so well. ‘S fucking made for me isn’t it, Princess? This cunt was made for me to fuck.” You move in tandem, timing when to swirl your hips so that he feels impossibly deep. You know that Hyunjin is the type to talk dirty during sex, you’ve watched enough of his cams to imagine what he might be like. You’re usually no different but the way that he feels inside of you is so dizzying that you might not be able to keep up with him tonight. The sweet buzz of the weed and soju makes everything feel like it could have you floating at any second. Even just trying to remember his name or your own for that matter is a full time job that your brain keeps clocking out of.
“J-just for you baby… god, this pussy is yours just please don’t stop.” Your fucked out eyes stare into his as you start to take more control, the sound of your skin colliding echoes as you bounce in his lap. His hands stay on your hips, periodically squeezing the flesh when you clench around him just right. Sweet whines and chants of ‘ah ah ah’ fall from your lips but you become muted when Hyunjin sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and lightly bites it. He plants broken kisses as you arch into his hand tracing the length of your spine. He had to get you to be quiet, if you keep moaning like that this show won’t last very long. 
“You know I could have you however I want, right?” He groans as he practically melts beneath you. “I could pick you up and ruin this pretty cunt but I want you to use me. I want you to use my cock in front of all of them.” His hands fall from your back and settle on your ass. The soft flesh in his hands has him holding on for dear life. What the hell are you doing to him? He’s never felt this good before. He needs you off of him now or else he’s going to explode.
 “Fuck, baby.” He lands a firm smack that draws a whimper from you. “Come here, show that pretty ass to the camera.” He lifts you up mid stroke and turns you around, your ass and dripping hole on display for more than a hundred people to see. The thought of it makes you bite your lip as Hyunjin reaches over you to jiggle your ass for the camera, leaving a bruising slap on either cheek as he pleases.
“Beautiful isn’t she?” He spreads your cheeks and leans over with puckered lips. Letting a stream of spit fall from between them and onto your asshole. He watches as it runs down and mixes with the sticky arousal of your pussy then drips down to pool on the sofa. A curse escapes him when he brings a finger up to tease your tight hole, rimming it gently then trailing down to tease your fluttering pussy. 
“Jin.” A mindless whimper escapes you and Hyunjin hums a  moan in response. He wants nothing more than to taste you, he’d make you cum while he plays with both of your holes but he wants to take his time with that. He can’t give you rushed head, you deserve better than that so he’ll settle for sinking his finger into your pussy with his thumb rubbing at your pretty puckered hole. “Oh my god.”
“Think I should add another finger chat?” Tips flood in as soon as the question leaves his mouth. You wiggle your ass at the camera earning a chuckle and a light ass slap from Hyunjin. “My eager princess, want another?” You nod, drawing out an excited hum that promptly fades into a moan once his middle finger slips into you. He fucks into you, pressing against your walls and sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His other hand trails up your back and you arch for him, pushing your ass into his hand. Your moans echo through the room like a porn site on loud speaker.  
“Jinnie I'm gonna - gonna -” He slaps your ass, sending you into a broken moan. 
“Go ahead and make a mess for me, baby.” You’re coming undone before you can process it. He fucks you through it, massaging your sweet spot and drawing out your climax. You collapse onto his lap, eyes closed as you try to catch your breath. “I’m the luckiest guy alive.” A smug smirk pulls at Hyunjin’s lips as he repeats the comment that he was able to catch before it went zooming by in the messy chat.
 Your eyes flutter open with the intention of looking up at him and throwing a smart remark his way but his throbbing cock resting against his stomach is too close for you not to pay attention to. Hyunjin is running his fingers through your hair as he’s still trying to read the chat. He’s so engrossed in that that he only half notices when you move closer to his cock, sliding it into your mouth with a content hum
“Oh baby, oh fuck” His hand rests on the back of your head, instinctively guiding you as you take all of him and allow his tip to abuse the back of your throat. He marvels at the stretch of your pretty lips around him, taking every single inch of him until his tip makes your throat bulge and your mouth water. “Please don’t stop, don’t stop.” He pants above you, his eyes are glued to your watering ones as you blink up at him and bat your thick lashes. You swallow around him with each bob of your head and use your free hand to pay attention to his balls. You massage them gently, covering them with the spit that dribbles down from the hilt of Hyunjin's cock.
“You have no idea how good you are at that. You have no fucking clue, do you? I’d give you anything, I’d do anything just to feel this pretty mouth on me all of the time. Holy shit, Princess.” You choke around him when he pushes your head down a bit, holding you there for a second to indulge in the way your throat squeezes him. A tear rolls down your cheek and Hyunjin wipes it away with his thumb. He brings the finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean, keeping his eyes on yours as he swirls his tongue around the digit. You whimper around him and he throws his head back at the sensation. “You’re gonna make me nut if you don’t stop. I don’t wanna bust in your mouth, I wanna fill your pussy.”
He makes a fist around your ponytail when you don’t stop, pulling your head back with a grunt. “Don’t fucking listen.” You offer him a messy smile, sticking your tongue out in an attempt to catch his dick in your mouth again. He takes the base of his dick between his fingers and slaps the tip on your tongue. “Filthy girl, so pretty. Look at me, Mhmm keep those eyes on me, fuck you’re unbelievable.” He groans, pushing into your mouth and moving his hips in slow circles. You gag slightly as he pushes deep, his grip around your ponytail tightening as he fucks your face. 
“You’re gonna drive me insane.” He pulls your head back again, a single string of spit keeps the two of you connected but it’s broken when he turns your head to the camera. “You liked being dirty for me in front of them? You see how many people are watching you suck my cock.” Arousal gushes between your thighs and you press them together as the intoxicating feeling of embarrassment creeps up and paints a blush over your cheeks.
“I love it.” You hum and he smiles down at you sliding his thumb into your mouth “You’re a dream.” You smile around his finger, swirling your tongue around the tip then releasing it with a faint pop.
 “Wanna lay down for me? Let me fuck you dumb?” You’re pulling yourself into position before he even finishes the question. The sudden urgency in your actions earns you a faint chuckle and a quick kiss to your forehead as you get comfortable. He gets up on his knees and slots himself between your legs. You bring them up to rest on his shoulders and he plants sloppy kisses along your calf while he strokes himself against your entrance, teasing your clit with his tip. 
“How ya feeling, Princess. You got a bit quiet on me earlier.” 
“I’m literally seeing stars.” Your loud laughs echo through the room and rumble through the mic in front of you. “I’m good, just on cloud nine.”
“Am I your favorite collab?” The answer is yes but you’ll never admit that to him, especially not while you’re live. Truthfully this barely even feels like a collab. It just feels like you and your boyfriend fucking in front of a camera. Wait, boyfriend…? What are you even thinking? Are you catching more feelings for him right now? Ugh, okay, you gotta sort that out later. 
“Are you trying to get me in trouble?” You lightly push his chest with your foot before resting it back over his shoulder. He chuckles and kisses the inside of your ankle. “Just fuck me.” 
“My pleasure, this is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna slip into this pussy nice and slow.” He runs his pointer finger between your slick folds and your back slightly arches off of the mattress. “Then you’re gonna cross your ankles over my chest and I'm gonna hold them.”
“Is this supposed to be some type of forbidden position?” He rolls his eyes, laughing at you as you smile up at him. “It’s gonna make that tiny cunt of yours feel even tighter.” 
You take a shaky breath in as he starts sinking into you. It feels like there can’t possibly be enough air in your lungs. They’re burning but you willfully ignore it. “Oh, come on baby, this messy cunt takes me so well.” His voice is thick with aroused exasperation as he fills you. He halts his movement for a second to allow you to adjust. “Breathe for me.”
You suck in a slow breath but that’s all in vain when he starts rocking into you. “Hyunjin” Your eyes roll back as you moan his name repeatedly. It’s amazing how perfect he feels, like he was made specifically to be inside of you.
 “Cross your legs, baby.” You do as you’re told, moving slowly as you adjust to his languid strokes “That’s it.” His gentle pace only lasts another second or two before he starts getting more reckless. He brings his hand up to his mouth and bites on his bent finger while your mouth hangs open in a silent scream. 
“Oh what the fuck, Jin. What the fuck.” The moan that escapes you is desperate and nearly has a primal ring to it. The pressure on your clit for your legs being crossed mixed with him feeling as deep as he does is a recipe to blinding orgasm. 
“You’re so fucking - Oh my god, you’re the only person I ever wanna fuck. This cunt is mine, can it be mine Princess?” He settles into an unrelenting tempo, he grips your thighs with both hands to steady himself while his desperation sets in. “Tell me it’s mine please, please please.”
“Y-yours, all yours, fuck me like I’m all yours.” A deep groan rumbles through him, That’s exactly what he wanted to hear. He wants to be yours and he wants you to be his. He wants to be the only one who gets to feel like this. The only one who makes you cream on their cock. You look so pretty, you sound so pretty, fuck you’re so pretty. 
You turn your face towards the camera so that they can get a better look at you, eyes crossed and drooling onto the sofa.
“My brainless baby is drooling?” A broken moan interrupts him.  “My cock really got you fucking dumb, huh?” 
“I wan’ your cum, Jinnie, please. Need it. Need it inside.”
“You want it? Baby’s gonna milk my cock, huh? Gonna make me creampie that cunt. Shit - I’m close.” You clench around him and he swears that he can feel his soul leaving his body. He pushes all the way in, hitting spots that you could never reach alone. Your orgasm comes into sight when he hits your cervix just right. “You gonna take it, baby? Gonna take all my - fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
 “Don’t.” He groans, slowing down a bit but you whimper in protest. “Keep fucking me like that, p-please please. Deep like that, you’re so deep like that, fuck - please.”
“Pri-princess, I can’t - fuck, I can’t”  He whines and buries himself deep into you, hips stuttering as he gets closer and closer to losing control. 
“Don’t you d-dare cum, Jinnie. Don’t.” You press your thighs together in a desperate attempt at reigning in your orgasm. The pleasure build inside you, slowly creeping up your spine before it hits you all at once. Your body tenses as shockwaves rush over you and your walls spasm and contract around him.
“Holy shit, baby I can’t fucking take it.” His movements become erratic as he tries to help you ride out your high but the feeling of you flooding his cock throws him over the edge. His orgasm hits him like a freight train and he throws his head back and practically screams above you. He bites his lip in a desperate attempt to quiet himself but his efforts are not enough to keep his moans of euphoria at bay.
 He empties himself inside of you until his seed is spilling out in a helpless attempt to escape your plugged pussy. You uncross your legs from his chest and let them plop against the sofa once he releases his death grip on your thighs. With the lack of support Hyunjin falls forward but he catches himself before he collapses on top of you, his hips shake as he comes down from his high. Sweat drips down and runs along the valley of your breasts as he hovers above you and tries to catch his breath. You stay still, your body still trembling as the aftershocks of pleasure course through you. You stay like that until he finally pulls himself out and collapses next to you. 
Only your labored breaths can be heard throughout the room as you try to fill your lungs but that’s easily drowned out by the sounds of your hammering heart pulsing in your ears when you feel Hyunjin move next to you. 
He’s holding your hand.
His fingers intertwine with yours, giving you a light squeeze and you smile at the gesture, the butterflies in your stomach erupt into a clumsy swarm as the two of you lie in silence for a while longer.. 
“So.” Hyunjin breaths out, propping himself up onto his elbow so that he can look down at you. “Are you impressed?” You push him down with a laugh and roll over on top of him.
“I am impressed.” You lean down and catch his smiling lips in a slow and soft kiss. You both sigh into it, his hands tracing up your sides as yours run down his chest. You break the kiss with a smile and whisper. “Your majesty.”
“If you’re the Princess what does that make me?” Hyunjin teases with a smile and you stare down at him with a surprised blush. You attempt to hide your face in his neck and roll off of him but he pulls you in for another kiss before you can make your escape. The two of you melt into the exchange, getting so lost in each other that you don’t hear Felix’s text tone going off. Actually, you haven’t heard it go off for the past ten minutes that he’s been texting you. Changbin has been texting Hyunjin for the same amount of time if not a bit longer but the two of you have been so deep in your own world. Right now nothing and no one but the two of you exist. You’re both completely and totally enamored with each other and you have no problem with everyone knowing that…Except no one will know that. Why?
Because the livestream disconnected twenty minutes ago.
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tteokdoroki · 4 months
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tw ! slight age gap, reader is older, cheating, fingering, smut.
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hello going on a business trip or to a conference, escaping your mundane life and the marriage that brings you nothing.
you’ve really gone on this trip to get away from your dead bedroom and the spouse that treats you like nothing more than a money maker.
which leads you to having a chance encounter with bakugou at the bar of the hotel your conference is at. you remember him from one of the panels — he’s young for this field of work but incredibly handsome, has brilliant red eyes that draw you in like magnetising poles, he makes you laugh and from your belly too. he’s everything your current spouse is not, there’s a spark inside you that you haven’t felt in years and bakugou knows it too. he makes you feel beautiful and seen and all he’s done is buy you a drink with a sour olive in it.
you find yourself stumbling behind him after one too many drinks, katsuki guiding you back to your hotel room — the good man that he is. you’ve both got panels to attend tomorrow morning at 9am sharp. it wouldn’t be wise to spend the rest of the night basking in booze and one another’s company. but when you get the door, failing to slip your key card into the slot — the blonde’s hand touches yours to help you get it in and all sense of logic is lost.
you no longer feel drained by mundane life waiting for you back home, you no longer think of your boring spouse in currently sleeping in your marital bed where they fail to make you feel loved. from the moment katsuki’s hand had touched yours, all you could feel was electricity, the longing and the wanting you’ve been desperately craving.
his lips drag sweep across your skin in heated motions and they find pleasure spots you’re not sure you even knew existed. bakugou’s fingers map out every inch of your body as though he may never touch you again, they dip past the forbidden band of your a-line skirt and write secret promises of pleasure against your clit because you’re married and the both of you know this is wrong.
one touch turns into another, dull and thick fingers stretch you open and graze your g-spot with an ease your spouse could never find. you e never felt this good, your lashes flutter against katsuki’s neck as he holds you to his chest and finger fucks you to the high heavens…because you’re just a hardworking woman who hasn’t had her pussy ruined in a long time, not like you deserve. he grins when you cream on just two of his fingers, such a good girl, so easy to please.
“such a pretty girl… such a hard worker ‘n no one to take care of you,” the blonde purrs into your ear before pushing you into the plush pillows and blankets below. there’s a gravel in his voice that raises at the heartbeat between your legs, not to mention the perfect view of him loosening his shirt and tie above you. “s’that why you’ve fallen into bed with the youngest guy here. ‘cause i got what it takes t’keep up with ya, yeah? make you feel better than that poor excuse of a fuck you got back home?”
bakugou grins slow and sexy when your hips rise from the bed on instinct at his words and he kisses you just to reward you, a poor touch starved little thing. its hungry and sloppy and messy and somewhere in the mix of his tongue wrapped around yours and your hands in his hair — the blonde has ripped through your stockings and slipped his aching, dripping slick cock past your quivering entrance.
he feels like home inside you, feels you up to the brim and sends your eyes rolling back into the depths of your skull. every stroke is calculated, every piston of katsuki’s meaty girth purposive and intentional — crafted to make you see stars with every jolt of your body up the bed. you can’t go back to regular old life after tonight, you won’t be able to go back to the way things were without picturing bakugou’s tie hanging loosely above you and hearing his deep moans echo throughout your mind.
that night you leave marks on one another that you’ll be hiding for weeks, smiling at when no one is looking, reminiscing the sinful experience shared in this very hotel room. there’s too much passion in the room for this to just remain a one time thing, too much emotion behind the act saliva swept lip lock or love bite left below the line of future clothes to be worn.
you know that you won’t give katsuki up especially when he kisses you as you cum together, thick white seeping between your swollen and ravaged folds.
you’ll do anything to be underneath bakugou like this again, even if it means planning fake business trips every other weekend to get away from your spouse and get fucked to the high heavens by your young hot colleague.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.
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sleepiexx · 17 days
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Something He’d Overheard
James Potter x fem!Reader
Note: I’ve been in the marauders fandom for over 7 years now, I think it’s high time I write a fic for it. Part of my efforts to branch out into writing for more fandoms than COD.
Summary: James finds himself head over heels when he sees you defending a first year student.
Warnings: some curse words here and there, bullying mention, overall rlly soft
Word Count: 1151
After countless fictional characters and random strangers on the street with pretty faces catching his burning ire, anyone who knew James Potter knew good and well that he was a lover. He had long believed in love at first sight, merely seeing someone eye-catching often sparked thoughts of budding romance, fantasies of how they would love and what their relationship would look like amongst other things. Soulmates and fate were a big concept to him too, for example his favorite book character, a headstrong witch who was kind and brilliant, well James had a hunch that in another life they were lovers.
He’d fallen in love just about a million times, and yet something about you was different.
You had caught James’ eye one day as he made the trek to the library to collect his good friend Remus for their group’s usual night’s worth of mischief. Your beautiful eyebrows were pinched together in anger, a sneer on your pretty lips, your voice was loud and firm as you scolded one of the usual culprits (a death eater in the making) for bullying a defenseless first year student.
Your hand clutched your wand intently as you damn near hissed the words, “you wanna try picking on someone who can actually fight back?”
They let out a scoff and left the scene, leaving you, the first year, and unbeknownst to you, James.
The switch between standoffishness and caring came like whiplash. Your tensed frame relaxed as you knelt down in front of the first year (those eleven year olds seemed to be growing shorter and shorter every year). Your dominant hand reached out and gently wiped away the younger child’s tears.
“Everything he said is bullshit,” you began, “he’s angry at the world, looking for someplace to fit in, and unfortunately it’s really easy to fall into the wrong crowd. You haven’t, and he’s jealous of that.”
The kid sniffled, pout still indented firmly on their little lips, “who would be jealous of me?”
You shook your head in disbelief, “plenty of people! You have a gift that a large part of the world’s population doesn’t possess, that’s something to be proud of no matter what other witches and wizards try to tell you. Heck, I’m even jealous of you.”
As you spoke a smile crept its way on the first year’s face, “you are?” They asked.
“Yeah, I am!” You nodded, “you’ve got six and a half more years left at Hogwarts to have fun and run about the castle, I only have another year and a half.”
“This place is pretty cool,” they muttered.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Your face lit up and you stood to your feet, offering the small child your hand so you could walk them back to their common room. You’d never seen the awe-stricken onlooker, but the scene was now burned into James’ mind.
It followed him to the library, where he convinced Remus to follow him to their other friends, a long walk that Remus spent listening to James drone on and on about you. It followed him to his dorm that night, and every other night for weeks leaving the marauders to know every single detail about you. And it most especially followed him to each of the classes you had together where James would stare at you and admire your appearance while daydreaming about you.
It was the third time that week that the scene had followed him to the lunch table when Sirius slammed his palms on the table, “I’m putting an end to this nonsense right now. You either talk to her, Prongs, or I will. And trust me, you won’t like how in depth I will go about those daydreams you’ve been having where-“
Sirius couldn’t even finish his sentence with how fast James jumped in, “alright, alright! I have potions with her next, I’ll talk to her, I swear.”
The statement leaves the marauders satiated in conversation as they finish up their lunch and head to their classes.
In potions, James nearly decides to abandon ship, facing a new anxiety he’d never experienced before when dealing with a girl. He decides that maybe it would be best to keep to himself, too afraid to stumble on his words and make a fool of himself in front of such a pretty girl. All this is until Professor Slughorn proclaims that today’s assignment requires a partner. If there ever was a time to shoot his shot, it’s now.
He takes deep breaths, adjusting his posture and forcing his every step to radiate confidence before he reaches you, “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to be my partner?”
You smile, “I’d love to! Fair warning, though, I’m not the best at potions.”
James bursts out into a giddy grin, “I’m willing to pick up the slack.”
“Unfortunately, I bet I’ll make you eat your words,” nonetheless you collect the ingredients as James collects the supplies.
When everything is together, James reads off the instructions. You follow them with great care, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of your new, devilishly handsome potions partner.
You make to slice open one of the ingredients, as the instructions called for, but your knife slips, sending the damned thing hurdling straight towards your face. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for an impact that never comes, reopening them only to be met with the sight of the back of James’ hand.
“Holy shit,” you curse, “did you just catch that?”
James nods, almost surprised at himself.
You shake your head in disbelief, “if you weren’t such a good chaser, I’d suggest you take up seeking.”
Your statement renews James’ confidence, so you’d noticed him too?
“Can I show you how to cut it?” He asks, a smile on his face.
You nod, watching his hands intently, confused when he disappears behind you. You quickly piece together what’s happening when he grabs your hands with his own, handing you the knife and positioning you so that you slice through the ingredient like it’s nothing.
“Great job!” James praises, even though it was him that had done all the work.
You still take the compliment, grinning from ear to ear as he tosses the final ingredient into the potion, creating the rich purple color you were striving for, “we make a really good team, Potter.”
“Oh yeah?” He asks, “well what do you say we see if we make as good of a couple?” You feel blood rush to your cheeks, James further clarifies “Hogsmeade this weekend? Just you and me?”
And you nod eagerly, “I would love that.”
If Sirius thought James asking you out would be the solution to him raving on and on about you all hours of the day, he was sorely mistaken and he was about to figure that out as soon as James stepped into the common room.
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princesssmars · 3 months
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you sometimes forgot how… slightly obsessive, violet could be. nsfw.
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when you were younger you had a love hate relationship with her tendency to become so completely fixated on something. staying up for hours at night thinking about their next score, holding a grudge for years against anyone who got piss drunk and pissed off vander in the bar, planning and fidgeting over the perfect way to ask you out for weeks before you finally took the step yourself.
even if it got her into danger, got her and her siblings into a temporary struggle that made your heart stall with the thought of nearly losing them, you always reminded her that you thought her fixation on things was cute, and a useful tool about half of the time.
(you even said that the trait reminded you of powder, always blabbering to you for as long as she could talk about her new ideas for gadgets and bombs. the girl was overjoyed in sharing something in common with her big sister, immediately climbing on her back to ramble about something new.)
but then you actually you lost her. you lost all of them. and you wished you had told her that that insecurity she had, all the insecurities she had, were stupid and inconsequential to how perfect you thought she was.
but maybe you’ll get the chance to tell her (and tell jinx that yeah, you were right, i did start seeing ghosts too) because a scarily realistic replica of your ex is standing in front of you and before you can shoo it away she’s hugging you so tight you think your ribs will break.
you follow as ekko gives her the tour of the firelights base, admiring each and every way she’s changed. she’s taller, obviously stronger, wearing a prison uniform that you don’t if you’re allowed to say looks good on her and a red jacket she stole from some guy because of course she did. you stifle a laugh as she tells the story and she smiles at you, indiscreetly wrapping your hand in hers.
it’s obvious by the look on his face ekko is so going to tease you about this later, but you don’t get a chance to care when she turns to you and ask where she and her enforcer friend can sleep. and janna knows you want to offer for her to sleep with you, but it’s been years and you don’t want to make her uncomfortable so you lead her and caitlyn to the newbie dorms.
but it seems like you’ve forgotten just how damn stubborn she is, because not even half an hour later a loud banging at your draws you from your bed, her flushed and nervous face shocking you into silence.
she asks to come in, but with her it’s always more like a demand then a question. you try to ignore the burning feeling of her eyes trained on you as you lead her to your bed, rolling your eyes as she aggressively flops back onto it.
“holy fuck, i haven’t been on something this soft in years. i think i’m gonna fall asleep right now.”
“i wouldn’t be mad if you did.” well, you’d be a little upset. you have so much to talk to her about everything, anything that’s happened since she disappeared. granted a lot of it was bad but there were still a few things you think would cheer her up. she’d already told you enthusiastic she was to eat jerichos again, just wait till she found out that-
you must of zoned out for a minute because you’re shocked back to reality by soft lips pressed to yours, vi’s bandaged hand cupping your cheek like you’ll fade into dust if she lets go. you mentally kick yourself in the head for not responding quicker when she pulls away and looks at you with that sad puppy look she gets.
“i, i’m sorry. it’s just, you were staring at me for a while! and it’s been so long since i’ve seen you and i don’t even know what we are or if we’re still girlfriends but you’re even more beautiful than the last time i saw you-“
you cup both of her cheeks in your hands,(maybe a little too hard) give her a second to back away if she wants, and pull her back in. her arms wrap around your waist and she lets out a whimper when your hand travels to the back of her neck to pull her closer and closer-
and now it’s around one hour? maybe two? it’s a while later, and as her hand travels back into you for the fourth time, yeah, you’re starting to remember how obsessive she could be.
“vi, baby - oh my gods, y’know you can slow down!” your voice pitches when her fingers, her beautiful long and big fingers push up against that spot inside you, her other hand keeping your hips down when you involuntarily raise them off the sheets.
“don’t think i can, princess.” she groans into your breast as she sucks another path of bruises down your chest, slate eyes amused at how your hands grip the bed like it stole from you, how your mouth opens so cutely before you bite your lips to hold back your sounds.
her mouth finally closes around your clit and the increased sensitivity from your past orgasms combined with the almost growling sound she makes when she tastes you sends you right over the edge, thighs clamping around her head as she carries you through it.
the rubbing of her rough hands over your thighs and her gentle words of praise merry drag you into the beginnings of a soft slumber.
until you can feel the damn brute lift your legs onto her shoulders and stick her tongue inside you, laughing at your shocked squeal and resumed grip on her hair.
“besides, we’ve gotta make up for lost time, don’t we?”
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writing a drabble based on the fic you’re writing instead of finish the fic i’m such a genius like 😍😍 glad her tag is coming back but i want content coming out like a factory line ok everyone get to work 🙏🏽
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notjustjavierpena · 2 months
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Peek
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Haven’t written about these two for a while! I hope you enjoy!
Summary: Joel finds an excuse to get out of watching the Olympics but only so he can go upstairs and find you getting ready to go out while listening to the summer’s biggest album.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, basically pwp, dad’s best friend, age gap, immorality kink, dirty talk, groping, fingering, possessive behavior. pet names, Daddy kink, unprotected piv sex, rough sex, anal threat, creampie, y2k vibes, brat summer
Word count: 4.2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58023772
Peek
The TV is loud in your father's living room as the Olympics are on but Joel can concentrate on nothing but the thought of you being upstairs even if he had looked forward to seeing the competition in gymnastics this afternoon. He is here because it is tradition to watch whatever sports are on during the summer with your father, his best friend, but nothing feels the same since he started seeing you behind his mate’s back.
Carefully, he shifts his weight on the leather couch cushion, the heat of Texas making the material stick uncomfortably to the slightly exposed skin of his thighs. It creaks as he changes his position, leaning forward to grab his near-empty beer and sneak a look at your dad out of the corner of his eye. He tries to figure out if he knows that Joel has had his face buried between his daughter’s thighs just yesterday but he doesn’t even flinch, too absorbed in the intricate routine on the screen.
He leans back again and takes a long sip of the bottle in his hand, emptying it in case he has to think of a reply to a sudden question about you. It doesn’t come but instead, he receives a raised brow.
“You sure are thirsty there, Miller,” he says with a gentle grin, playful and normal in everything he does so that Joel may relax a little more. He laughs with embarrassment in return, a blush of guilt that he hopes is taken as shame creeping up from under the neck of his t-shirt.
“Hot day,” he answers simply. He covers up his train of thought with a conversation, “Did you see that landing? That was something else.”
Your father seems satisfied with that answer to the degree where he turns back to the television, “And that dismount. They’re gettin’ better and better each year.”
Joel follows his line of sight, fixated upon the tight suit of a female gymnast, and chuckles under his breath. He puts the bottle back on the coffee table, knowing he is no better than that; he can almost hear your soft laughter from upstairs as you chat with someone on the phone, can almost feel the warmth of your gorgeous body against his. This push and pull between what he should do and what he wants to do is slowly driving him to insanity.
Your father slaps the armrest in excitement as another woman does her routine without faltering, “Did you see that? Gold medal for sure.”
“Yes,” Joel lies like he has gotten so good at lately, for the first time in his entire life not very interested in sports, “Best thing I’ve seen so far, think you’re right.”
He is more busy with thinking about how to act in case you make your way downstairs, wearing a cute sundress and smiling at him like you always do but still in a way that it took him way too long to notice. He hopes you might give him the thrill of making an appearance soon.
During commercial break, your father gets up from the couch to get more beers from the kitchen and Joel has time to glance towards the stairs. He cranes his neck to see if you are standing at the top but he is left disappointed, left to imagine what you are doing upstairs in your childhood bedroom with the Hello Kitty computer mat. He remembers the way your tits were pressed against it the first time he fucked you and shamelessly hopes he’ll get to have you in this house again just once before summer ends. Perhaps today? No, he shouldn’t want to do anything with you in this house.
Time passes. Nothing happens. It’s with relief and disappointment that he concludes that he won’t see you, with a smile as he is handed another cold beer to not quite quench his thirst.
“Five more routines to go,” your father says with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose as he looks through the program on his phone, “Sprints later. Always exciting.”
“No volleyball?” Joel hates himself for joking with a wink.
“Not watching women in tiny shorts, are we?” Joel nearly jumps at the sudden sound of your voice, blushing at his own distasteful joke, “Didn’t know you were a pervert, Mr. Miller.”
“Mind your own business, you,” your father tuts with his eyes on his phone. It takes a moment before he glances over the back of the couch, giving Joel’s own eyes a second to stare at you while he clenches his jaw at the sight of your white sundress, tied in around your waist. You look radiant, pure, and forbidden. He wants to reach out to touch the bit of your thigh that peeks out.
“Another shitty day for women,” you roll your eyes teasingly and nudge him playfully in a way that sends electricity through his entire being. However, Joel tenses up at hearing you use foul language, an inside rule between you that he cannot tell you that you’ve broken.
Your father says your name in disapproval and glances apologetically at him, “Where did you learn to talk like that? Sure as heck ain’t from me. The kids you’re hanging out with tonight?”
Joel’s grip tightens on the couch as you giggle sweetly, the sound enchanting him to the point where he thinks of everything off-putting that he can come up with so his cock might flag again. He hopes it doesn’t strain against the loose fabric of his shorts. You are doing this on purpose, teasing him relentlessly now that he can do nothing about it, and he is so turned on that it makes him feel ill.
“Oh, you old man. You can’t keep me in line anymore. I’m over 21; I can do whatever I want,” you stand behind the couch and wrap your arms around your father, kissing his cheek from behind. Joel looks at the way your ass sticks out, quickly catching himself ogling when your father’s eyes fix on him with embarrassment.
“She’s incorrigible,” he says with resignation, patting the hand that you rest on his shoulder. Joel can only imagine what would happen if your dad knew what he was thinking about.
“I can imagine her being her own boss,” he laughs to make himself feel less like a creep but doesn’t quite succeed when your dad joins in.
“Why are you here?” Joel hears him finally say.
“I’m not drinking tonight,” you begin, pulling back a little to look at your father properly, “Can I borrow the car?”
He frowns for a moment but then nods, “Alright but be careful.”
“Always am, thank you, Dad. Love you,” you peck his cheek again to feel him smile, stretching to your full height. The wind blows in from the door to the garden and Joel catches a sniff of your perfume as you leave the living room, “I’ll go change now. See you, Dad! Joel!”
You disappear upstairs again and the atmosphere shifts significantly. Your absence sends him into small talk with your father, going over the usual topics of work, sports, and family. He tells your dad about a big upcoming project, that Sarah’s doing well at college, and that he actually never really cared much for cycling despite it being a massive hit each time the Olympics are held.
“Actually, I might head up for a sec,” he says when thoughts of you have raged long enough in his mind, making him shift in his seat before pushing himself to stand. He is too curious about seeing you, too desperate to have you alone, “Nature’s calling, and I can’t wait for the commercials.”
Your father chuckles, eyes still glued to the television where they are handing out medals, “Sure thing, Joel. You know where it is. Tell my offspring to get out if she’s barricaded the door.”
Joel nods, giving a relieved smile, and quickly makes his way upstairs. His heart pounds with the anticipation of the moment ahead. As he reaches the top of the stairs, he hesitates briefly, listening for any sound of where you might be, and sure enough, he hears the faint hum of music coming from the bathroom and walks towards it.
Without knocking, he opens the bathroom door and finds you in front of the mirror, applying makeup to a song that he has never heard. The sight of you makes his erection come right back; you have changed into a pleated miniskirt that stops way above your knees, making the skin where your thighs meet your ass peek out. Above the waistline, he can see the waistband of your pink underwear and he has to adjust himself in his shorts.
“Where the hell are you going looking like that?” He demands to know, shutting the door behind him with a click. The music fades to the background as you wiggle your hips automatically.
You look up from your lips, catching his eye in the mirror, and smile sweetly while applying lip gloss. The color makes your lips seem plumper, the shine most likely to accentuate your cupid’s bow if you were to stretch your lips around his cock. You look away again, purposely acting like a brat, “Out with friends. No boys allowed.”
“Seems like you’re dressed to impress someone,” he retorts. If you were to check him out again, you would see the way his eyes are going down your intoxicating figure. He stops at your ankles, knowing how you would be standing on your toes if he touched you between your legs, before going all the way up to your face again.
You snap the lid of the lipgloss closed with a click and place it on the counter. You grab the edge with both hands, still looking at him through the mirror, “Did it ever occur to you that I might be dressed to impress you, Daddy?”
Joel does a sharp intake of air at hearing his nickname. He takes a step closer and you allow him. Without a second thought, he places his hands on your gorgeous hips and squeezes until your giggles make the upbeat song sound like garbage, “You’ll have me thinking about you all night with this skirt, kiddo. I’m not sure I’ll have it.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’ll feel your menacing presence all night?” You grin playfully, making a show of arching your back the way you sometimes do when he hits the right spot inside of you.
“I should run behind you to make sure you don’t expose your pretty pussy to strangers,” Joel lets his dominant hand slide down your thigh until he can clutch the fabric of your miniskirt. He pulls it down roughly to stress his point, covering you up as much as he can.
“You’re pulling it the wrong way, Daddy,” you tell him with a bratty grin, chewing your bottom lip to play innocent, “Don’t you want to have a peek? I’ll let you see up under it.”
“Daddy can’t promise only a peek,” he replies, making a point of his words by letting his bulge graze your ass. You push back into him to allow him whatever he wants without saying it explicitly, earning a moan that’s loud enough for you to reach for the small Bluetooth speaker and increase the volume a little. Your father must question the noise but he hopes that he simply thinks you’ve gone to your bedroom instead, letting the door stay open.
“What the hell is this garbage music?” Joel asks as he steps back to allow you to reach back effortlessly. You reach behind you to grip the hem of your skirt, lifting it with deliberate slowness. It is a teasing gesture, more about the act itself than the reveal of your lacy underwear that clings to your cunt and gives him the perfect outline.
“Stop sounding ancient,” you tease, shifting your weight from one foot to the other to strut your ass. You’re leaning forward a little to be more appealing, so easy to push forward so you have to grip the sink.
“You’re making it sound like a problem, Princess,” he replies with a chuckle. Yes, he could shove you down onto the counter but he chooses to finger the crotch of your barely-covering panties. You don’t seem to have predicted that he would actually dare to touch you in your father’s house, so you fall forward when he pulls your underwear to the side and sinks two fingers into your wet slit. He smiles tauntingly at you in the mirror, “Don’t act like you don’t cream yourself over older men like me or we wouldn’t be in this mess together.”
“What are you doing?” You ask with your glossy mouth hanging open. He turns his wrist to press against your g-spot and sure enough, you’re already on your toes with a filthy moan tumbling out your mouth. He admires the way you always manage to look stupid and cute when he touches you, and he notices that whenever he doesn’t pump his fingers inside of you, you fuck yourself onto them.
“I ain’t doing nothing,” he says casually and slowly drags his two fingers over the spot that belongs to him, the spot he always searches for and likes to stay on. The song is horrible for fucking but it’s loud enough that you can’t be heard downstairs and quiet enough that he can hear the wet squelch when he goes a little faster, “I’m just giving you something to remember me by when you’re showing your pussy to the whole world.”
“That’s not… Joel,” you say his name and he almost believes that you want him to stop but then you arch your back just how he likes and he slips his thumb between your folds to rub your clit. He has your cunt in an iron grip, flicking his wrist repeatedly to see beads of slick threatening to drip onto the tiled floor.
“Nuh-uh,” he sternly says and halts just a few seconds, “You don’t get to call me that when I hear you use your potty mouth around here. Who do you answer to?”
“You, Daddy, I’m sorry,” you whine and earn added pressure to your clit. You keen but then the song ends, and the both of you hold your breath for a moment. Courageously, you whisper, “He’ll hear.”
“Not if you shut your mouth,” Joel barks quietly back, relieved when another annoying pop song comes out of the speaker. He catches the pout on your lips in the mirror, the fake offense on your face that has his dick throbbing in his shorts. He needs to fuck you soon, hasn’t got a long time to do it before your father will get suspicious of what he is up to, but he won’t shove his cock in you before you have begged him to do it.
Then the line comes with a breathless moan, “You shouldn’t be doing this.”
Oh, so that’s the card you want to play to get fucked. He pushes his fingers deeper into you until his knuckles brush your ass, avoiding your g-spot altogether, and practically lifts you on his digits. Your whole chest lays down over the sink and counter, your whole weight on your front instead of on your toes. It must hurt but not more than a dull ache when he pays attention to your clit as he does it.
“I sure as fuck shouldn’t but I didn’t think I’d find you dressed like a little cockhungry girl in here,” he tuts and abuses your perfect cunt. God, it sounds like he is splashing with water by now.
“I-I should be with someone my own age,” your voice shakes, your walls start to pulse slowly around him. It becomes hard for you to continue your chastising, ”God, you feel so good, Daddy.”
“Yeah? Ancient Daddy should pull out his fingers and fuck you while you’re on the verge of coming for him?” Joel mocks. He pushes down and drags the pads of his fingers against your front wall on the way out. His fingers are white with your creamy slick. He smears it over your quivering slit, talking softly while you are almost cross-eyed, “I need you, baby. Daddy has to do it even though it’s wrong.”
“No,” you protest but don’t mean it. You look back at the sound of his shorts being pulled down, whimpering feebly as his hard cock comes into your view.
“Yes, sweetheart, I gotta,” he holds the base of his cock in his hand, slowly dragging the tip through your messy folds. He pushes against your ass first, chuckling darkly when you tense up and shake your head. He teases you, “No? That’s not where you want it? Don’t want to get ass-fucked with your old man downstairs? This skirt surely tells me you like taking it up the ass.”
“N-no,” you let your head hang between your shoulders, exhaling shakily, “I want it in my pussy, Daddy. Please. Until you come inside.”
Joel gives in when you ask so nicely. He presses the head against where you need it the most, slowly letting your warm walls engulf his length while you release a relieved breath. He growls from low in his throat as he buries himself deep inside, touching where his fingers have been just moments before.
“You sure change your mind quickly, baby,” he points out after starting a rough rhythm that makes his thighs smack into your ass, the crotch of your panties straining against your cheek that bounces in rhythm with his thrusts. He settles his hands on your hips, dragging you onto his cock as much as he spears you onto it, “First you say no, and now you wanna get bred? What happened to my good girl?”
“I know it’s bad but it feels so good,” you pant softly, nearly sounding animated with how you moan and groan. You’ve reached to grope your tits through your lime green top, caressing yourself greedily as you are drowned out by some lady singing about Von Dutch, “Don’t stop, Daddy, please don’t stop.”
“Fucking hate this song,” Joel grumbles breathlessly while he keeps a steady pace, nudging something just right inside of you because you fly forwards, “Don’t tell me you’ll go out dancing to this.”
“I’ll come to it,” you groan, sucking in a breath as you start to squeeze around his girth, “Gonna come.”
“Give it to me,” he demands with heavy breathing. He lets one of his hands slide up your spine until it sits on your neck. He tilts his hips forward so he can pound you, rewarded with a squeak that he finds adorable.
Suddenly, the room goes completely quiet. The both of you turn your heads towards the speaker, noting at the same moment that its battery has run out and the possibility of getting heard has upped dramatically.
None of you say a word. Joel even tries to stop his heavy breathing, putting pressure on the back of your head when you squeeze him by wriggling slightly. He makes a quiet noise of disapproval, “Stop it.”
“We aren’t done,” you whisper with a wounded whimper. You try to fuck yourself onto him, “Daddy.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he bites, listening for potential footsteps that could lead to his doom. Instead, he hears your father cheer in reaction to something on the television. Should he? He can’t go downstairs again with a raging hard-on and there’s no way in hell that he is jerking off in here alone like some perverse madman. He makes a decision.
Leaning down over your very still frame, he catches onto the tears that have welled up in your eyes and whispers, “I’m gonna fuck a load into you and you’re gonna be quiet all the way through, got it?”
You nod frantically. Joel’s hand on your hip tightens and he pushes to stretch to his full height again. He bottoms out inside of you, “If you can do that, I’ll let you come on it, okay?”
You nod again, pushing back eagerly to impossibly swallow more of him. With determination and efficiency, he draws back and slams into you with all the muscles in his neck straining to keep quiet. You feel like you have been molded into a perfect sleeve for his cock, like he couldn’t imagine that anyone could ever live up to what you are giving him right now; cheeks bouncing, spine arching, and walls clenching as you teeter on your high.
You come with a tiny whine that he’ll allow and he comes right along with you, high on the danger and the fact that you belong to him so desperately. He manages to just sound like he is doing a sharp intake of air, hinting at a growl, before he fills you with his warm seed, each pulse of your soft muscles milking him dry.
It is a dangerously addictive sensation. He pumps in and out of you until he is too sensitive, slipping out of your used cunt so he can see the drip of his load. He stumbles backward, tucks himself, sticky and overstimulated, back into his shorts, and watches you pull down your underwear and move to the toilet to not spill all over the floor.
You sport a lazy little smile, satisfaction all over your face. It dawns on him what he has done - the deprivation of it - so he tries to distract the feelings of disgust that he has towards himself, “Why are you going out anyway?”
You are both still panting. He grabs onto the sink to steady himself, feeling old as he leans against it while you pee, your knees falling inwards so you look innocent compared to what you have just done together.
“Getting a tattoo,” you reply with a dirty little smile.
That surely changes Joel’s train of thought. He straightens a little, “Of what?”
“Don’t know yet but I’ll tell you where,” you reach to point to your hip bone, measuring about an inch with your thumb and index finger. You beam girlishly at him and he feels his chest tighten with affection, “Right here. Cute, right?”
“Cute,” he manages to say as his mind automatically imagines it right there on your hip but the word comes out a little rougher than intended. He is let in on a little secret that only a few will be allowed to see. Perhaps, he’ll be the one who gets to be the very first to see it, or maybe the one who gets to be the closest.
You finish, wipe yourself, and wash your hands. Then once again, you are close to him but this time it is chest to chest. You link your arms around him, leaning close, “Perhaps I’ll get something that reminds me of that one time I hooked up with Joel Miller, my dad’s best friend.”
“Dangerous game you are playing,” Joel reaches down to graze the spot on your hip with his thumb. He is so into you that it is ridiculous, smirking as you bat your eyelashes at him and filling him with youthful energy that he remembers from crushes in his teenage days. The idea of you marking yourself for him has his head in a spin and has his cock stirring again.
“What can I say? I’m a brat,” you shrug with a grin and when you both hear your father shout at the TV again, you grin with your tongue in your cheek. Yes, you are.
“Oh, babydoll, you make me wanna kiss you,” he almost growls as he leans into you, eyes focused on your cute glossy lips as he tries to capture them despite knowing that he won’t be allowed to touch them.
“Nope, not the gloss,” you tease and gently push him away on his chest. When he tries again, you hold your hand over his mouth and he groans against your soft fingers like from not getting his way. You grin, eyes shining with affection, “Now get out so I can clean myself up. And don’t tell my dad about the tattoo.”
“Fine,” Joel gives you one last lingering look, squeezing your hip before pulling away. He leaves the bathroom reluctantly, stepping backward as he walks out the door to keep his eyes on. You roll your eyes at him without being able to stop smiling.
When he is out in the hallway again, he heads back down the stairs and into the living room. He pats the back of the sofa to make himself known in the room once more, startling your father slightly.
“There you are,” he says, watching Joel walk around the sofa, “What took you so long?”
“Got talking with your kid,” he answers as casually as he can muster. However, your father seems to be completely disinterested in whatever he has been doing upstairs.
“What? Oh, yeah. At least you got her to turn off that awful noise she calls music. Come on, you’ll miss the final run,” he says obliviously, and so Joel joins him in the chair opposite his couch to make sure he doesn’t smell how he probably reeks of sex.
.
.
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dollyyun · 2 months
Text
𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕.𝟏
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SYNOPSIS: Embarking on a new journey was definitely the best decision you have ever made. Ever since your new life started out on the very place you have ever dreamed of visiting, which has now become your reality, everything works in your favour. But you can't deny the fact that deep down inside, you miss the ones who were a major part of your life. Just like that, the universe seems to favour you as you now find yourself in a predicament involving being chased by the very past you thought you had left for good.
PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader
GENRE: 18+ (mdni), adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.
WORD COUNT: 26.9k
WARNINGS: profanities, explicit themes, heavy angst, mention of violence, alcohol consumption, manipulation, corruption, toxicity, smuts.
PLAYLIST: Delicate - Taylor Swift, I Don't Wanna Live Forever - Taylor Swift & Zayn Malik, Reminder - The Weeknd, Party Monster - The Weeknd, Bloodline - Ariana Grande, Touch It - Ariana Grande, run for the hills - Tate McRae, Animals - Maroon 5, Lights Down Low - Maejor (feat. Waka Flocka Flame), Rude Boy - Rihanna, Softcore - The Neighbourhood.
PREV (PART 6.3) | NEXT (PART 7.2) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘
-smut warnings under cut-
smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), dom!enha, mild switch!jake, mild switch!reader, name calling, degradation, knife play, manhandling, bondage, blowjobs, throat-fucking, fingering, nipple play, pussy slapping & eating, anal, double penetrations, edging, crying, squirting, creampies, breeding kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, threesomes-fivesomes.
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After hectic weeks of appeasing clients’ finicky demands and exceeding their expectations, which ensued in you receiving a scant sleep, you are more than deserving to pamper yourself for your competence and industrious work once more. By pampering, it means heading over to the upscale bar downtown to meet up with your best friend whom you haven’t seen in weeks due to respective work and interests.
Besides, what better way to spend your Friday night than to drink to your heart’s content and get wasted with your best friend? Well, maybe not too wasted, considering that your alcohol tolerance has significantly improved over the course of your engagement in spiritious refreshments.
Oh, the lovely irony of how the old you would never have indulged in such indecorous engagement and would totally reprimand the new version of you. Yeah, the old you, as in the saint you once were. Now that you think about it, a lot has changed, including you. 
You hold back a chuckle, your lips pressing together to form a smile that exhibits your amiability towards the refined patrons passing by you, who in return reciprocate the same courtesy to you as you step aside for them to exit the establishment. One of the many things you appreciate here is that the locals are friendly, including your fellow residents in your apartment building. There is never a day where not a smiling face greets you wherever you go.
As soon as you infiltrate further into the establishment that is furnished with lavish decors and embellishments, your keen eyes glide across the throng of patrons luxuriating and mingling with each other before they land on a certain brunette glammed up in voguish-worthy apparel, who is seated by the end of the extensive booth.
With a smile on your tinted lips, you proceed to make your way towards her, your hurried steps displaying your enthusiasm in finally meeting your best friend, who also turns out to be a saviour, or maybe even a guardian angel. Without her, you know that you wouldn’t have survived on your first arrival here a year ago.
Yes, it has been a year since you decided to wipe the slate clean and embarked on your new life in Milan, Italy — the city you’ve always dreamed of travelling to, which has now become your reality, or perhaps even better now that you have decided to live here.
“Y/N!” Yunjin, or rather Jennifer, heartily greets you with a dazzling toothy-smile as soon as she turns around. Initially, it felt weird to call her by her English name since you were more than accustomed to her Korean name throughout the years you have known her, but you decided to comply with her insistence.
“Jen!” You reciprocate the heartfelt greeting, your face beaming with a smile as she latches her arms around you to give you a bear-crushing hug before you exchange cheek kisses with her.
As she examines you, her eyes gleam with approval that aligns with the smile on her lips. “Girl, I swear you look prettier than the last time I saw you. I absolutely adore your dress!”
Warmth tingles in your chest, taking pride in your newfound fashion taste. It really isn’t anything special as you are dolled up in a simple off-shoulder ruffled-waisted black dress that reaches way above your knee length, but to hear a compliment from the very person who has been a tremendous help throughout the beginning of your journey feels rewarding, especially after you took many of her advices to heart.
“Thank you.” Your sincerity shines through your tone and crescent-shaped eyes. “You don’t look bad yourself. Dazzling as ever on this fine evening. Makes me wonder why you didn’t opt to work as a fashion designer instead.” You merely jest, casting her a smirk as you slide over next to her high seat.
Jennifer rolls her eyes. “I love dressing up, not designing. There’s a difference.” She states, to which you brush off since you know your best friend that much, while you flag down the bartender and give her your drink order.
As Jennifer begins the flow of your conversation, your eyes soften as you look at the animated glow in her demeanour. It seems that you’re not the only one who has changed much. The Yunjin you once knew back in Seoul is still there, but there is something different about the Yunjin in front of you. She has this specific glow and in the way she carries herself now that you can’t put into words to describe. It is almost as if back in Seoul, she didn’t have the chance to release her fullest potential, or perhaps the real her.
Of course, she didn’t, especially when you knew that she wasn’t exactly happy back in Seoul as she had to live with her mother and stepfather against her will. As it turned out, her parents got divorced during the period when you lost contact with her in your adolescence years, and initially, she didn’t want to leave Milan, where her father had been a permanent citizen here, but her mother won custody over her. Hence, you two meet again at the start of university.
Now that her mother has long since focused on her stepsiblings, Jennifer used this opportunity to return to her father in Milan. As for her father, you recall the first time you met him just a few days after your arrival here, and you admit how greatly intimidated you were by his imposing figure beneath the thousand-dollar polished suit as well as his steely demeanour when he scanned you from head-to-toe.
But soon enough, after Jennifer formally introduced you to her father, he finally recognised you as his daughter’s childhood best friend, and so his steely demeanour melted, replaced by something so fatherly that he cordially welcomed you with a big smile and a hug.
Aside from her mother’s wealth, it makes sense why your best friend has an abundance of wealth, as her father is an esteemed CEO who oversees all business operations across multiple diversions in the fashion industry in Milan, including organising the semi-annual popular Milan fashion week. Thanks to the powers and connections he wields, he manages to secure a career for his beloved daughter, ensuing her position as an international marketing specialist, to which is her ability to perform remarkably ever since, thanks to her degree in international business.
Whenever you see the sweet, endearing interaction between the father and daughter, a fleeting yet profound sadness hits you, accompanied by envy, as they remind you so much of the dynamic between you and your father. It does make you want to return to Seoul on impulse, but you know you can’t when your resolve to be here is permanent.
Plus, you have a career now, and you owe it all to Jennifer and her father, who helped you from the start after you mapped out your options of which career path you truly desire most. Honestly, there was none, but you obviously couldn’t live here without any income, and you felt awful for having to spend Jennifer and her father’s wealth despite their insistence, as they had pure intentions to help you get on your feet and stabilise yourself.
After much deliberation, you decided to pursue a career that is obviously equivalent in value with your degree in journalism. Hence, you are a freelance writer who is completely diverse and wields prowess in the field that you are specialised in. It was a rocky start, but eventually you gained momentum.
You have grown to love your job because not only do you have flexibility in choosing projects, setting your own schedules, and working from various locations, but this job also allows you to meet new people, aka your clients. Since your line of work involves socialising, you don’t really feel as timid as you were before, and instead, meeting different people elevates your self-confidence. Even more when your clients always seem to leave with satisfactory written all over them as well as in their feedback due to your top-notch professionalism.
You didn’t earn much in the beginning, but now, with your experiences and continuous improvement in your expertise, you earn more than you expected, for which you are thankful as your income keeps you going here, especially when you have every intention to repay Jennifer and her father, although they will always refuse whatever you wish to repay them.
Genuinely, from the bottom of your heart, you will always feel eternally grateful to Jennifer and her father. Without them, you would’ve lived out in the streets instead of the sumptuous three-room apartment, which the father-daughter duo decisively chose for you despite your objection to their generosity once more.
From the moment you first stepped into the vacant apartment and spotted the balcony situated adjacently at the living room, you immediately fell in love with the picturesque metropolitan that looked even more vibrant at night, as it was exactly what you had envisioned of your dream apartment with a stunning view to wake up to. Plus, where you live is a thirty-minute drive away from the renowned Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II.
Although your new residency falls under the deluxe category, you tried your utmost by furnishing and decorating your apartment more homely, albeit there is a discernible emptiness you can’t seem to disregard amidst everything that you have put effort into your new residency, especially when there is an annoying throb in your heart.
Nevertheless, you feel content because you have everything you need now — a job, a place you call your sanctuary, a father figure who cares and loves you like you’re his own daughter, best friends who have been incredibly supportive of you even if two of them are across the globe. Plus, you are independent now, including the fact that your mental health has long since significantly improved thanks to Jennifer’s suggestion to seek therapy from professionals.
No longer are you tormented by the dark, unpleasant memories from your old life in Seoul that used to haunt you every day and night in the rocky start of your new adventure here. No longer are you allowing anyone to trample over you and question your own worth.
Everything in your life right now is simply bliss, never mind the fact that you haven’t had sex ever since them, although there are times where you need to indulge and gratify your unabating libido, to which you brazenly bought a rather special rose vibrator. Sure, you did go to nightclubs, be it alone or with your best friend, and make out with hot strangers, but you didn’t go as far. You knew that no one could ever satisfy you the way you wanted, or maybe a part of you so deep didn’t want to betray them.
Your eyes harden as you place down the glass a little harder on the counter booth, drawing your best friend’s attention. “Hey, are you okay?” Jennifer asks softly, her eyes examining your countenance, which you swiftly mask with a deceptive facade as you cast her a smile.
“Of course. I was just thinking about this one prissy client of mine.” You lie through your teeth, forcing out a chuckle, and thankfully, she seems to buy it before proceeding to continue where she left off.
Ugh, why are you even thinking about them? You are very content with everything you have now, and you have been doing perfectly fine without them for about a year now. 
Before you can get too carried away to delve into it, your attention is drawn to Jennifer, whose eyes light up as she looks over your shoulder with a smile on her countenance, prompting you to look as well, only to be met by two familiar males looming over your figures, each decked out in distinct yet voguish-worthy apparel just the same.
“What a lovely evening coincidence. Are you ladies sure you didn’t stalk us?” One of them teases; his pink plump lips stretch into a charming smile while his eyes dart between you and Jennifer.
Jennifer scoffs with the corner of her lips curving. “It should be the opposite, don’t you think, Wooseok? Seriously, out of all the places.” She shakes her head before flickering her gaze at her cousin. “What are you doing here, Eunwoo? I thought you were flying to Venice.”
The aforementioned raven-haired male adorns a smile on his face, shifting his gaze from your face to Jennifer. “It turns out that I won’t be needing to fly to Venice any time soon.”
“So, mind if we sit with you?” Wooseok inquires, ignoring Jennifer’s disbelieving yet playful glare as he settles next to her while Eunwoo invites himself next to your booth.
Right, you have forgotten to add these two handsome guys that have now become acquaintances in your new life here. Byeon Wooseok and Cha Eunwoo.
Just like any other person, you were quite taken aback by their striking visual when Jennifer introduced you to them. Of course, you felt a tad timorous of being in the presence of two charming men with distinct allures, but as time passed by, you have grown comfortable with them and their wits. Apparently, Eunwoo is Jennifer’s cousin from her father’s side, whereas Wooseok is Eunwoo’s best friend since birth. According to Eunwoo, he and Wooseok come as a package.
You recall when Jennifer attempted to match you with her cousin, resulting in you going for a date with Eunwoo, only because Jennifer was adamant and both you and Eunwoo wanted to get it over with to see if you two were compatible.
It turned out that you were better off friends with him despite the fact that there are times where you do playfully flirt with him and Wooseok, but that’s how the dynamic has always been with them in your friendship circle. Plus, they care for you and see you as their female friend only.
Sure, both Eunwoo and Wooseok are charming gentlemen who also oversee their family business, and they are more than capable of providing for you, but your heart doesn’t beat for any of them the way it did before with certain individuals, not even a fluttery sensation.
Your heart is adamant, and as much as you hate to admit it, no one can come close to and ever be compared to the four individuals who are now in the past that you have long since put behind you, but why are you even thinking about them now after all your efforts to forget them?
You are very content with the present, so why the fuck is there a palpable longing in your once-shattered heart that you had mended yourself? After so long, why now?
Gripping the glass of cocktail, you proceed to down the liquor rather gluttonously, drawing their attention to you by your abrupt vigour as they watch you with quizzical eyes.
“Slow down. You’ll choke yourself. You can always order for more.” Eunwoo’s gentle reprimand does nothing to dispel the ache you can feel in your chest.
Perhaps rather than effacing everything about them, you repressed every feeling, thought, scent, and face of theirs so deep in the trenches that you have grown accustomed to the point where you are in denial.
“Oh, definitely. Bartender!” You flag down for the bartender again to give her the previous order and double them, earning bewildered stares from your friends.
“Someone is eager to get drunk tonight.” Wooseok comments, oblivious to the fact that you are actually drowning out your sorrows as he watches you take a swig in awe.
“Y/N, I think that’s enough.” Eunwoo attempts to snatch away one of the glasses, but you snappily swat his hand away as you shoot him a scowl. He heaves a sigh before catching Jennifer’s gaze and spotting a flicker of understanding in her eyes as she examines you.
Jennifer has an inkling that something must’ve bothered you, and she doesn’t comment on it, knowing that she’ll only worsen things. She catches Eunwoo’s questioning gaze and shakes her head, conveying her disapproval to leave you be.
“Relax. I have high alcohol tolerance, remember?” You tell him, merely casting him a lazy grin that doesn’t reach your eyes before bringing the glass to your lips again.
It isn’t long when Jennifer receives a call that requires her to head back to her office since she left some important documents that she intended to bring back home while Wooseok offers her a ride, to which she gratefully accepts before bidding you a goodbye, now leaving you alone with Eunwoo.
Heck, you even seem to forget that the older male is still seated next to you as you are preoccupied with your disoriented mind while downing glass after glass of Milano Torino uninhibitedly, hoping that the alcohol will dispel the yearning ache in your chest, until he decides to break the ice after observing you.
“You’re obviously not fine.” Eunwoo points out, his eyes meeting yours and noticing how they seem to glisten with inexplicable emotions under this resplendent lighting. “Talk to me. What is bothering you?”
“I’m fine. You don’t have to play therapy with me.” You scoff out, looking away from his intent gaze to finish up your fifth glass. For a moment, there is silence while the background fades into insignificance, only the sound of your heartbeat in your ear as you stare into oblivion with hollow eyes.
Then suddenly, you feel something nudges you into confiding in Eunwoo, or maybe just allows him to gain a miniscule insight into your concealed vulnerability, even though you swore that you would never allow anyone to catch a glimpse of that vulnerability of yours after establishing an adamantine bearing.
Yeah, this has to be the alcohol-thinking that got your mind into a state of chaos. It seems like your high tolerance decides to betray you tonight.
“Have you ever been in love?” The question leaves your lips against your will before you can stop yourself. Oh, who are you kidding? There is no stopping, especially when you can feel the influence of alcohol affecting your whole being.
Eunwoo’s dark eyebrows jump up in surprise at the unexpected question, though he feels a tad amused by it, as evident in the way his lips form into a wistful smile. “I have, but it’s been years since we decided to break off the engagement and parted ways.”
It isn’t entirely surprising to you that Eunwoo had been in a relationship, especially with a divine face card like his. You hum in acknowledgement, languidly bringing another glass of liquor to your lips. “So what caused the rift in your relationship?” You decide to distract yourself by focusing on him instead.
A flicker of sadness is palpable in his eyes amidst the glistening reminiscentness before he looks down at his half-empty whiskey. “She wasn’t ready to be fully committed and didn’t want to move our relationship to the next level because she still wanted to travel and enjoy what the world had to offer.”
You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his statement. “She could’ve still travelled and enjoyed it even after tying the knots with you. It’s definitely her loss, then. You’re a total package. Rich and handsome.” You state rather bluntly.
Eunwoo heaves a sigh, unfazed by your monotonous flattering remarks. “It’s fine. We ended on good terms anyway. Now, your turn. Have you ever been in love?” He bounces the question back to you.
You feign a wince, scrunching your nose lightly while you dismiss the way your heart throbs painfully. “Tricky question. I don’t really know how to answer that.” You say brusquely as you suddenly find your glass rather interesting.
Eunwoo scoffs lightly, his eyes narrowing at you in suspicion. “More like you’re trying to dodge the question. Why are you afraid of answering?”
You can’t help but feel snappy. “I’m not afraid. I just feel like it’s a stupid question.” You tell him with a scowl on your face. “Forget what I asked earlier. Let’s just pretend that this conversation didn’t happen.”
“You’ve been in love before.” It isn’t a question, to which you feel as though his proclamation smacks you in the face, and when your wavering eyes meet his, he knows that he is right.
Despite the fact that Eunwoo manages to break through the equanimity you vehemently try to retain, your demeanour remains one of indifference as you look away from his invasive eyes. “It was a mistake of mine that I don’t intend to make again.” You utter dryly before taking another swig of your liquor.
Eunwoo winces lightly, recognising the fleeting heartbreak in your icy-glimmering eyes. “Was it that bad?”
“It’s complicated. We weren’t exactly in a relationship, but─ “ You grimace, refusing to make a trip down memory lane. “Let’s just say I was the one who removed myself from their lives permanently of my own accord. It was for the best.”
“Them?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrow inquisitively. “So there was more than one person you fell in love with?”
You narrow your eyes at him accusingly. “Is that judgement I sense?”
Eunwoo raises his hands up defensively. “Hey, I was merely curious. Besides, it’s totally normal for you to fall in love with more than one person. You can’t help with who you love.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Your lighthearted chuckles carry an undercurrent of bitterness. “You would’ve seen me differently if you knew of my past, but unfortunately for you, I’m not one to recall what I’ve tried so hard to bury.”
“Trust me, whatever past you had, I would still see you the lovely and elegant Y/N Kang just as you are now.” Eunwoo reassures you, offering you a small smile as he pats your head gently before glancing down at his wristwatch. “I would love to listen to your whole life story, but it’s getting late and I have work the next morning.”
“Boooo. Only fools like you work on a weekend.” You make a face at him, to which he responds with a head shake and a chuckle emitting from him. “Seriously, working on a weekend is too excessive, even for you. How are you even going to date someone if you always spend your days at the office? At this rate, you’ll grow old and wrinkly alone because you’re always busy with work.”
“Thank you for your concern towards my dating life. Unfortunately for you, I don’t intend to date anyone anytime soon.” His amusing tone drips with sarcasm as he gets off his seat, adjusting his coat around his body. “Come on. I’ll send you back to your place.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’d like to stay here a little longer.” You decline, earning yourself a disapproving yet concern frown from him.
“It’s nearly eleven, Y/N. The bar will be closing in a few hours, and it’s dangerous for you to go back alone at night.”
You sigh, getting a tad annoyed. “Eunwoo, I’ve always gone back on my own, and I turned out just fine. Even if someone were to assault me or follow me, I have pepper spray with me, so don't worry.”
Eunwoo hesitates. “But─”
“I also need some time alone to think.” You cut him off, insisting vehemently before softening your tone. “Please.”
Eunwoo eventually concedes, his lips pressing thinly as he stares at you. “Fine. Call me or Wooseok if you detect the slightest danger. I mean it.”
“I will.” You tell him, your tone providing him the assurance he needed before he embraces you with a side hug and proceeds to depart from the establishment, where only a few patrons are left, much to your surprise. Just earlier, there were a throng of them.
You redirect your focus on the two leftover glasses of yours. Pursing your lips, you reach out to grab one before taking leisure sips, and this time, the wave of inebriation hits you harder compared to the previous drinks you had while the liquor sends a burning sensation down your throat that coupled with the emotions you painfully restrain from making any utterance.
Desperate to quell those emotions, you take a last swig of your drink rather aggressively before placing down the glass and wiping the excess moisture from your upper lip. But it doesn’t help. Instead, you feel the restrained emotions breaking into a tumult that racks through your body.
Fuck, you should not have thought about them in the first place, especially when they trigger something in you that feels like a kill switch. Oddly, tears never spring up in your eyes, but rather, you feel wholly numb that even the goosebumps arising on your skin due to the lack of warmth layer clothing to barrier the temperature doesn’t deter you.
Maybe it was a good idea for Eunwoo and the others to leave you, but at the same time, maybe it isn’t a good idea for you to dwell over your past as the wounds slowly reopen. Maybe, just for tonight, you allow your inhibitions to be let loose as you finally come to admit defeat against your tenacity.
“Ugh, who am I kidding?” You mumble to yourself as you rub your forehead, facing down to the counter.
Yes, you admit that despite the fact that your life is going well, the inhibited part of you truly misses them and influences you into thinking that without them is simply just a cruel existence that you chose to feign ignorance to, when in the deepest depths of your heart, all you ever want is to call their names until they come back home to you.
But after what happened in the past, you are often caught up in a dilemma that keeps you up at night sometimes as you reevaluate every of your choices with one thing stuck in your mind — wondering if you dodged the bullets or just lost the loves of your life.
You wonder at times if they care enough to notice your permanent departure from Seoul, and just when disappointment is about to seep through you, you recall that you had deleted your old contact number as well as your phone in any case they decided to track you down, but considering that it’s been a year, it is more than apparent that you won’t be stumbling upon them since they had no idea of where you truly are now.
A drunkard chuckle leaves your lips at the irony of you thinking and missing them when you were the one who resolutely decided to remove your existence from their lives.
Whenever you walk around in a place full of people, and even now as you scan your surroundings for another time, your subconscious always sees them around in all these empty faces, despite the glow in their demeanour.
In the end, the heart will always want what it wants, no matter how much exertion you put into repressing the dangerous emotions in it.
Feeling an incessant pounding by all the pensiveness as well as the amount of glasses you drank, you opt to rest with your head that gradually feels heavy on your folded arms pressing onto the countertop, facing sideways. You close your eyes, hoping to dispel any lingering thoughts about them, but it is futile because, behind your closed lids, you can see their faces.
You snap your eyes open, only staring blankly at the wall while you can hear the sound of your mended heart cracking. Oh, you are most definitely drunk, because how is it possible that your heart has a palpable longing that hurts so much you can physically feel it?
You want to cry, you do. But it is as though you run out of tears after the times you weeped in your sleep at night in the beginning. Instead, your eyelids feel heavier, threatening to close before you finally yield and allow sleep to take over your vulnerable figure seated by the booth alone.
Though sleep has beckoned, you are still faintly conscious enough to feel something so warm and fairly large enveloping your shivering figure, providing a barrier to withstand the cold temperature, and you swear you feel fingertips tracing down your temple so delicately and warm lips pressing on your cheek before sleep eventually engulfs you whole.
Of course, sleep doesn’t last that long as you find yourself being jolted awake naturally, prompting you to flutter your eyelids open and noticing that you are still in the same bar. The nap was so good that you even find yourself being utterly disoriented.
You slowly raise your upper body with the intention to check your surroundings, but you halt at the moment a familiar cologne hits your nostril emanating from the leather jacket hung over your figure, causing you to freeze in your seat and panic because you recognise his cologne so vividly.
No, this couldn’t be his jacket. There is absolutely no way it belongs to him. You turn around to scan your surroundings with attentive eyes, only to spot a couple seated in the centre of the bar. Otherwise, nothing seems out of the ordinary.
“Excuse me.” You call for the bartender again with an entirely different purpose as she approaches you, noticing how panicked you look. “Have you seen anyone giving me this jacket while taking a nap?”
Much to your surprise, the bartender nods her head, kindling a hope in your chest. “A fine gentleman who also paid for your drinks. It’s a shame that you were asleep. You should’ve seen how handsome that man was.” She gushes dreamily whereas you scratch your head, confused yet terrified at the thought that it could be any one of them, but it is impossible for them to find you, let alone to be in the same bar as you are now.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts ─ that’s what you keep telling yourself while attempting to calm yourself down. Maybe this jacket belongs to a thoughtful stranger, and the familiar smell of his cologne is just a mere coincidence. Maybe you are being paranoid over nothing.
You give yourself a firm head nod. Yeah, you are most definitely paranoid.
Deciding to head back to your apartment, you quickly book an Uber on your phone while you ignore the fact that you are getting comfortable with the leather jacket hugging you. It isn’t long when your Uber ride has arrived, prompting you to make your departure after thanking the bartender for her service. You don’t know why, but the jacket remains in your possession as it hangs around your figure. 
Once you step foot outside of the establishment, you spot the exact plate number as your Uber ride by the curb before you proceed forward. Reaching the black Audi, you are about to open the door to the backseat when you feel a wave of chills through you, and no, it’s not from the breeze.
It is the kind of chill where you feel as though someone is watching you from afar, and you swear you can feel the unknown source of burning gazes that prompt you to look at the car just a few parks away from the pavement curb — a red Lamborghini.
Due to the dim lighting, you squint your eyes in vain as you are unable to make out the person inside the car, but the engine is definitely running. Again, maybe you are being paranoid or just drunk since your head is pounding twice harder now.
You shrug the feeling off before proceeding to enter the black Audi, and you silently thank God that the driver is not the chatty type, allowing yourself to rest comfortably in the backseat and facing the window.
Just as sleep is about to take over you again, you spot something in the rearview mirror. Wait, not something, but the red Lamborghini you saw earlier, revving forward, albeit slowly. Again, you shrug it off, not wanting to freak yourself out over something so trivial, assuring yourself that it is merely a coincidence that the red Lamborghini is heading in the same route as you.
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If there is one thing you hate about being able to tolerate any amount of alcoholic consumption is the fact you are not entirely immune to the hangover that strikes you as soon as you groggily wake up.
The pounding headache persists; even after you freshen yourself up as you head to the kitchen, your hair slightly dampens from showering. As you open your fridge to grab a bottle of water, the frown on your lips deepens when the recollection of last night finally hits you.
You clearly remember tossing yourself onto the couch as soon as you entered your apartment, having been enervated from all the drinking and thinking in one night, but when consciousness dawned earlier, you found yourself waking up in your bed and had been neatly tucked under the covers.
Your forehead creases as you think deeply, but your face twists into a grimace when your head throbs again before deciding to cease overanalyzing last night. You shrug your shoulders and close the fridge. Maybe you sleep-walked to your room, which is not surprising considering that last night’s dwelling at the bar was out of your new character as well.
Heaving a sigh, you grab your phone from the kitchen island with the intention to order food after neglecting your grumbling hunger, but the sound of the doorbell chiming sidetracks you. Confusion etches on your face as you make your way to the door, wondering who would pay you a visit at twelve noon.
Definitely not Jennifer, as she would always text you in advance, and definitely not any of your best friends since both are in Seoul, but when you swing the door open, you are proven wrong, standing there with your eyes widened in disbelief at the unexpected yet pleasant surprise.
“Y/N!” Karina heartily greets you, giving you no chance to recover from being greatly stunned by their unanticipated visit in Milan, let alone to be at your apartment, as she lunges for a bear-crushing hug, her arms around you as she squeezes you.
“Girls! What the─” You chuckle in disbelief, your smile stretching wider as Wonyoung joins in the reunion of your much-needed hug from your long-distance best friends. “Not that I’m complaining, but how, why, and what are you doing here? How did you even know my address? I thought you were on your respective business trips.” You inquire, confusion lacing your tone as you recall your conservation last week when you were in a video call with them.
Wonyoung, as elegant as ever, along with her captivating doll-like beauty, beams at you with a smile gracing her cherry-glossed lips. “Well, it’s a lie. Yunjin was the only one who knew about it. Plus, we wanted to surprise you!”
“For your info, she prefers to be called Jennifer now.” You correct her, smiling mirthfully at Wonyoung’s faux annoyance on her countenance.
“Miss Jennifer standing on business as soon as she landed here, huh?” Karina scoffs out playfully before nudging you by the shoulder as the three of you proceed to move further into your apartment. She slings an arm around your shoulder, casting you a grin. “So tell us, what did we miss out on?”
And so you begin to unravel what happened over the course of this week except last night, of course. You don’t want them to worry, and knowing their overprotective nature over you, it is best if some things are kept hidden.
Besides, both of them already have too much on their plates, especially with their respective careers. After graduating with their master’s degrees, they pursued the paths they had created for themselves at the start of university. Wonyoung is now a public relations writer under her grandfather’s company, whereas Karina is a fashion designer under a renowned luxury brand in Seoul.
Having known and seen your best friends thriving in both their lives and careers sends a wave of emotions that render you genuinely proud and elated for them, just as they do to you. No one is happier than your best friends to see the transformative change in you after what happened. To them, you are still the sweet, kind, and compassionate Y/N Kang, but there is a certain ambience of dominance you exude wherever you carry yourself to.
“By the way, we are also here for Milan fashion week.” Karina moves to another topic as the three of you decide to settle by the kitchen island. “Also a surprise since Jen managed to secure invitations for us. You’re coming too, right?” She looks at you with glittering eyes.
“Definitely.” You have long since anticipated attending the famous Milan fashion week, and thanks to Jennifer, you are invited as well as an exclusive VIP guest. The corners of your lips tip up. It is truly a privilege to be associated with someone who has connections to make the nearly impossible happen.
“Where are you girls staying, though?” You inquire, and from the corner of your eyes, you spot Wonyoung ambling towards the living room, probably to admire your apartment, and so you direct your attention to Karina.
“We’re staying at this five-star hotel apartment.” Karina answers, satisfaction emanating from her in the way her face goes animated as she excitedly tells you what has happened. “We’ve only been here for two days, but we can definitely see why you dreamed of travelling to Milan. The food here is amazing, and─”
“Hey, Y/N?” Wonyoung draws your attention, prompting Karina as well to turn around to look at Wonyoung by the living room since the kitchen island is adjacent. “I had no idea you were into flowers.”
“I don’t…” Your utterance wanes as soon as your gaze falls to the bouquet of luscious roses in her grasp, confusion fogging in your head. “Where did you find that?”
“On the coffee table.” Wonyoung’s eyes gleam with fascination as she examines the roses that no doubt are authentic. Even Karina shares the same fascination as Wonyoung, as they immediately gush over how beautiful the roses are. “Judging by the bouquet, it’s obvious that someone must’ve given it to you. So, who is the lucky guy?”
But they are oblivious to the confusion on your countenance that slowly morphs into horror at the vivid recollection of seeing nothing on the coffee table last night before you passed out on the couch. Dread begins to crawl onto your skin, matching the way your stomach churns unpleasantly.
First, it was you waking up in your bed to which you thought you had sleep-walked, then now, the roses that somehow magically appeared on your coffee table? The coincidence is too uncanny, but then the possibility might be true, to which you fear to admit.
No, it can't be that someone has intruded into your apartment when you know it yourself that you had the door locked last night. There was absolutely no way anyone could climb their way up to the highest floor to get to your balcony without falling to their death.
“A friend of mine. Jen’s cousin, actually.” You lie through your teeth steadily, deciding that it’s best if you don’t alarm your best friends. Your eyes narrow at their reactions, already knowing what they are going to say next. “But we aren’t dating or anything like that. Someone gave it to him, and he gave it to me instead since he wasn’t a fan of flowers.”
“Wait, is he the guy we saw once in her background when we were video calling that one time?” Karina’s enthusiastic inquiry is answered by your mere head nod. “Babe, he’s so fucking fine, and I swear he looked straight out of those vogue magazines. You should try dating him.”
“Agreed.” Wonyoung chimes, smiling triumphantly while they remain oblivious to the distress creasing your countenance. “Plus, you’d look good with him.”
A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “Yeah, that’s not happening. He’s a great guy and all, but I’m not interested in him, nor am I interested in dating. I don’t want to risk myself getting another heartbreak after—” 
You bite down your tongue, realising that you are getting too carried away and dwelling over the past once more. Seriously, just what is up with you since last night? You promised yourself that you wouldn’t dwell over your past again.
Upon seeing a certain yet familiar sombre casting shadow over your countenance, Wonyoung and Karina exchange knowing glances before Wonyoung decides to step forth. “We’re sorry. We shouldn’t have brought up anything regarding dating.”
You smile faintly at her, denoting your reassurance. “It’s fine. I know you had good intentions, but I meant what I said. I can’t afford to go through another period of heartbreak.” There is a palpable tremor in your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by them.
There are a couple beats of silence before Karina initiates, her tone is an unwavering resolve. “You know what would make you feel better? Shopping.”
You chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully. “Please. I’ve had enough of that, thanks to Jen.”
“And I’m not having any of that. You still need to give us a tour around here. Now go on and get changed into something more presentable.” Karina shoots you a coy smile as you reciprocate with a scowl, but nevertheless, you comply.
“Here.” Wonyoung thrusts the bouquet of roses into your hands. “Don’t throw it away. It’s too beautiful to be thrown away. You can place it in a vase or something.”
You sigh softly in response. “Fine. Just wait here and make yourself comfortable like it’s your home.” You tell them before quickly making your way to your room as you grip the bouquet.
You admit that you did have an intention to throw these away, but now that you examine them, these roses indeed look authentically beautiful to be thrown away. Entering your room, you head over to the vanity table while looking down to examine these roses once more.
This time, however, your sharp eyes spot something white hiding amid the roses as you examine closely. Indulging your curiosity, you proceed to grab for it, only for you to hold a mysterious white card.
The rational part of you vehemently urges you to throw away the card while you feel a sense of dread creeping up on you before you slowly open the card to read the messages written on it in black ink.
But as you read it, your hand trembles, which match the way every fibre of your being goes haywire, while you can feel your heart nearly dropping to the pits of your tummy.
No, this can’t be from any of them. Heck, they don’t even know where you are, so it is nearly damn impossible for them to find you here out of all places when you cut off their contacts and bought yourself a new phone.
You quickly put aside the bouquet on the vanity table before attempting to occupy yourself in choosing your outfit of the day in your walk-in wardrobe, but it becomes futile when your mind drifts off to the seemingly harmless message that has an undercurrent danger.
‘You’re still beautiful as ever, sweet angel. Just a little while more.’
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The weekend passes by quicker than you liked when you spend your time with your best friends, bringing them around to the places that you are familiar with, including your favourite ones, and before you know it, the highly anticipated Milan Fashion Week has arrived.
Eventually, whatever happened back then, in regards to the mysterious roses and the leather jacket that remains in your possession, is overlooked, as you have always been preoccupied focusing on what matters in the present, which is exactly what you needed to retain your sanity.
The moment you step foot into the venue, any remnants of worries dissipate from your mind as your eyes twinkle in fascination at the remarkable fashion appeal of the sophistication encompassing the entire event taking place while there is an elegantly unique ambience teeming in the atmosphere. 
Paparazzis as well as reporters can be spotted with their cameras flashing at the exclusive VIP guests, also known as industry insiders — designers from various fashion houses, buyers, fashion writers and editors, gorgeous models, and even celebrities from other countries. Everywhere your eyes sweep over, it is bustling.
Your gaze finally settles on a familiar brunette with her father, mingling with esteemed guests before you nudge Wonyoung and Karina to follow you. Once you reach the father-daughter duo, their attention is immediately shifted to you with the pleasant smiles on their faces stretched wider.
“Y/N!” Jennifer latches her arms around you, giving you a quick squeeze before moving over to enthusiastically greet Wonyoung and Karina while her father steps in to give you a fatherly embrace that you have grown comfortingly accustomed to.
“Hey, sweetie.” Her father greets you softly as soon as he pulls away, and your heart aches once more at how gentle he is, which reminds you of your father. You brush away the melancholy as you give him a smile. “You look outstanding, and I’m sensing my daughter’s touch on your apparel?”
Honestly, you beg to differ from his compliment, not when other guests dressed up to the nines except you. You didn’t want to potentially draw attention to yourself by dressing up too extravagantly, and so with your adamant insistence, Jennifer demurringly chose for you a gorgeous scarlet satin cami dress that accentuated your contours exquisitely, including the fact that you are practically braless underneath, while the colour matches your tinted lips.
You chuckle lightheartedly at the knowingness in his tone. “Of course. My fashion sense is good, but it can’t be compared to Jen’s.” You say, your eyes drifting to your best friends as they are still conversing rather excitedly, considering that the three of them are fashion enthusiasts.
You, on the other hand, are not as passionate as them, but you desire to experience the world-class fashion week that you often see across social media platforms every year. Plus, you’re experiencing this with your best friends, so this is more than you could’ve asked for.
Soon enough, Jennifer’s father withdraws from your mini group to socialise with other businessmen who are most likely his acquaintances, whereas you and your best friend advance forward to finally meet Eunwoo and Wooseok, both of whom had a pleasant dinner with your group yesterday. To say both of them look more charming than they usually do is an understatement, especially when they often draw attention with ogling eyes from the people in your vicinity.
Amidst the overflowing conversation, you take a moment to observe the exuberance in the glow of their countenance, and warmth tingles in your chest at the amiability they exude as they converse with each other. You are more than glad that the two men, despite them being a little older, seem to get along well with the girls.
After posing for some pictures, thanks to one of the cameramen, your group proceeds to head to the main venue, where the fashion runway show will be starting soon. It isn’t long until you and your group have settled in the venue with you seated in between Eunwoo and Wonyoung in the front row, where you are able to view the models in their sophisticated element as they stride on the runway, displaying such professionalism while adorning with unique yet striking apparel.
You most definitely did not expect to be engrossed by the entire runway show, but there is something about these models and the prowess they wield that bewitched you to the point where you don’t seem to notice Wonyoung and Eunwoo conversing with each other closer behind your back for the male to hear her better amidst the background music.
But then goosebumps begin to arise on your skin before you finally sense something, or rather someone’s eyes burning through you. A frown pulls down at your lips as you briefly look over your shoulder, only to see the other guests are occupied with the ongoing runway models.
Your forehead wrinkles in confusion as you decide to redirect your focus to the front. Maybe you are being paranoid, but the sensation of eyes on your figure is unmistakable, prompting you to examine the seated guests across from you.
Yeah, probably nothing, you think. It’s your mind that decides to— 
You force yourself to swallow the gasp that nearly leaves your mouth, and you swear you can feel your heart stop beating momentarily while the time around you seems to slow down. You truly want to believe that what you are seeing is simply an illusion that your mind conjured, but as your eyes continue to lock with his, there is a palpable electrifying sensation just by the connection between you and him that slowly intensifies, bringing dread to settle over your transfixed figure.
The corner of his lips curves up into a devilish smirk while his eyes darken with a cryptic purpose, and the worst part is, he’s not alone. You lock eyes with the familiar face seated next to him, whose lips mirror his best friend’s devilry. No, you must be seeing things, but as you blink your eyes for another time, you have come to a harrowing realisation that they are very much real.
The other two are not anywhere seated in their vicinity, to which you feel weirded out because even you know it yourself that the four of them come in a package and are practically inseparable despite their differences. Still, it doesn’t allay your incessant worries just because there are only two of them here.
Jay and Sunghoon. Although they are seated a few rows to the back from across yours, you can see how a year has changed them, be it for the better or worse, but probably the latter. They look even more mature than the last time you saw them.
Despite your collected demeanour, you are shaken terribly to the core with questions bombarding your head. You don’t wish to assume anything, and maybe their being here is merely a coincidence and that they were invited as well considering they are Chaebols just like your best friends, but the shadows casting over their countenance tell you otherwise.
If what you are thinking is true, then how did they manage to find you, and why now after a year? Were they the ones who may have potentially intruded your apartment and given you the roses while you were rendered unconscious? 
The way they gaze darkly at you is akin to predators finally catching their prey after the long hunt, with the only exception being that they look ravenous despite their steely, collected demeanour that adds more charms to their distinctive dark allures and visuals.
You refuse to allow their insanely handsome faces to dissuade you from taking a particular course that involves you to elude them at all costs, even when your heart has a fervent throb that feels all too familiar. Longing.
Amidst this unforeseen crisis, you try your utmost to defy against your longing for them, but it is gnawing desperately on the walls you built to protect yourselves from any more disappointments and heartbreak, and you fear to admit that you have indeed missed them, more than you should not have.
Hence, you turn away from their eye contact with a heavy heart, and at the same time, the runway event has officially ended, prompting the VIP guests to mingle around to discuss amiably yet professionally, whereas you find yourself being surrounded by your befriends and trying to keep up with their conversation as well as to go with the flow.
When your eyes shift to where you saw Jay and Sunghoon just moments ago, you find them missing from their spots, as if they were never there in the first place. Nevertheless, you uphold your resolve, and that is to stick close to your best friends, whereas Eunwoo and Wooseok have been whisked away by unfamiliar yet esteemed guests, leaving you with your girls to spend the rest of the day sticking to one another.
Throughout the entire event, as you explore the art exhibitions, pop-up stores, and other luxurious sophistication variety they offer with your best friends, you try your utmost to avoid giving away that you are still shaken up by seeing their faces while your inner turmoil feels endless. Every so often, you would check your surroundings for any sight of them.
Eventually, the night has fallen and the afterparty beckons, to which you wholeheartedly decide to join alongside your best friends and some other guests as you need to let loose the exerting tension in you.
The entire reception is bustling with respective pursuits from the guests, but it is the kind of pursuit where the conversations flow much more colloquially amongst each other while at the same time revelling in the piquant cuisines, various beverages, as well as the music that complements with the classy ambience reverberating throughout the resplendent reception.
Withdrawing from your group, you decide to head over to the beverage section, needing another drink to indulge yourself and invigorating your social battery that is ebbing away. A sigh leaves your lips. At least one thing that remains unchanged is the fact that your social battery is just as weak as it was before unless you ingest alcohol.
As your fingers wrap around the stem of the glass, you raise the glass to your lips and take sips of the champagne. A faint pleasurable hum emits from you as you greedily sips for more, feeling the familiar fizzy sensation within you.
Oblivious to your surroundings, you fail to take heed of the fact that your vulnerability as you stand alone by the beverage section is at anyone’s disposal for whatever intention they have towards you at this very moment.
Just as you place down the empty glass on the table, you feel an ominous presence looming from behind you while the backless of your dress allows you to feel their body heat rather intimately, sending an oddly familiar shudder through your transfixed body. Your breath goes hitched in your throat, feeling their warm breath fanning down on the skin of your exposed shoulder.
“I’m surprised to see you here without your boyfriend.” His voice sounds huskier, laden with desire and an undercurrent of ire, sending a dangerous wave of sensation through you, and yet you can’t help but discern how he sounds more callous than you recall, as though he has been through much.
Right, he is most likely referring to Eunwoo, whom he probably saw how intimately you were dancing with earlier, despite both of you knowing that you don’t see each other that way.
Little did you know that it took every ounce of self-control for him to master upon seeing the way Eunwoo’s hands on your hips as you two swayed to the music, and he wants nothing more than to rip off Eunwoo’s limbs for touching you.
You don’t dare to turn around as he continues to speak slowly just for your ears to hear him. “Don’t tell me that he got bored and ditched you?” His tone drips with piercing mockery that has you clenching your fist. “Cat got your tongue, baby? You know I’m right. He probably can’t fuck you better than I do.”
“You don’t know anything.” You retaliate, your voice sounding foreignly cold in your ears. “For the record, you are not the sex God you think you are. He could probably fuck me better than you ever did.”
You know that you are treading dangerously on the razor-sharp blade with the words you speak so disdainfully and the way his fingers tantalisingly caressing your exposed back speak volumes. “You’re right. I don’t know anything, not since after you left, so shouldn’t you be polite and give me a warm welcome?” He tuts disapprovingly.
“I’m not obliged to do so, especially when you’re nothing but a stranger to me.” You say tersely, hating how your heart aches at the words leaving your mouth so coldly detached, but you don’t want him or any of them to ruin the serenity that has been established in your new life here. You don’t need anymore corruption and toxicity.
Mustering courage, you turn around to face him, your steely eyes meeting his amused yet dangerous ones. You take a brief moment and discreetly examine him up-close, bringing more aches to your heart at how devastatingly handsome he looks than the last time you saw him.
His jet-black hair looks shorter with an undercut, and he has it styled impeccably that displays his chiselled forehead, allowing you to see his vertical left eyebrow piercing that accentuates his sharp steely eyes and the familiar noticeable scar on his bottom lip. His strong cologne infiltrating your senses nearly sends you deflating as you recall all the memories you had with him.
“You’re meaner to me than I was to you before.” He scoffs out, oblivious to the fleeting longing you almost exhibited by the look in your eyes. “You’ve changed, baby. Was it him? Is that why you’re looking at me with such disdain?”
“This isn’t about Eunwoo, and stop calling me baby. You have no right to call me any endearing names, Jay.” You seethe out, gritting your teeth. You hate the flicker of disappointment and hurt in his gaze, but then you recall when you were the one who bore the most wounds in the past. “Like I said, we’re strangers, so I don’t know who you are. If you’ll excuse me, I’m heading back to my friends.”
You don’t give him the opportunity to speak as you brush coldly past him, but just as you do, you fail to realise another figure who has been approaching from behind, causing you to halt in your steps when he latches his hand around your elbow.
You look at him in disbelief as he narrows his eyes at you. “Let go of me, Park Sunghoon.” You utter calmly, trying to tame the storms within you. His touch on your skin feels tingling with familiarity, one that is filled with both ecstasy and longing.
Maybe it’s the aftereffect of your departure from their lives, but you swear Sunghoon looks twice as attractive as you recall. His stark raven bangs fall over his eyebrow, doing nothing to obscure his dark eyes from penetrating into your glaring ones. His grip on your elbow is a silent warning, almost as if telling you to comply with him.
“You don’t want to make a scene in front of these people now, so I suggest you come with us obediently, princess.” His deep voice only seems to intensify the butterflies that awakened against your will, as does the endearment that brings back memories. “Let’s talk like civilised people, yeah?”
“We have nothing to talk about.” Surprisingly, you manage to escape from his grasp, and you quickly put some safe distance between you and him. “If I didn’t reiterate this enough, then let me make it simpler for you to understand. Leave me alone, and don’t you dare do anything to hurt Eunwoo or my friends.”
With one last glare at both of them, you immediately blend through the crowd to return to your friends. You don’t realise that you have been holding back your breath and how tense you look until one of them points out, drawing attention to you.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Jennifer inquires, her eyebrows furrowing with concern as she holds your shoulder. “You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine, but I think I’m going to call it a night.” You give her a small reassuring smile, contrasting how your insides are in a tumult upon your encounter with your past that you thought you had left behind. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll text you once I reach my apartment.”
“I’ll drive you.” Eunwoo offers, earning him an appreciative smile from you before the two of you proceed to bid your goodbyes to your friends.
“You looked pale earlier.” Eunwoo murmurs to you as you walk next to him, making your way to the exit. When his eyes meet yours fleetingly, you recognise the knowingness in them. “What happened?”
“I don’t know what happened and how it happened, Eunwoo.” Your voice sounds dejected despite maintaining your steely demeanour. “But I know for a fact that my past is finally catching up to me.”
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The journey to your apartment is a silent ride, which you appreciate much since you need silence to ruminate about what still feels surreal to you. You have an inkling that Eunwoo is more than curious to know whatever you meant earlier, as you can see from your peripheral vision how his eyes frequently dart to you, but hesitation holds him back.
Feeling your head pounding, you grimace lightly as you lean your head to the headrest, facing the window. Just as you have every intention to put your fraught nerves to a temporary ease, your sharp eyesight catches a car in the rearview mirror, bringing a frown to your lips.
Initially, you wanted to ignore and dispel any ill-thoughts of the black Ford Mustang that have been driving in the same route as you, but this can’t be a mere coincidence that it is now heading towards the street to your apartment.
You attempt to calm your nerves that are set ablaze once more, not wanting Eunwoo to notice your discomfort. Obviously, when you saw Jay and Sunghoon earlier, they fucked you up in the mind, so it is highly possible that your paranoia right now stems from your previous encounter with them.
“Thank you. I owe you one.” You thank Eunwoo sincerely as soon as you arrive, trying your best to give him a smile while every fibre of your being is urging you to head inside quickly.
Eunwoo casts you a charming grin. “Nah, you don’t owe me anything. We’re friends. By the way, are you sure you don’t need me to accompany you to the lobby?” He asks, his concerned eyes scanning the rather desolate street through the window.
You shake your head at his thoughtful offer and reassure him with a smile. “It’s fine. The street looks creepy at night, but I’m used to it. Thanks again. I’ll see you whenever.” You bid him good night afterwards before exiting from his car.
You watch briefly as Eunwoo speeds off your street before you turn around with the hurried intention to head inside the building, but you stop dead in your tracks when you spot the black Ford Mustang parked by the curb in your street just a few cars down from where you are.
This time, goosebumps arise on your skin, and you have a strong inkling that this is no longer a mere coincidence. Your harrowing interest piques at the moment the both doors of the car push open, prompting you to hold your breath as you await the reveal.
As soon as you manage to catch glimpses of their identity, or more like their identity being obscured with familiar masks, your pulse begins to drum loudly in your ears while your eyes widen in sheer disbelief. Of course, they would follow you all the way here, but you didn’t expect that they really would, as though to chase after you.
Acting upon your fight-or-flight mode, you immediately hasten to head inside the building without looking back. A brief moment of relief washes over you as soon as the elevator opens automatically before you step inside and press the level you intended to go, which is five floors from where your apartment is situated.
You don’t want to take any risk of them finding out which level you live, or maybe they already know since they might also be the ones who gave you those roses. You take this chance to regulate your breathing, physically and mentally preparing yourself for the incoming exertion as you lean your back against the wall. 
Once the elevator chimes as it opens, you walk briskly as you make your way to the door, where the long flight of stairs is by the end of the corridor. You push the door open and waste no time in ascending the stairs. The sound of a door slamming loudly close from below triggers you as it intensifies your perturbation that has your chest tightening.
A growing sense of dread settles over you, bringing forth anxiety that surges through you as it manifests itself in the irregular rise and fall of your chest, while the gradual return of your headache causes an incessant rhythmic pulsating that parallels your pumping heart, nearly impeding you from the pursuit to your newfound sanctuary as you clutch onto the metal railing.
You feel the burning aches in your calves’ muscles as well as your feet, which are adorned in 3-inch stiletto heels, beseeching you for a moment of respite. You come to an abrupt halt just as you finally reach the last flight of stairs, wanting to catch your breath and trying your utmost to silence yourself from making any noise.
It is times like this where you finally question yourself: why on earth did you choose to live at the highest level in the first place?
But then again, you never had anticipated for anything like this to happen. No, you never would have thought that you would be running for your life out of fear again, not since after you departed from your old life and buried the horrible memories where they would never resurface in your mind again.
Despite the persisting fear that grips you, a rousing anger is palpable in you as a muscle pulses in your jaw while your eyes go hardened at the evocative paranoia you thought you had effaced in your mind. Yeah, maybe you are being paranoid. Maybe the car you saw back there was a completely different one than the one following you. Maybe your mind decides to fuck you up again after so long.
Or maybe the influence of alcohol is affecting your sanity, evoking such apprehension that strikes you as paranoid, but if it is, then the reverberating footsteps from below you as they ascend the flights of stairs should not have alarmed you when they probably belong to other residents that live in the same apartment building as you.
You refuse to look down and check their identity, fearing that they would turn out to be the ones you thought you had escaped from. Rallying your erratic nerves, the door just a few metres ahead of you is a beckoning to your pursuit as you set in motion once more, running even when you are still in heels. You push the door open haphazardly, hastening as your feet instinctively guide you to your apartment door by mere muscle memory.
Once you finally reach, you rummage through your purse before grabbing for your key card, but with your trembling fingers, you fumble with it as you attempt to tap your card onto the smart lock. You don’t look back, even when the sound of the exit door where you emerged from is being opened.
As the door chimes familiarly, you expeditiously open the door and shove yourself into your not-so-humble abode before closing the door behind you securely. You dismiss the sound of discernible footsteps from the outside of the door along the corridor, now feeling safe and sound, with a sigh of relief leaving your lips.
Having grown accustomed to the darkness enshrouding your apartment, you resort to normalcy while your rapid heart rate begins to decelerate as you busily store your platform heels in the shoe compartment and place your hand purse on the entryway table before advancing further into your sanctuary.
However, your steps seem to slow down while your stomach begins to churn unpleasantly as you heed to your instinct that vividly senses the eccentric, foreboding atmosphere. Thanks to the broad windows that allow the vibrant cityscape to illuminate your apartment, albeit dim, your eyes adjust to the surroundings as you survey for anything out of the ordinary.
The thought of an intruder in your apartment is simply preposterous when you know it yourself that you had both the door and balcony locked hours ago. Surely, this is your paranoid mind conjuring another ghastly thought that doesn’t help with your perturbation.
But when your gaze finally settles on a manly silhouette against the vibrant cityscape, maybe you were not being so paranoid after all. Still, despite the violent churns in your tummy, you intend to take feeble steps to get a better look at the intruder while your rationality beseeches you to grab something or do anything to defend yourself against the brooding danger.
The intruder is obviously a male, judging by his physique even when he seems to be clad in an all-black ensemble, and from his laid-back stance, he is leaning behind against the balustrade by the balcony with his arms crossed over his chest.
Not even two steps when the intruder decides to intervene as he leans away from the balustrade and saunters forward, allowing you the stark view of his veiled identity beneath the eerily familiar mask he adorns, to which your eyes widen in both sheer disbelief and alarmed. You’d recognise that red mask anywhere.
Your figure is transfixed on the spot while every fibre in your being is screaming at you to elude him, but it is as though his gaze behind the mask penetrates you, and even in the way he is deliberately stalking towards you. You ignore the way he tilts his head to one side that seems adorable.
“Missed me, my love?” His familiar voice sends you a jarring sensation that has your heart lurching in your chest. The pitch of his voice sounds deeper than the last time you heard him, and a sultry rasp is evident that is accompanied by a brewing ire, especially in the way he exudes such disconcerting danger.
You should be matching his ire, and maybe even greater than his since he intruded into your once-tranquil sanctuary, but it is completely absurd how, in the midst of this, you feel a palpable arousing desire that you haven’t felt so profound in a long time. 
This time, you know that it’s the influence of alcohol again. Oh, it is truly sickening, and you feel revolted at yourself, but maybe the wickedness in you has long since desired to be hunted and preyed on once more.
You open your mouth to speak, but it is as though you lost the ability to speak, unable to articulate your thoughts and feelings that are parallel in a torrent. It seems that he doesn’t feel satisfied with your lack of response as you finally take steps back, mapping the ways to elude him.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart.” He nearly growls out, and amidst the fear, your arousal seems to intensify. “Did you not miss me at all? Because I did, and I’ve missed you so dearly. How dare you leave me, my love?”
Instead of answering, you pivot on your heels and bolt for the main door, acting on your instinct, but the second you swing the door open, a startled yet frightful shriek leaves your lips when you come face-to-face with two ominous figures who adorn in familiar yet distinctive masks you dreadfully recognise.
“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” Even his voice behind that silver mask sounds deeper than you recall, and it is as though they’ve been through so much that accentuates in the way they sound and speak.
“Baby girl loves getting chased and tests our patience, like she usually did before.” His chuckles sound cold and harsh behind his black mask as he saunters towards you while you have long since backed away from your old predators, your mind mapping other ways to elude them. “It’s been long overdue, yeah? Let’s have a talk.”
You scoff, mustering the courage to display your long-established steely demeanour. “Oh, yeah. Let’s have a talk once I put all of you behind bars for your intrusion on my property.” Your aggressive retaliation takes them by little surprise, considering that they have been observing you as well as noticing the palpable change in you.
“Princess has gotten feistier.” He chuckles, but even you can discern how his patience is running thin in the way he sounds. He takes you by surprise as he takes a long stride forward in an attempt to reach for you, nearly growling out, “Come here.”
Of course, with your newfound vitality that incites from the adrenaline rush through you, now dashing for your room, completely determined to elude them despite the palpable yearning in your heart that adamantly desires to return to them.
Pushing open the door to your room, you shove yourself inside while your breathing is ragged from all the running ever since. Just before you can lock the door, a shriek leaves your lips when another intruding yet imposing figure towers over you, adorned in a familiar white mask.
You don’t even have the opportunity to recover when he seizes you in his possession, manoeuvring you and pinning you against the wall next to the door. His palm covers your mouth before you can scream, while the other seizes your bound wrists above your head.
“It’s been a long time, my beloved. Oh, how I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He lulls dangerously, tightening his grip on you while your pupils shake in fear as you stare at him with widened eyes, heeding to the ire that belies his longing. “Did you like the roses we bought for you?”
So it was from them. Even though you did like them, you refuse to admit it. You shake your head vehemently in response, earning you a disapproving tut from him. Your heart pumps harder as he closes the proximity between you two, his body heat is now in contact with yours.
“Liar. If you didn’t like them, you would’ve thrown them away, but you kept them instead.” He slowly removes his palm from your mouth, allowing you more capacity to regulate your harsh breathing. “Tell me that you’ve missed us, that you’ve missed me.”
You bite down your tongue, almost letting your true feelings that you thought you had them obliterated. Mustering the iciest glare you can, you penetrate your eyes into the eye sockets of his mask as you harshly utter, “I didn’t. Not one bit. Now leave, Heeseung─”
In a blink of an eye, Heeseung manoeuvres you again, and this time, you find yourself face-landing on the bed. You hear the door open, causing you to scramble on the bed as you finally gain a better view of your now-four predators encompassing your room, hindering you from any form of escape.
Their imposing figures that mingle with the thickening tension in the air suffocate you, and yet you can’t seem to stop your arousal from leaking from your throbbing clothed cunt. The hem of your dress hikes up way above your thighs as you attempt to crawl backwards, but a yelp emits from you when Heeseung grabs you by the ankles and pulls you towards them.
“We were going to play nice with you, but then you just had to be adorable and make things harder for us.” Heeseung’s voice holds dark promises that send you the pleasurable shivers, causing you to discreetly push your legs together in an attempt to stop the arousal, but it is futile.
“Bratty Princess needs to be taught a lesson.” Sunghoon drawls, and this time, your wrath is wholly eclipsed by the avid lust surging through you as you recall the last time you ever defied them.
Despite your steely, scowling demeanour, your heart races in anticipation, and your mind is dizzying from both the alcohol and the incessant need for them to reciprocate your darkest temptation. You squirm lightly under their penetrating gazes behind their masks that ooze with the familiar dark allure which the devilry in you desires most.
Oh, fuck, maybe you did miss them and their cocks.
Still, displaying your defiance towards them sounds as ever thrilling, and just for tonight, you decide to push aside whatever hurt and yearning in you that were caused by them. Tonight, you need to satiate your feverish lust that has long been neglected.
“What do you say, baby girl? Do you still want to play this the hard way, or do you want to talk?” Jay asks, the mockery dripping from his deep voice matches his imposing mask.
Of course, the answer is more than obvious to you. Supporting your upraised body with your elbows on the dipping mattress, a cold smirk plays on your lips while your sultry gaze is a silent yet powering invitation to them, as does your stark, revealing legs.
“You guys reek of desperation.” You scoff, still smirking, while you feign disgust with your eyes that do nothing to dispel the thickening heat in the air. “Seriously, fuck off─”
“So the hard way it is, then.” Heeseung deprives any more provocation from you as he hauls you up by the arm, nearly has you tumbling forward, but he steadies you as he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look into the dark, hollow sockets with widened eyes while you feel arousefully shaken by the depraved mockery by his mask’s visage alone. “Let’s make it a little fun, shall we? You’re going to try to escape from us, but if we catch you, we fuck you.”
With the persisting adrenaline rush in you, of course you are more than glad that things are now exciting in the most depraved way, but you refuse to give away your cooperation. After all, you had missed being a brat.
“No, fuck you! I’m going to report you for your intrusion.” You vehemently emphasise, and for a moment, you nearly deflate when your eyes flicker down at the necklace around his neck with a familiar ring resting on his chest, causing your heart to squeeze, but you quickly compose yourself before shoving him away from you with your every strength. “See your asses in jail.” You manage to splutter before bolting for the door and swinging it open.
It is odd how you hear none of their footsteps behind you when you expect them to chase after you. Nevertheless, you hasten forward, now heading for the door that grants you the freedom you feign seeking, but your rationality is beseeching you to actually escape.
As soon as you reach, your hand latches on the handle to push down and open, but it won’t budge at all. Huffing, you try for another time, only to receive an automated beeping sound from the smart padlock, bringing dread to you. You are locked from the inside out, and you have no idea how when this has never happened.
“My sweetheart can’t open the door?” Jake’s voice is laced with mockery, prompting you to turn around to see him leaning sideways against the wall of the end of the entryway with one hand tucked inside his pocket while the other holding his phone, to which your eyes narrow. Your suspicion is correct when he is the one responsible and manipulates your chance at escape. “I did a little modification on your smart padlock. Hope you don’t mind, lovely.”
Cursing under your breath, you resort to another plan, which is none, but you make a run from your predator anyway. You find yourself in the kitchen, which you actually never planned to, but just when you’re about to make an exit, a small shriek leaves your lips when Jake appears by the entrance of the kitchen, prompting you to back away.
“Do you know how adorable you look like this? Running away from me.” You ignore the fact that Jake’s breathy chuckles resurrect the butterflies in your tummy, your eyes darting to your surroundings while he continues to revel in the way you look so frantic. “Come on, now, sweetheart. Just surrender yourself to me, and we’ll make you feel good all night long.”
When your eyes settle on the kitchen knife, you grab it on instinct and just on time as he swiftly moves closer to you, feeling his body heat oozing to yours. With a cold snarl, you deftly manipulate your moves on him, now finding himself being pinned against the wall by you with your arm pressing on his chest while the other positions the sharp blade to his neck.
“Wow, sweetheart. I always knew you had it in you.” Jake chuckles again, completely undaunted by the fact that you are holding him dangerously at a knifepoint. “That’s why we’re the perfect match. How truly adorable you are, my dearest.”
“Stop talking and undo what you did to my door.” You coldly snarl at him, your eyes glaring heated into the hollow sockets of his mask. Honestly, you don’t have any malicious intent to harm, only wanting to give him a good scare, or at least you attempt to.
“This brings back memories, don’t you think?” Jake simply ignores your demand, his smirk widening behind the mask as he revels in the way you look attractively brazen with a lethal weapon in your grasp. “It would’ve been more perfect if you wore a ghostface mask. You’d look so fucking good─Fuck.” He groans, a sensual growl evident in the rumble of his chest when you intentionally press your thigh against his prominent bulge.
You scoff in disbelief while the corner of your lips twitches to a smirk that you hold back, revelling in the dominance you assert over him. “Are you seriously getting hard over this? You like it when I hold the knife to your neck, knowing that I could easily end you?”
“Fuck yeah.” Jake gasps lightly as he leans his head back against the wall, baring his exposed neck to you with his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down while he slowly grinds his bulge against your thigh, nearly whimpering out. “Please, sweetheart.”
“What are you pleading for? For me to cut your throat slowly while I fuck you?” Mockery drips your tone as he continues to grind on you. A part of you feels wickedly delighted that Jake is at your mercy, especially as he is evidently turned on by your derogatory remarks. “You like the idea, don’t you? Fucking nasty.”
“At least I’ll bleed to death happily with your pussy wrapped around my cock.” Jake chuckles breathily, his lips curving into a smirk at the deleterious yet salacious thought while his mind conjures up the erotic image that goes straight into his borderline-painful erection. 
“You really are pathetic and a psycho, do you know that?” You hiss, pressing the sharp blade into his skin, but careful enough not to tear it. “Even in the face of death, sex is all you can think about.”
“When it comes to you, then yeah. I’m only ever hard for you.” He rasps, his voice sounding deeper while you discern a certain yet palpable shift in the air. Your eyebrows furrow slightly when he halts grinding, followed by a sigh. “Alright, sweetheart, playtime’s over. It’s my turn now.”
Your face contorts into confusion while you unintentionally loosen your grip on the knife. “What─” A startled gasp leaves your lips as soon as he deftly does an uno reverse on the situation, now seizing control over you that prompts him to possess the knife while backing you up swiftly until you hit the countertop behind you.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the sharp blade on the skin of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head up to look at him while your heart pounds harder against your chest. Rather than the expectant fear, the position only intensifies your arousal coupled with the fogging lust in your head.
“What are you waiting for? Do it.” You jab him with provocation, your eyes glinting with challenge as you dare him to tear your skin. He remains silent, but the knife remains on your neck. You decide to provoke him again, leaning your neck to press against the blade while a smirk smears across your lips. “Don’t deny it. Deep down, you know you’ve always wanted to. From that moment you chased after me and fucked me as ghostface.”
“You know me so well, lovely.” Jake hums as he drags the pointed tip down your skin tantalisingly slowly with purpose. You shudder lightly as the tip ghosts across the expanse of your exposed chest. “But as much as I’d love to see you bleed prettily for me, I don’t want your precious skin to scar other than my mark. Now remove your underwear, and don’t make me repeat it.”
Surprisingly, you comply, trying your utmost not to seem eager while he takes one step away to allow you space to remove your underwear before you let it drop to the floor.
“Sit on the counter.” Jake orders sternly again, and heeding obedience, your palms plant on the countertop to assist in pulling up your body weight. “Now spread your legs, baby.”
You bite down your lip as you slowly spread your legs apart while the hem of your dress bunches up, only to be taken by surprise when he stands in between your legs with his thumb stroking along your slick folds until he reaches your clit to rub lazy circles, eliciting a gasp from you.
“It looks like I’m not the only one getting turned on by this.” Jake scoffs lightly, his thumb doesn’t relent from rubbing your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves while a breathy moan escapes you. “Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we?”
“Jaeyun.” A startled gasp leaves your lips while your heart nearly lurches in your chest when he presses the edge of the knife’s handle on your clit that throbs from the solid sensation. He slides down the handle along your slick folds before taking you by surprise when he slowly pushes the handle into your cunt. “J-Jaeyun!” Your hand latches on his shoulder as you feel a spark of fear within you.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? You weren’t so afraid earlier.” Jake teases you, but when his eyes flicker to yours, he halts his movement, with nearly half of the handle disappearing into your wet heat. He cups your cheek with his other palm, using his thumb to gently stroke your skin. “Relax, sweetheart. Don’t tense up. I won’t hurt you, you know that.”
Your heart melts upon hearing his gentle assurance, and you can’t resist falling for his charms as you place your hand on top of his, your eyes staring into the hollow sockets of his mask as you give him a nod that denotes a green light, to which he resumes his ministrations.
“Jae.” You moan, surrendering yourself to the sensation of your cunt being assaulted by the knife handle as you prompt your legs to spread wider for him, displaying your avidity in his hungry eyes as he watches how you’re taking it.
“That’s it, my girl. You’re doing so good.” Jake whispers amourously, bringing his two fingers to your mouth, to which you understand his intent as you open your mouth to stick your tongue out for him to collect your saliva before his slick fingers make their descent to your clit to rub it with skillful precision that has your cunt clenches around the handle. “Feels good?”
“So, so good.” You moan out your response, your hooded eyes fluttering open and close as you tilt your head up while moving your hips in tandem with the handle being thrust into your nearly weeping cunt.
Unbeknownst to you, another masked predator has been watching since the moment Jake fucked you with the knife handle, leaning sideways against the entryway of the kitchen with his arms folded. Behind the mask he adorned, his eyes darken as he drinks in the erotic display of you getting lost in the euphoria with your legs spread wide and your back arched that causes your erected nipples to be visible against the material of your dress.
Feeling a presence from behind him, Jake casts a brief glance over his shoulder to see his best friend without stopping the momentum. A smirk touches his lips, knowing that his best friend desires you vehemently.
“What are you standing there for?” Jake’s question draws your focus, and when you do, your eyes latch on the familiar silver mask as he stands across from you. Your cheeks go warm at the fact that Sunghoon has been watching you being shamelessly fucked by a mere knife handle. “You’re welcome to join. I’m sure our girl would love a set of fingers to stretch her.”
“Didn’t know princess was into this kind of stuff.” Sunghoon drawls as he saunters forward while you only feel a wave of anticipation for another to ruin you. “Like Jake said, I’m gonna stretch you good for you to take us later.”
A whimper leaves your lips as you feel the loss of the knife handle, causing your cunt to clench at the emptiness, but a gasp tears from your throat at the abrupt intrusion of Sunghoon’s cold, slender fingers plunging into you, replacing what was deprived of you.
“Hoon!” You moan loudly as his fingers thrust into you vigorously, yet it is a familiar momentum you had missed, prompting you to latch your hands onto his broad shoulders with your nails sinking into the material of his jacket.
“You’re soaking wet, princess.” Sunghoon grunts, increasing his pace as he fucks you with his fingers, eliciting a lewd sound from the slicks of your cunt that denotes your arousal. “So tight too. Should’ve fucked you sooner. How are you going to take us?”
But his remarks are drowned out by the sound of your moans that serenade to them, rendering them impatient as their erection is raging beneath the slacks. 
“Sweetheart is dripping.” Jake coos, joining Sunghoon as he decides to set the bundle of nerves aflame with his thumb rubbing your clit. The dual sensation from the two best friends sends you to the teetering edge of ecstasy.
“Fuck. Hoonie! Jae!” You whine, planting your palms beside you on the countertop as you move your hips sensually yet at the same tandem as their fingers. You can feel yourself on the brink of the need to release, your body tauts with tension alongside the knot coiling in your tummy, getting ready to hurtle yourself to the climax.
“I’m going to cum!” Just as you announce, they cruelly deprive you of the orgasm that is slowly ebbing away as they pull away from your throbbing cunt, eliciting a sob from you while tears prickle in your eyes.
“You didn’t think that we’d give you to cum so easily after abandoning us, did you?” Sunghoon scoffs, leaning forward to cradle your face to wipe a single tear running down your cheek. His palm rubs your thigh soothingly before grabbing it. “Wrap your legs around me, princess.” He murmurs, and you do so obediently with your arms hooking around his neck on instinct.
Sunghoon proceeds to carry you back to your room with his hands supporting your buttocks. You indulge your body that has been craving this intimacy with him as you hug him tighter and bury your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck. His familiar cologne is a soothing balm to your nerves.
As soon as Sunghoon enters your room, he sets you down on the bed, prompting you to unwrap yourself from him. With the streaks of moonlight filtering into your window, your eyes spot the shade of Heeseung’s hair that looks lighter, unlike his best friends.
Your attention is pulled by Sunghoon as you look at his imposing figure looming over yours by the edge of the bed. “Strip for us, princess.”
Overcome by a surge of defiance, you scoff, rolling your eyes at him as you remain unmoving from the bed. “No.”
“I said fucking strip. Don’t make me repeat it for another time unless you want a good spanking.” Sunghoon's assertive dominance sends an intoxicating wave to you that nearly suffocates you.
Feigning reluctance, you huff lightly, your fingers curling at the hem of your dress that is bunched up to your hips before you pull it up purposefully slowly, as though to taunt them. All the while, their eyes are in a hypnotic trance at every perfect contour of your nudity despite the lack of light in the room, feeling borderline ravenous as you finally toss aside your dress without breaking eye contact with them.
Then palpable tension in the air feels electrifying that mingles with your anticipation, garnering their attention to your spellbinding lascivious gaze that melds with the hatred while your futile effort to discreetly squeeze your thighs together to repress the incessant arousal in your wet core amuses them.
“Tie her.” Heeseung’s command staggers you, and every bit of your provocation towards them dissipates.
“Wait, what?” But your reaction delays as Sunghoon hovers on top of you, catching you off guard when he curls his fingers around your neck to pin you firmly to the mattress. “Sunghoon!” You gasp in disbelief, your hands latching on his arm to claw at him, but Jay manages to seize them and locks them in place above your head, only for you to feel him tying your wrists together.
As you continue to squirm underneath them with strings of curses leaving your lips, Sunghoon asserts his dominance again to tame you, his fingers around your neck tightening that elicits a strangled gasp from you, prompting you to look at him with widened eyes.
“Behave, princess.” Sunghoon nearly growls out, but instead of intimidation, you feel sensually aroused by his familiar rough treatment. “You’re already in deep trouble for daring to abandon us for a whole damn year.”
You don’t make any retort, having a keen sense that what you did have aggrieved them, and now what’s awaiting you is their depravity that is practically ravenous to devour you in any moment from now.
“What, no comebacks now?” Sunghoon asks mockingly, tilting his head in amused curiosity, whereas you merely glare at him despite his mask feeling imposing on your vulnerable figure, as do his fingers around your neck. “What happened to the bratty princess with a foul mouth?”
Before you can even retaliate, Jay’s voice cuts through the air. “Hoon, move.” He commands coldly, and Sunghoon reluctantly gets off from you, now leaving you entirely exposed under their ravenous gaze with your stark nudity on display.
“Care to tell us what’s this?” Jay inquires as he raises an alarmingly familiar pink equipment, or rather, rose vibrator, in his grasp, causing your cheeks to feel warmer in utter embarrassment.
“You snooped around my room!” You decide to mask your embarrassment by the sheer anger in your voice. “God! Don’t any of you have any decorum?!”
“Says the girl who owns a vibrator.” Jay retorts calmly, and you can sense the annoying smirk on his charming face. “So you didn’t manage to find anyone to fuck you good throughout the year, baby?”
You ignore the endearment again, scoffing. “I have needs, just like you guys do when you beat your meat, and who says I didn’t manage to find someone?”
It looks like none of them is obviously appreciative of your statement, even though you are merely taunting them, as evident in the way the tension becomes unbearably hot. The next thing you know, Jay brings down the functioning vibrator to your clit, sending you jolting shockwaves of pleasurable sensation through your body.
“Ungh! Fuck!” You moan loudly, your eyes rolling to the back with your neck arching, and your legs threatening to close due to the overpowering sensation from the vibrator as he set it on the highest level, but Jake and Sunghoon pin your legs on each side, preventing them from closing. “Please! It’s too much!”
“Too much? I recall a certain slutty princess wanting to cum earlier.” Sunghoon smirks, revelling in the way you are borderline ruined just by your own vibrator, to which Jay presses deeply onto your clit that is going ablaze. “So you’re going to cum for as many times as we want you too.”
It feels tortuous despite the persisting pleasure that derives from your clit area, which is nearly sensitive. With your binded wrists, you can only afford to squirm under their hold. A series of moans and cries leave your lips while your hips move with little resistance in an attempt to feel the vibrator deeply.
It isn’t long until you can feel it as your impending orgasm that is teetering at the precipice finally crashes down like tidal waves, releasing fluids as they gush out from your pulsating cunt that is ready to be stuffed full by their cocks.
“So fucking messy,” Jay tuts, deciding to show you a little mercy as he removes the vibrator from your now-sensitive clit, but he lands a slap on your slick folds before repeating for a few times, causing your hips to jolt up involuntarily at the impact. “And that’s only the first orgasm.”
As soon as Jake and Sunghoon unpin your legs, you close them instinctively and turn to one side as you bring your tied wrists to your chest, your mind fuzzing from the aftermath of that intense orgasm. You hear shuffles from them, probably clothes discarding, and the next thing you know, hands seize your legs to pull you down towards them, eliciting a yelp from you before they haul you up.
Your heart flutters at the close proximity between you and Jay as he holds you close to him, his fingers caressing your cheek tenderly feels deceptive, but nevertheless, you savour whatever bits of affection he gives before you feel a hand tugging you and beckoning you to him.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Jake’s voice sounds huskier than usual as he pulls you down with him, settling you on top of him and aiming his erection towards your cunt before he forces you to sink down on him.
Since it has been a year since you had proper sex, your cunt is forced to get accustomed to the sheer girth of his cock, your walls welcoming him tight while you moan brokenly by the remnants of resistance.
“Jaeyun.” You whimper as he grips your hips to move you in a bouncing motion for good measure before his arms envelope your body to pull you down with him as he lays on his back. You whine, imploring him to resume his thrust, but he remains unmoving until you feel another presence looming over your docile figure with his hand spreading your supple butt.
You nearly jolt at the abrupt sensation of the heavy girth of his cock smacking your ass repeatedly. “We’re going to fuck your holes at the same time, baby.” Jay says, his tone sounding smug, whereas you begin to panic as you recall the blistering pain the last time they fucked you in the ass.
“W-Wait! I don’t know if it’ll fit!” But your protest goes unheard as Jay slides his cock into your tight hole, tearing a broken gasp from you at the familiar sensation. Both Jy and Jake waste no time in thrusting their cocks into your holes, setting a pace that sends you reeling in both pain and pleasure that slowly surges through your body.
“Fuck, baby.” Jay groans, his head tilting up as he stands by the edge of the bed while gripping your hips for leverage, working in tandem with Jake with the sound of your skins slapping against each other due to the borderline vigorous pace they set in motion.
“Sweetheart’s still so tight even after all this while.” Jake rasps, lifting his head to press a kiss on your shoulder with his masked lips while he holds you by the plumpness of your butt cheeks as he thrusts into you. “Don’t worry. We’re always going to keep you full with our cocks.”
“That’s fucking right.” Jay grunts from behind you, delivering a brutal yet deliberate thrust that has your body jolting forward and staying completely still as he buries his cock deeply and dumps his cum into your anal. “You’re not going to leave us like that again.”
Their promises go unheard by you as you are too caught up in the delirium. “P-Please, more!” You plead in a sob, desperately moving your hips to meet Jake’s thrust while Jay remains buried in your anal.
“Greedy baby.” Jay coos, brushing your hair away from sticking to your face before tangling his fingers in your hair to grab it in a makeshift ponytail as you are forced to form an arched body. “Baby girl wants more, so fuck her harder, Jake.”
Jake complies, increasing the pace that elicits lewd sounds from your slicks of arousal. His once slow, deliberate thrust changes into one that has your eyes going white and mouth parted open with silent moans.
With Jake’s loose arms falling from your body, Jay grasps the opportunity to haul your body up before he deftly binds your arms together with the tie from behind you while Jake remains seizing control over your hips to meet his thrust, causing you to bounce on his cock.
“Jay.” You moan out as Jay amplifies your heightened pleasure with his fingers tweaking and pinching your sensitive nipples, occasionally palming your tits. With Jake’s thrust going relentlessly frenzied, your climax looming with an intensity that feels familiar, causing your cunt to clench and unclench around him.
“I’m going to cum inside you, sweetheart. Fill you full of my babies.” Jake’s voice is laden with lust and a hint of longing, while the pitch of your moans goes higher as he fucks you harder. “Yeah, you’d like that, don’t you? Our babies will look so beautiful.”
With one last thrust, you tumble over the edge of ecstasy with white-hot pleasure surges through you as you cream all over his now-lathered cock while he buries himself to the hilt, filling your womb with his babies just as he promised.
A weak moan leaves your lips, feeling the tantalising drag of Jake’s cock along your white-painted walls as Jay slowly lifts you up from him before he settles you on the bed, facing the ceiling. Your eyelids feel heavier as you grapple to bask in the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night.
But of course, your masked predators never finish with you. “Don’t lose yourself to sleep now, princess. We haven’t had our turns yet.” Sunghoon’s cocky voice diminishes the slumber that beckons you. “You haven’t even had your punishment yet.”
As soon as those words leave his lips, a painful smack on your smeared-cum folds causes you to jolt from the impact, eliciting more sobs from you as Sunghoon and Heeseung work in tandem to deliver your punishment. One slapping your nearly-reddened cunt while the other rubbing your sensitive clit with torturous precision.
“You dared to leave us when you promised to stay by our side.” Heeseung’s deep, sombre voice that carries an undercurrent of laden lust overpowers the sound of your sobs and moans, aligning the way he delivers wet slaps to your cunt. “A year without you─ Fuck,” He lands another slap that punctuates his deep ire while tears stream down your cheeks. “You were so cruel to abandon us, beloved.”
Your heart clenches at the noticeable crack in his tone. This time, you release a raw sob that unveils your poignancy, which you have kept hidden with other sentiments you repressed yourself for a year. But you remain silent, refusing to apologise when you know you did what you had to, despite the regret.
After what it feels like forever, your punishment ends with Heeseung soothing your abused folds with the gentle padding of his fingers while your breaths become laboured from the crying. You thought they would be gentle with you after the intense punishment, but Sunghoon proves you wrong when he hovers on top of you and slaps down his weighty cock on your wet folds before plunging into your cunt with one swift thrust.
“Hoon!” You gasp out, his hips pistoning harder and faster as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. Just like that, your arousal returns to your heated core. Your glazed eyes stare at him, hating how you can’t see the contortion in his charming face and his upper body still clad with the layers of his clothes, just like the others.
“Wrap your legs around me, princess.” Sunghoon grunts, halting his thrust while you take this signal to wrap your legs around his waist with his arms securing around your body. As he holds you in the air, you try your utmost not to bounce on his cock, even though you are tempted too.
“We’re going to fuck your sweet cunt at the same time, princess.” Sunghoon tells you as he slowly settles you back on the bed, only for you to feel a warm body in contact with you from behind. “Fuck you full however long we want to.”
Your moans go straight to Jay and Jake’s twitching cocks as they watch you in fascination, their eyes transfixing on your pussy that is welcoming Heeseung while Sunghoon remains buried in you.
“Hee, Hoonie.” You whimper, needing them to fuck you into oblivion. “More, harder.” It is as though coherency leaves you from the moment they start to thrust into you potently, working well in tandem with one push and the other pulls before they exchange and repeat the motion.
“You were made for this, princess. Made to take our cocks.” Sunghoon growls, sending shivers down your spine while you feel helpless with tied arms behind you pressing against Heeseung’s stomach. “Everything about you is made for us.”
“Yes.” You moan out, your walls clenching around them elicits collective groans and moans from them before their thrusts become more fervent and punishing, bullying their cocks into your abused cunt, and yet you feel such longing in the way they hold you close.
“Never going to let you slip from my fingers again.” Heeseung says in between bated breaths next to your ear, his fingers descending to rub your clit and adding more to your building pleasure. “Gonna breed you until we’re satisfied.”
“Fucking breed you so you can’t escape from us.” Sunghoon mutters harshly, using his other hand to grab you by the neck, enough to apply pressure that accentuates his promises. “If you think you can run away with our babies in you, then you have another thing coming, princess.”
You moan weakly in response, focusing on the white-hot pleasure surges through your body while your impending climax is teetering once more. You can feel their cocks swelling in you, amplifying your overall pleasure.
“Yeah, baby, cum for us.” On Heeseung’s command, your cunt releases the gush of fluids as you squirt messily everywhere, causing your beeding to be completely drenched, with their cocks still thrusting into you while your body convulses between them.
“We got you, my love.” Heeseung’s voice is a velvet stroke in your ear, calming you down from your high that is accompanied by his hand stroking your bulging abdomen from their girth, their thrust unrelenting.
“Give us one more, princess. You can do it.” Sunghoon’s tone is akin to Heeseung, albeit stern but with a tinge of palpable gentleness that has you mewling, feeling moved by their words that have reignited your arousal tenfold and caused you to arch into their scorching touch while your cunt pulsates with each precise thrust that hurls you into a new height of ecstasy.
Getting lost in the heady mix of lust, moans, and sweats amidst your entwined body, you can feel your pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo that mingles with theirs, eliciting moans and grunts from the three of you, and the sensation getting more intense.
Finally, the knot in your tummy snaps as you surrender yourself to the pull of ecstasy, fluids gushing out for the third time as you squirt uncontrollably for them before they follow suit with primal roars as they bury their cocks to the hilt of your womb, keeping their words true as they seal you with their fate for the better or worse.
Following the aftermath of your fiery yet passionate encounter, you go slump on top of Heeseung while Sunghoon slowly withdraws his cock from your spent cunt with a sigh. After contemplating, Heeseung removes himself from you, eliciting a whimper from you at the sheer sensitivity.
You flutter your eyes close, resting momentarily while you slowly wrap your head around about what the fuck happened in just one night, and the night isn’t even over, especially for you. You feel full with their cum they had fiercely dumped into your womb, causing it to leak from your gaping cunt. You feel hands untying your restraint from behind, granting your aching arms the freedom they were deprived of as you rub them with a wince, leaving your lips.
When your eyes flicker to your masked men who are surrounding the bed, tension eventually brews, bringing the familiar wave of heat to you as you notice the way they seem to be focused on your cum-smeared cunt leaking down.
“Fuck me again, please.” You blurt out in a plea before you can stop yourself. With your hooded lustful eyes, you gaze at them sensually as you bite down your lip, your fingers finding their way to your cunt before you rub your sticky clit, enticing them in the way you arch in your own touch with your legs spread lewdly. “I want you. All of you.”
“You heard our girl. She wants all of us.” Heeseung tells his best friends, a soft smirk unfurling on his lips as he looks at them. “Let’s give her what she wants, and maybe even more.”
Things escalated more heatedly from that moment forth, your heightened libido matching theirs that you even cooperate well with them, despite the painful nostalgia it brings you back to the past, and it is absurd to you how the orgy that taints your once tranquil night feels natural. Of course it is. You have always fantasised for them to fuck you just exactly like this with their masks on.
“Fuck off, dude. You already dicked it in her. It’s my turn now.” Jay snarls at Jake, and you can only imagine the scowl on his face behind the mask. Yes, they are still wearing their mask, and miraculously, they are able to withstand the heat. You feel Jay’s possessive grip on the flesh of your bum, causing you to roll your eyes at their banter. “I’m not about to fuck her with your dick in her again.”
“Why? Afraid that you’ll get turned on by my dick instead of her pussy?” Jake retorts, grabbing his shaft to point aim at your anal that has been prepped by Sunghoon. “Nothing wrong with some bromance.”
“Either the two of you stop arguing and start fucking her, or I’ll do it instead.” Sunghoon voices out his annoyance that is accompanied by your whine of agreement. “Be grateful that you got both her pussy and ass. I got her mouth.”
“Better than nothing.” Heeseung sighs, watching as you unhinge your jaw for Sunghoon and welcome him when he slides his cock into your mouth. He can see the way your throat bulges each time Sunghoon fucks his cock deeper, eliciting gurgled and choked sounds from you in between moans from being fucked by Jay underneath you, whereas Jake uses your anal hole to fuck you fervently.
Feeling a little neglected, Heeseung steps forward and grabs your hand, to which you seem to understand his need, prompting your hand to latch on his cock that is completely erected before you finally fist him. Thankfully, with the strength of Jay and Jake supporting your body, you are able to satisfy Heeseung with how dexterous you are with your hand.
With the four men being occupied by your every hole and touch, there is a twisted symphony of dominance and submission that mingles with their carnal lust. Their affectionate praise and derogatory enunciating to you intensifies your heightened libido, while your depravity desires for them to corrupt you with their intoxication it had dearly missed.
“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me. You’re going to cum, yeah?” Jay rasps, gripping the flesh of your bum with his nails, causing indents to your skin as he presses them, his thrusts remaining vigorous as though he intends to obliterate you. “You always get so fucking wet. Squirt for me again.”
And you do, your screams and moans being muffled by Sunghoon’s shaft as he fucks you deeply until he reaches your throat, using you like his fleshlight. Your orgasm crashes down on you for the ninth time, your cunt spasming around Jay as you squirt profusely, while at the same time, Heeseung’s cock is spurting with his cum, making a mess all over your hand.
Jake, who has been trying to attain his orgasm, feels frustrated by the fact that your anal hole does nothing to help him, and so he withdraws from your now-gaping hole, only to shove his thick girth into your cunt that remains squirting.
“Dude!” Jay groans, throwing his head to the back in frustration while you gasp at the abrupt intrusion that sends your already-stretched cunt a blistering pain. “I just told you─”
“Shut up. Either her pussy or your virgin hole.” Jake snaps at him, groaning at the sensation of your walls vacuuming him. “Don’t fucking test me.”
“Damn. Are you sure you’re not gay?” Sunghoon manages to make a wit despite approaching his climax as he uses your mouth like the way he uses your pussy, causing you to roll your eyes to the back. 
Jake scoffs, unfazed by the question, before he rams his cock into you harder while you feel him hitting your cervix deliciously, which sends you into a new blissful euphoria. “I don’t fucking care. As long as there’s a hole, I’ll fuck into it.”
It isn’t long until Sunghoon has finally dumped his cum into your throat, forcing you to swallow every drop before he withdraws from you. Your breathing is ragged, with your chest heaving up and down from every exertion. A breathy moan escapes you as Jay and Jake get frenzied in the way they fuck your weeping cunt.
“Can we─” You pause as soon as Heeseung replaces Sunghoon, standing in front of you with his cock going erect once more. You whine as he teases you with the head of his cock, giving you a light slap on the corner of your lips. “Can we take a break after this?”
“My beloved, I don’t think you understand what you’ve just started.” Heeseung says softly, his fingers brushing away your strands from your sticky face, and his gesture is a deception you recognise. “We’re going all the way, no stopping. It’s what you get after leaving us.”
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Before the daybreak dawns, you have already expeditiously prepared for your departure once more, albeit it isn’t permanent as your purpose is solely to avoid them for as long as you can, especially after what happened a few hours ago before all of you finally passed out in your room.
Hence, the reason why they wake up to find you nowhere in your own apartment, having been aroused by an odd feeling of stark coldness before realising that it derives from your sudden absence. Instinctively, they panic at the thought of you abandoning them once more, and their devastation returns when one of them spots a pink sticky note on the coffee table.
‘Surely, you guys know the way out the same way you got in without invitation. Since you got what you wanted last night, stay away from me this time, and I mean it.’
The devastation is eclipsed by resentment, wondering what went wrong when last night was nothing but pure bliss with you, which they haven’t felt in a long time, so they can’t understand why and how your mind that is filled with such complexity works.
“We should stay until she gets back.” Jake suggests, his eyes glinting with hope as he stares at his gloomy best friends. “She can’t stay outside all day till night time.”
“She’s changed, Jake, so yes, she can. We can’t underestimate her.” Heeseung heaves a sigh, masking his disappointment as he doesn’t wish for them to see his weak moment. “We should leave, and Jake, undo the hack shit you did to her door.”
“Let’s give her some time to think.” Jay voices out his opinion despite feeling displeased with himself. “We’ll come back for her in a few days or so. She can’t avoid us forever.”
“I don’t want her to hate us anymore.” Sunghoon murmurs, his demeanour turning crestfallen, a rare display. “I can’t afford to lose her—Ah, fuck it. I’m not going to lose her. I’ll lock her up somewhere if I have to.”
“We all can’t afford to lose her, Hoon.” Heeseung says, wearing a grim countenance. “We’ll be damned if we ever do, which is why we must fix what we broke properly this time.”
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Despite their differences, their unwavering devotion to you is something that they have in common, which derives from the feelings they have always harboured for you, even after you departed from their lives. Feelings that are beyond platonic as well as the affection that is only reserved for you, and no matter their prominent Casanova reputation in the past, no one has ever made them feel so deeply until you.
Sure, it started out as infatuation that stemmed from their preying on you in order to corrupt you, but eventually that infatuation turns something so profound and darker that passed beyond the borderline of obsession, and unbeknownst to you, you made them far more dangerous than they originally were before.
They would have killed for you if you had asked them to. They would have done anything for you, anything, no matter the price. All they wanted was for you to stay by their side until the end. Hence, after learning of your departure, it drove them to the brink of their sanity, just stark madness.
It was even worse when they didn’t find out directly from you but from their trusted apprentices, also known as the now-leaders of Devil’s Knights. It was indeed an upheaval night of rage and betrayal.
--------
“Jungwon, you might want to rethink this. It isn’t too late to back out.” Riki murmured lowly to his best friend, whose eyes hardened with such resolve as they stared straight ahead at specific individuals. “This is definitely a bad idea.”
It had been only a day since you left, but Jungwon felt terribly awful for the now-ex leaders upon seeing how the long distance they forced themselves to establish in order to give you space disheartened their spirits and the fact that they had no knowledge of your planned departure. Jungwon felt that it wasn’t right to keep them in the dark any longer, and he doubted that they wouldn’t ever find out about you.
“If they ever plan to kill us after this, trust me when I say that I’ll be doing them a favour by killing you first instead.” Sunoo whispered hotly to Jungwon, his foxy-like eyes glaring into Jungwon’s face, seeming to amuse two of the leaders ahead while the other two maintained austere demeanours. Sunoo continued to express his annoyance to his best friend. “Seriously, do you even realise that you’re asking for a death wish by coming here?”
Jungwon only grimaced in response, but he did reevaluate on this matter several times for the past days, and he came to a conclusion that they must be alerted about this matter post haste, never mind the fact that he might be skinned alive. Sunoo and Riki had implored him even before they came to the palace, and both of them vehemently intended to keep their words, which they had promised you. They might be as detrimental as the leaders, but they were a man of their words.
“You said you got news to tell us, so don’t keep us waiting.” The three of them flinched at the Sunghoon’s flinty tone, prompting them to cease whatever they were doing as they diverted their attention to him.
Jungwon discreetly clenched his fist, swallowing down a lump in his throat while mentally preparing himself, his sharp eyes betraying none of the turmoil within. “It’s about Y/N.” He starts off, his voice coming out strong. “We came over to her place and told her everything.”
“What was her response? Has she decided to forgive and return to us?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow inquisitively, his stance displaying an avid interest while his eyes flickered with longing that made the Jungwon inwardly wince.
“Not exactly, but we brought Beomgyu to her, and as expected, the bastard didn’t apologise to her.” Sunoo answered for Jungwon, masking his nervousness with his usual quirk, his lips forming a crooked smile. “She punched him after he insulted her.”
“That’s our girl.” Sunghoon’s tone was filled with such pride and affection for you, his lips curving into a smirk as he imagined how good you punched Beomgyu.
Jay, who had been silently studying their body language and examining the contortion in their faces with penetrating eyes, was acutely aware that the three of them were hiding something from them, especially after knowing them for years. 
“You’re hiding something.” Jay’s stern statement seemed to intensify the foreboding atmosphere in the living room. His dour countenance shaken them inwardly. “Fess up, or you won’t be allowed to leave.”
Sunoo and Riki exchanged wary glances before they looked at Jungwon, whose demeanour remained unchanged, and they knew that there was no changing his mind.
“Y/N isn’t here anymore. She left Seoul yesterday.” Jungwon finally revealed the truth, his eyes carefully examining the expressions plastered on their faces. “
“What do you mean she left Seoul?” Heeseung re-emphasised the question rather slowly, but they could sense the danger lurking beneath his treading words.
“I meant, she left Seoul permanently. She won’t be coming back.” Jungwon elaborated, nearly rambling as the tension was palpable. “I just thought of telling you this before any of you decided to go over to her house─”
“And you thought it was a good fucking idea to tell us now?!” The three of them were caught off guard by Jake’s raging outburst, and they knew that they were fucked up because Jake had never shown and directed his wrath towards them for as long as they could recall.
“Wait! We can explain!” Just as Sunoo intended to plead, Jake marches over in an attempt to lunge for Jungwon and give him a good punch in the face, but Jay immediately stepped forward and grabbed Jake before things could turn into a nasty brawl.
Despite brimming the same ire, Jay remained composed, a muscle pulsing in his jaw as he held Jake back while the latter was seeing red. “Calm down! Punching Jungwon or any of them isn’t going to do anything, let alone bring her back!” Jay barked at Jake, who easily broke free from his deadly clutch.
“But they kept this from us when they should’ve told us straight away! And now she’s gone!” Jake was practically seething, veins protruding in his neck and eyes glaring heatedly that could probably make anyone outside of their circle wet their pants. His knuckles were painted white by how tight he clenched his fist, mastering self-control when he catches Heeseung’s stern eyes, a silent message for him to restrain himself.
“I agree with Jake.” Sunghoon added in, his tone remaining impassive, but the emotions in his eyes were storming with both anger and devastation at the revelation. His eyes hardened. “The three of you already know how important she is to us, and yet you didn’t bother to let us know earlier. You fucking idiots.”
“In our defence, we were simply respecting Y/N’s wish! We even gave our word to her!” Sunoo retorted, his once-witty disposition molten by vehemence defensiveness, subtly moving forward to embody a barrier between Jake and Jungwon. “She even pleaded with us, as she didn’t want any of you to know.”
“She knew that you wouldn’t allow her to leave.” Riki added, his dark eyes conveying a knowingness to them. He clenched his jaw, feeling a surge of protectiveness to defend in your honour. “I respect you as my leaders and friends, but don’t you dare blame her for her decision to leave. She deserved better after what happened.”
“You damn right, we wouldn’t have allowed her to leave.” Jake snarled coldly at them, his eyes blazing with intense conviction. “Now tell us. Where did she go?”
“We can’t tell you.” Sunoo’s answer only seemed to fuel Jake’s rage, prompting Jay to curb the latter as he embodied a barrier between them.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?!” Jake gritted his teeth, his outburst earning him a brief glare from Jay, which he merely ignored.
“We can’t tell you, because we genuinely have no idea where she decided to go.” Riki said, his tone sounding eerily calm, as does his demeanour, while his eyes displaying stark sincerity. “Again, she knew that if she had told us, you would force the answer out of us.”
Jungwon heaved a sigh as he stepped out of Sunoo’s shadow, having had enough of this prolonged confrontation and tantrum. “But she did mention that it was where she had always dreamed of travelling to.”
“As if that information would help us.” Jake scoffed, and despite his rage, they could see the devastation racking through him from the devastating revelation of your departure. “You know what? Fuck this, and fuck you. I’ll just find her myself.”
“Jake, wait─” Heeseung called out for Jake, but the latter was too caught up with the tempestuous emotions within him as he grabbed his coat from the armchair before storming his way out of the living room.
“The three of you could’ve tried stopping her.” Sunghoon uttered, a sombre casting shadow across his features. “Then maybe she would’ve changed her mind about leaving.”
“I don’t think it would make any difference.” Sunoo shook his head, his lips pressing together thinly while a fleeting melancholy flickered in his gaze. “Even if she already knew the truth from us, there was nothing that could change her mind about leaving.”
“I’m sorry.” Jungwon muttered, his eyes turning crestfallen as he looked at the three now-ex leaders before locking eyes with Jay, whose eyes hardened with emotions he couldn’t fathom. “We’re sorry for not trying harder to convince her to stay.”
Jay looked away from them with a clenched jaw. “Yeah, I’m sorry too.”
--------
From that moment forth, things were never the same. Living in the palace felt daunting to them without your presence that used to enliven the dull, imposing palace. Their once-unbreakable comradeship between each other had palpable tension, and there were moments where they blamed each other for your departure, pointing blame at one another’s flaws they made towards you in all of the times they had treated you.
But at the end of the day, they knew their own selves were to blame. After the revelation from the three new leaders, days bled into agonising weeks, and before they knew it, two months had passed and they knew that life must go on, even without you by their side.
Despite being utterly devastated by your departure, to which each of them struggled and coped differently, they decided to push aside their ego and cooperate with one another to devise a plan, which was to learn of your current location first before proceeding to another stage.
A sense of normalcy befell the four best friends as they tried everything in their power to find you, and even Jake tried to track you down by recalling the tracker he actually had chipped in your phone, but his hope was crushed when he couldn’t detect your location as you had changed your phone and contact.
They did have some thoughts about going over to your parents and asking about you, but they couldn’t face your mother after her infidelity involving their fathers, so they held some grudges against her. Hence, they coerced Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki to ask your parents instead, to which they, of course, begrudgingly did, only to receive disappointment by the fact that your parents had no idea either.
It hurt them as you seemed to have carefully planned this that not even your parents knew about which state you went to, because did you hate them that much?
Afterwards, their motivation deteriorated, and they proceeded on with their lives as they also needed to focus on their careers in respective fields in relation to their degrees.
Seven long months have passed, but their longing for you only intensified in the most excruciating way, and it was killing them more than it should despite their miraculous ability to simulate a coequal facade that displayed their cold detachment in front of the others except towards each other.
There were moments when they wanted to give up and cease mapping possibilities of where you might be, until their hope rekindled.
--------
“Hold the fuck up. You mean to tell us that after seven months, you finally remembered the one crucial detail of her that we could’ve used to our advantage back then?” Jake nearly growled out, his dark eyes glaring into Sunghoon's, whereas the male was completely undeterred by the fact that he could be in the path of his best friend’s wrath.
“Don’t put the blame on me. I had many things going on in my mind back then.” Sunghoon defended himself, shooting him a scowl as he remained leisurely seated on the couch. “Besides, it’s only a maybe. We’re not even sure if she really went to Milan, so we can’t make any rash decisions right now.”
“Sunghoon’s right.” Heeseung concurred, earning him a glare of disbelief from Jake, to which Heeseung reciprocated with a pointed look. “As much as I want her back, we need to think rationally, Jake. We have already established our careers here, and we can’t toss all of our hard work away just like that.”
“We can just utilise our annual leaves or even unpaid leaves, I don’t care. I’d rather take the risk than to wait around here any longer,” Jake retorted vehemently, his resolution blazing in his eyes. “This is our Y/N we’re talking about. She’s the─” He paused, nearly whimpering as he looked away from their eyes. “She’s the love of my life.”
There was a shift in the air, evoking such poignancy from them as they went silent for a brief moment. Jay eyed his best friends, hating how uncharacteristically dejected they looked once again, and so he knew what he must do, thanks to Sunghoon.
“Who are you texting?” Heeseung inquired, watching Jay with calculated eyes as the latter was focused on his phone.
“My cousin. He lives in Milan. Thanks to Sunghoon, we have a lead, and at least it’s better than nothing.” Jay said while his fingers were working their way on the phone screen as he got immersed in texting his cousin from his father’s side. “He’s online, by the way. Since he has resources and connections, he is more than willing to help us out, so all we have to do now is wait.”
“Wait?” Jake scoffed in disbelief, his patience running dangerously thinly, as evident in his countenance. “There is no more waiting! Tell your cousin to speed up, or is he too incompetent─”
“Jake.” Heeseung snapped coldly, his tone reverberating throughout the living room, and they knew that he meant business. “Enough of your shit. You need to blow off some steam.”
“I second that.” Sunghoon feigned coughing, to which Jake cast a withering glare before he finally took off with Heeseung’s advice.
Not even moments later when Jay’s phone rang, garnering their attention to him as he quickly answered an incoming call from a certain cousin. Jay raised his finger at them, pressing his phone against his ear as he moved away from them while they resumed minding their business in the living room, assuming that Jay was on a call with someone else.
It took Jay awhile before he finally returned to Heeseung and Sunghoon with the look on his face earning inquisitive eyebrows raised from both.
“You look a little too happy. Why? Your daddy finally promoted you to take over his business?” Sunghoon’s tone dripping with mockery went under-appreciated by Jay, as the latter was too preoccupied by the hope that bloomed pleasantly in his chest.
“I was on a call with my cousin.” Jay revealed, which piqued their full interest, leaning their bodies slightly forward. A smirk touched Jay’s lips while his eyes darkened with a familiar danger. “Well, it looks like our angel is right where we thought she would be.”
--------
Frankly, Jay assumed that the chances of his cousin tracking your precise location in Milan were low, but much to his delightful surprise, his cousin turned out to be your acquaintance, and yet the thought of another male, even if he was his cousin, displeased him greatly.
Nevertheless, the universe seemed to be working in their favour at the time, so after settling their respective businesses in regards to their careers, to which they found their solution, they finally embarked on a new journey as well, and their only shared goal is to get you back, no matter what it takes.
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Two days granted you less than expected for you to ruminate over the licentious encounter you had with them, the ones you thought you could escape from. The rational part of you has been incessantly rebuking you for betraying your resolution, which you thought was adamantine, but your depravity is satiated with their compulsive intoxication that felt like it breathed you to life.
The erotic recollection precipitously surfaces in your mind, prompting you to drink your smoothie aggressively while warmth weaves across your cheeks. Oh, yeah, you enjoyed it more than you should. You would never admit this to them, but they fucked you better than the last time they did, and you know that it has something to do with one of your twisted fantasies of being fucked by masked men.
Shaking your head at the recollection, you proceed to exit the washroom and head back to your table where your best friends are seated for refreshments in the cafe after an hour or so of you accompanying them to shop.
Although you have regained your full vitality, you occasionally limp whenever you walk—well, more like you feel your knees buckling underneath you before you quickly steady yourself. If your best friends have noticed it, then they are doing a great job at closing both eyes to it.
As you slide over to your seat, you pretend to be engrossed in their conversation while your mind drifts off to them, and questions begin to linger in your head, including their sudden yet mysterious detachment.
Though you are thankful that they weren’t outside and inside of your apartment, you can’t help but be curious, wondering if they finally decided to leave you alone for good after the note you left for them to read or if they are busy with their other pursuits, such as careers. Surely, they should already have landed their respective careers despite wielding immense wealth that could probably last for generations.
You ignore the growing ache in your chest, refusing to acknowledge the familiar longing for them. This is exactly what you wanted — for them to leave you for good, but needles seem to be endlessly piercing through your bleeding heart, and the only way to stop this unabating maelstrom within you is to curb your ego and admit to yourself that you still want them.
You clench your fist that is resting on your thigh, embittered by the fact that you are once again thrown into a dilemma with your emotions tangled in a web. When your eyes shift to your best friends, something pulls at the strings in your heart as you dispiritedly wonder whether or not they will be revolted at you like they once were if you vent out your repressing feelings to them.
“Y/N, a penny for your thoughts?” Jennifer’s voice breaks through the rumination you are in, pulling you back into the bleak reality. Your eyes lock with Jennifer, who is sitting across from you and whose eyes show genuine concern. “You keep spacing out, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so stressed since─” She pauses, grimacing as she doesn’t wish to trigger you. “Well, you know.”
You bite down your lip, your eyes shifting elsewhere other than their curious yet concerned eyes, contemplating whether to let them know, but you trust them and no doubt that they will support you.
A sigh leaves your lips. “Something happened two nights ago.” And so you begin to unravel every piece, not missing out any details while they surprisingly listen without interrupting you, and just as you expect, genuine shock that laces the anger is written across their features, whereas Jennifes doesn’t look as shocked, almost as if she knows something, but you brush it off.
Of course, you also include the fact that you slept with them, but not into depth, and by that, you mean the part where you actually have a twisted fantasy about getting fucked by masked men. You don’t want to potentially aggravate the situation, especially when they look a little less appalled.
As soon as you finish, you clasp your hands together on the table as you look down, unable to muster the courage to look at the possible revulsion on their countenance, just as you feel towards yourself. So much for betraying your own resolve.
“You girls probably hate me for going against my word.” You mutter, your eyes hardening as your mind is once again your enemy, rebuking you incessantly. “I know I can’t blame the alcohol entirely.”
“We don’t hate you, Y/N.” Wonyoung, who has been sitting next to you, reaches out to grab your slightly trembling cold hand in her grasp, prompting you to lift your head up slowly to meet her kind eyes. “If you think that we’re going to condemn and shame you, then you’re wrong. I mean, yes, we’re shocked and in disbelief that they somehow managed to find you here, but honestly, our feelings don’t matter. I think I can say for Karina and Jen that we no longer give a damn about the ex-leaders.”
“Plus, we’ve already known that they were not entirely responsible for what happened a year ago.” Karina seems to be treading with her words carefully as she examines your face. “Wony’s right. Our feelings don’t matter when it comes to this, but what matters most is your feelings. You told us the details, but you never really told us about how you’re feeling.”
You can feel every bit of your once steely resolve crumbling as you so desperately cling onto those bits. “I don’t know what to feel. All my emotions are going haywire.” You tell them sincerely, your eyes turning crestfallen. “I know I said that I wanted to wipe the slate clean and never looked back to my past, but now that they’re here, I don’t know what to do.” You continue to pour out bits of your pent-up emotions, your face appearing in such distress as you run your fingers through your hair. “What if they come back again? Should I pretend to ignore their existence? Should I hurt them with words?”
The three ladies exchange meaningful glances before Jennifer takes initiative as she leans her body forward with heedful attention, her stern yet kind eyes ensnaring you. “We’re in no position to tell you what to do, but we can only advise you to follow your heart’s desires.”
“But I can’t. I don’t want to.” You say, frustration bubbling within you while devastation storms in your gaze. “If I follow what my heart desires, then I’ll be betraying my own promises, and I don’t want any toxicity in my new life here. I’ve had enough of that. I deserve better.”
“Yes, you deserve so much better, but Y/N,” Karina pauses, her hesitation is obvious in the way she looks at you. “Do you still love them?”
The one mistake you make is the fact that you hesitate as soon as the question leaves her lips. After a couple beats of silence, you decide to respond, but the tremor in your voice is palpable. “No, I don’t. I stopped loving them after what happened.”
“A year later, and you still suck at lying.” Jennifer points out rather amusingly. “I love you, but you gotta stop being in denial.”
“I’m not in denial.” You retort vehemently, shooting her a scowl. “I meant what I said. I don’t love them.”
“And I’m getting married, so we’re both liars, then.” Wonyoung remarks, raising an eyebrow at you. “We’re not buying any of your words, Y/N.”
“Come on. Just admit it.” Karina presses, and you can feel the last of your patience stretching so thinly. “Why are you so afraid of admitting it?”
Alas, something inside of you finally snaps, your eyes going ablaze with unrestrained vehemence of ire that blends with the sheer vulnerability, taking them by surprise. “Fine, you want to know why I’m so afraid? It’s because if I admit it, then it’ll be the end of me, and I can’t allow that to happen.” Your voice shakes palpably with a torrent of emotions. “I lost myself once, all because I was so desperate and foolishly hoping for them to reciprocate what I felt for them. I refuse to lose myself for another time.”
Jennifer’s eyes soften. “Y/N─”
You shake your head at her, looking away from them as you quickly blink the accumulating tears that glisten in your eyes. “I don’t want to love again, which is why I’ve told you girls that I had no interest in dating. I’ll only hurt myself by my own expectations.”
“We’re sorry, Y/N.” Karina tells you sincerely, her tone sounding apologetic. “We knew how much they meant to you.”
Wonyoung reaches out to squeeze your shoulder in a comforting support. “We respect your decision in whatever you choose to do. Just do what you think is right and best for you.”
Jennifer offers you a small smile that seems to temporarily ease your nerves. “We’re here to support you, Y/N, even if you choose to return to them.”
“Thank you, girls, really.” You cast them a faint smile, feeling a tad overwhelmed by their reaffirmation support. A sigh leaves your lips before the familiar steel of resolve returns to your demeanour as you finally align with your rationality. “Now I know what to do next.”
Even if it means breaking your own heart that remains beating in a familiar longing cadence for them.
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After sending Karina and Wonyoung back to their hotel apartment, Jennifer, who thankfully is the only one in your circle to pass her driver’s license, drives you back to yours, as she has already told you beforehand that she intended to have a sleepover at your crib after so long.
Plus, it is a great opportunity for you to desist from ruminating in your dilemma since Jennifer has generously bought two finest bottles of wine, which you were shocked to learn about the prices, but nevertheless, Jennifer wasn’t deterred in the slightest. Perks of being a nepo baby, you think.
“So, I was thinking that maybe we could watch gossip girls, and yes, I know I’ve watched it before, but you haven’t,” Jennifer continues to blabber, even as you two board the elevator to head to your floor, for which you are grateful as you feel the last of your fraying nerves ebbing away.
It isn’t long when the two of you finally reach the floor of your apartment, but as you are nearing your unit, your steps feel heavier in a trice and dreadful turmoil within you, to which you have no idea why. With your slightly trembling hand, you search for the key card in your purse while Jennifer is in the middle of texting on her phone, completely oblivious to the mounting tension in the air.
You nearly fumble with tapping the key card on the smart lock, earning you an inquisitive eyebrow raised from Jennifer as her attention shifts from her phone, to which you simply ignore as you slowly push down the handle, allowing Jennifer to enter first.
“First things first, I’m feeling hungry, so I’m ordering food.” Jennifer says as she busily removes her heels to place them in the shoe compartment before grabbing for the house shoes, which you bought a few extra in case there are visitors. She casts a questioning look over her shoulder as you switch the buttons on, prompting illumination to cast a glow in your apartment before the two of you advance further. “Do you want any?”
Just as you intend to give her your answer, Jennifer stops dead in her tracks, looking genuinely staggered while her eyes are staring straight ahead, compelling you to shift your attention to the same axis as hers, and just like that, you completely understand why there is a persistent turmoil within you.
Although you feel a tad staggered, annoyance and anger seize over you, as evident in the way your icy eyes are glaring, because in your line of sight are the very individuals whom you thought had departed from your life after not seeing them for two days.
“Oh, um, I’m just gonna─” It painfully astounds you to see Jennifer being out of her assertive element as you hear a distinct crack in her voice and the way she casts you a look with a small smile that looks awful-like a grimace. “I’ll see myself in the guest room while you─er─” She gestures her hand in a moving motion between you and them.
Upon receiving a deadly silence emanating from your brooding figure, Jennifer barrels in the direction of the guest room, her legs a guiding memory, now leaving you alone with them.
As the frigid silence persists that weighs heavily in the air, you take this moment to study their stark appearance under these illuminations, which you didn’t have the chance to two nights ago with the exception of two of them whom you had seen at the Milan fashion week, and as you do, you can feel your heart breaking bit by bit that is taking its splintering effect on your steely resolve. 
Jake, who is nearest to you, captures your initial attention, and in the way his body language seems to insinuate his self-restraint in laying a hold of you since he is just within an arm's reach if he takes another step. His raven locks look trimmed but are still familiarly irresistible, to which your fingers are itching to run through them. You can feel the strings in your heart pulling painfully as you notice how he seems to have lost weight on his face as well as his eyes that were once gleaming with wonted mirth and mischief have lost their sparks.
Sunghoon is standing by the balcony with his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans, his posture displaying such nonchalance that parallels his dour countenance, but even you can discern the familiar longing in his eyes amplified at the moment your eyes lock with his, betraying his impassiveness. His raven strands fall over his thick brows, tempting you to brush them away like you once did. As your eyes roam around his features to scrutinise, you wonder when was the last time he ever smiled genuinely.
A few distance away, Jay’s figure seems imposing as he stands directly across from you with his lower back leaning against the couch’s armrest and one hand tucked inside the pocket of his jacket. His sharp flinty eyes compel you, locking you in place with his sharp flinty eyes, but you can see that his wintry facade melts, causing his features to soften with a familiar tenderness reserved only for you. 
When your eyes flicker over to Heeseung, who is leaning behind against the wall next to the balcony with his arms folded across his chest, your heart that has been beating in a familiar cadence seems to amplify. His mere presence is enough to dominate the entire room while his silence is resounding. His hair is in the gorgeous shade of pink, and he looks amazing, tempting you to run your fingers through his locks. Like a siren’s serenade, he easily ensnares you with his eyes that hold unfathomable emotions.
They look devastatingly as handsome as they were, maybe even more, but there is a certain ambience they exude that corresponds to one another.
Sensing a gradual shift in your demeanour, you strengthen the walls you built to protect your mended heart that coarsen a callousness in your facade, refusing for them to allow just the slightest glimpse of your vulnerability that derives from the feelings your weeping heart still harbours.
You adopt an intimidating stance, your arms folded below your chest while your eyes hold a glaring detachment, displaying your unbending resolution, which is to drive them away from your life for good.
“I thought I made it clear in that note when I told you to stay away from me.” You start off, your flinty tone sounds awfully foreign to them, just as you look at them now, and they hate it. “You already got what you wanted two nights ago, so what do you want from me?”
“Don’t you still get it? We want you.” Jay speaks for his best friends, but even the determination coming out strong in the way he enunciates their correlative intention is not resonating enough to coax your tenacity.
You click your tongue in annoyance, your icily glaring eyes are in sheer disbelief. “If that’s what you came here for, then you’ve just wasted your time.”
“Why are you being like this?” Jake voices out, drawing your attention to his eyes that glisten with emotions despite his composure while your heart clenches in return. “Please, sweetheart, we want you to return to us. That’s all we want.”
“Bolt of you to assume that I would return to you.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as you maintain your established resolve that is teetering dangerously. “You can’t just waltz back into my life after what happened.”
“We didn’t stop searching for you after you left, even when we thought there would be no hope.” Heeseung says quietly, but the gravity in his tone resonates with you, prompting you to meet his dark intent eyes. “We went through lengths just to get to where you were. We came to Milan solely for you.”
“Well, that’s on you, then. I didn’t ask for you to do all of that.” There is a certain edge in your tone, adding to the rising tension that is nearly palpable between you and them. “I didn’t even ask for you to search for me when the whole purpose was to get away from the very place that brought me misery.”
“You’re right, but for you, we would do anything. You should’ve known this, princess.” Sunghoon leans away from the balcony to saunter forward as he looks at you sternly. “We would do anything to get you back.”
This time, you fail to restrain your brewing ire, your arms falling to your sides as you clench a fist. “Do I look like I want to return to any of you?” You ask rhetorically with a derisive chuckle leaving your lips. “If you’re here to force me to accept you back, then I suggest you leave now. Don’t─” You pause, swallowing a painful lump in your throat as you muster the courage before forcing your voice with conviction. “Don’t make me hate you more than I already do. So please, leave.”
“I don’t understand you, Y/N.” Sunghoon displays his frustration towards you, his eyes hardening. “A year ago, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki already explained to you the truth, so what more do you want in order for you to return─”
Something inside of you finally snaps. “What I want is for you to fucking leave!” You raise your voice, your ire mingling with exasperation releases in a torrent of outburst as you continue. “I want you to leave me alone for good! I’m already happy with my life, and for once, everything that has happened in my life ever since I left Seoul is working out for me!” You refrain the tears that burn the back of your eyes from revealing your vulnerability. “I won’t allow any of you to destroy that─ to destroy me again.”
“Destroy you again?” Jay scoffs in disbelief, leaning away from the sofa. “I don’t understand why you even thought that we destroyed you when all we’ve done was show you that there was more to life than holding yourself back from unleashing what your heart truly desired.”
“Wasn’t that your goal when you decided to prey on me in the first place?” You bite back, your jaw locking while your chin wobbles with anger that overweighs the hurt as you recall. “You weren’t sincere with me and did it for the sake of your twisted tradition. You influenced me to become the worst version of myself when I should’ve been good─”
“But you were. You were always good, even to us, beloved.” Heeseung cuts you off, his mellow tone is so oddly overpowering that even you feel weakened, especially in the way his softened eyes are looking at you. “Forget about the preying. If we weren’t sincere with you, then we wouldn’t fly across the globe to find you.”
“Please, sweetheart.” Jake takes a daring step forward, causing you to back away while you ignore the disappointment flicker in his gaze. “We also came here to ask for your forgiveness, so please give us another chance.”
A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I forgive you.” You declare with the utmost sincerity, sparking hopes in their chest, but your face shows no traces of reconciliation. “Now you got what you came for, so leave me alone.”
“We thought you’d accept us back, and we thought you’d be fine with us now.” Sunghoon’s frustration is more than apparent in the way he speaks to you, reminding you the times when he was insufferable. “Two nights ago, you wanted us, and you let us fuck you. Is this your way to play mind games with us?”
“It’s true I wanted you to fuck me that night, but it was nothing too personal. Can you blame me for not getting someone to fuck me as good as you did?” Piercing mockery laces your tone, aligning with the cruelty that forms a smirk on your tinted lips as you revel in the way they look evidently hurt and angry at the thought of you sleeping with someone else. ”Don’t be mad, now. It was only fair that I do the same thing like you did to me in the past. I mean, you did prey on me to use me and get me to be your personal slut.”
“You’re so cruel, baby.” Jay mutters, his steely demeanour melting into something that displays a rare vulnerability. “You have no idea how miserable we felt after you left. You didn’t even give us some heads up, unlike you did with Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.”
“You have no right to feel miserable, especially when you weren’t the ones who received such dehumanising words thrown at you every single day!” You retort vehemently, and this time, tears prickle in your eyes at the recollection. “So now you’re blaming me when you could’ve come and told me the truth yourself about the entire thing instead of them!”
Sunghoon scoffs in disbelief, his chiselled jaw tightening afterwards while his eyes level with your glaring ones. “But would you even have listened to us, let alone seen us?”
“But you could’ve tried! If you wanted me that bad, then you should’ve tried harder!” You hold back a sob, your voice trembling as you pour out the things you held back for a long time. “But no, you didn’t even bother to reach out to me for days when I thought that you were the ones entirely responsible for what happened!”
“We were busy searching for Taehyun when we thought he was the mastermind before we finally found out about Beomgyu.” Heeseung saunters forward in your direction, intending to comfort you as the hurt written all over your face hits him in the gut. Heeseung exchanges glances with his best friends, who give him collective nods. “It’s not only that, but we felt guilty because we didn’t listen to you in the first place to delete them, so we couldn’t face you, and we doubted that you wanted to see our faces.”
You hear him, you hear his reasoning, and a part of you knows that you can’t blame him for their doubts in the first place, as things back then were taut with agonising tension. Your sensibility is convincing you that they were being considerate and didn’t want to aggravate the situation back then. Maybe if communication was anchored between you and them, then you would not have felt as deeply wounded as you were.
The four of them observe you, noticing that you seem to grapple with your emotions and how things got escalated. They wish to comfort you and embrace you like they used to, but they heard you. They heard the clarity in your hatred for them.
You blink your tears away, trying your utmost not to crumble in front of them after all the efforts you built yourself into becoming the better and stronger version of yourself, unlike the old Y/N Kang.
Rallying your frayed nerves, you muster the courage to look at them dead in the eyes, and yet, your eyes are conveying such a plea that renders them devastated once more. “I’m tired, and it’s been a long day. I don’t want to keep arguing with you like this, so please.” Your shaky voice betrays your tenacity. “Please leave.”
Reluctancy holds them back, and they so desperately want to fix everything they have broken, but they know that they can’t do it just overnight. Jake dares himself to try to reach out to you, but the sound of footsteps garners their attention to Jennifer, who, unbeknownst to you, has heard everything, ambling into the living room.
Jennifer’s presence provides you little comfort, but it is enough for you to lean slightly towards her moral support. Her icily glaring eyes as she stares at them convey a silent message to the four to leave, and it is final.
Eventually, they have no choice but to concede, seeing their way out, but as they brush past you, they struggle to fight against their instinctive urges to hold you close. You look away from them while their distinctive cologne infiltrating your senses seems to bring more memories that taunt you in your head.
As soon as the door closes, Jennifer’s austere demeanour melts, replaced by the usual protectiveness and concern for you as she advances towards you. “Y/N─”
“I’m fine, Jen.” You insist strongly, giving her a tight smile before you make your way to the kitchen island. “What I need is that wine you bought.”
It isn’t long until you and Jennifer settle by the kitchen island, silence engulfing both of you that feels painfully foreign, but after what happened just before this, it just doesn’t feel right to resort to normalcy.
As Jennifer places down her empty glass, she bites down her lips, contemplating whether or not to let you know. A sigh leaves her lips as she has decided. “I eavesdropped on you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter either.” You state bluntly, while your nonchalance only makes Jennifer feel sceptical. Your hollow eyes are staring into oblivion. “We’re done for good, anyway.”
“I doubt that. As much as I don’t like them, I know that they’ll come back to you again soon.” Jennifer says, treading with her words carefully.
“Please, Jen, let’s not have a conversation about them. We’re here to have fun and drink away our sorrows.” You chuckle dryly before meeting her concerned eyes. You shoot her a lopsided smile, raising the glass of wine leisurely in the air. “Here’s a toast to my past trying to fuck me up again. Besides, there is nothing better than to drown your heartbreak with wine."
But it doesn’t get better, as their stark absence from your apartment only seems to hurt you instead of relieving you.
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